OHIO ROCKS.....and then you fall face first into a wall drunk and break a mirror

This past weekend, the millionaire writers of your beloved D&D gathered together in the great city of Columbus, Ohio to give praise to the holier than holy tOSU. I'm done. I've completely sold out. I AM A BUCKEYE! To hell with the Aggies of which I have devoted my life to this point...I am fucking sold! A huge thank you goes out to my brothers up there for one of the best weekends of my life. I didn't want it to come to an end. What did we do you ask? Other than milking each other dry, we drank.....and drank......and for the love of God we drank.
Enough of the pole smoking, we are a sports blog dammit and we should write about sports. That is why I took it upon myself to decide once and for all which is more annoying.....1980's black man or 2007 black man.
Yeah, I'm going there. Don't get me wrong I have nothing against black people....I own a color TV. Hell, I own 2 so get off of my big black ass. Let's start.....

1980's black man would often become lazy and quit his job. This soon led to losing his car, home and ruining his credit.
2007 black man now works and complains that he does not get paid as much as the white man.
ADVANTAGE: PUSH

1980's black man makes rap music with his "posse" and smokes weed. That eventually led to cocaine and then usually hookers. The most famous to my knowledge was Eazy-E which not only led the rock star life, but then died from the AID that he got from some stupid bitch with a nappy ass weave. (listen to Boyz in the Hood and you will understand)
2007 black man makes rap music with his "homies" and smokes weed. This eventually leads to cocaine and then usually hookers. The software upgraded 2007 version now takes this to another level. There is more shooting of his fellow brothers now more than ever just because someone scuffed up his Pumas and called his mother a bizzle fo rizzle.
ADVANTAGE: PUSH

Now there are quite a few things that black people have over us. For example:
1. They have the biggest dicks I have ever had my hands around.....oh wait...I mean........no, that's actually what I meant.
2. They can weigh 350 and still get ass. Shit. I don't weigh that much and I go through a jar of peanut butter a week.
3. Sports.....enough said.

Final verdict.......PUSH





Stay black

Poon-rizzle

"It's tricky to rock a rhyme, to rock a rhyme on time that's right it's TRICKY…"

Take Savant's lead and help out the authorities

by creating your own police sketch

OK - so most of you already have your costume ideas for Halloween 2007 (Spiderman, Dirty Sanchez, Charles Nelson Riley etc.), but how many of you are prepared to play - not turn - tricks this year? We, here at d&d, are feeling a little rambunctious and, as such, would like to offer-up for your reading pleasure our Guide to Halloween Trickery.

In our estimation, all good tricks should involve one or more (more's better) of the following: public humiliation, fecal matter, special undergarments, transmission of a sexually transmitted disease (always a crowd pleaser), doughnuts, semen, a furry mammal (bonus points for using marsupials), and ethnic slurs.

If it's your first Halloween trick, try something basic. After all, you don't want to set-up yourself for failure. You might, for example, simply poop on your neighbors front porch. For added mystery, do it in a paper bag and place on the welcome mat before ringing the doorbell and running away. If you're feeling supremely confident, light the bag on fire.

Intermediate Halloween buffoonery might incorporate just a couple of these tried-and-true themes - like tossing off and unloading in the pouch of a kangaroo and then telling your neighbors there is candy in the pouch. When they reach in, they will get a fist full of goo.

Gotcha!For the advanced trickster, pull-out all the stops...

Ruffies Man. Ruffies! Hand ‘em out to the kiddos and by 7:30 it’ll look like a bomb went off in the neighborhood. Kids strewn about everywhere.

Try this if you have a storm door on your front door. Open the front door, turn your porch light on like you are giving away candy. Then turn your TV toward the door and put on the foulest raunchiest porn (Sure, HC you can use gay porn if you want) you can find, turn up the volume and leave the house. Awesome!

Go back to May and plant sweet corn in your neighbor’s lawn. By now you’ll have a bounty of delicious corn ready for harvest. MMMMM, corn.

Pesky neighborhood children? Have we got a game for you. Take the little darlings for a long walk into the dark woods. Wait patiently for the first kiddo to mutter, "Mister, I'm getting scared." That's when the fun begins. You reply, "You think your scared? I have to walk out of here alone." Then sit back and chortle as the little bastards make tracks thiugh the thicket, running into trees and shredding their tender shins on brambles. Shit, that one slays us every time.

Now comes the audience participation portion of the evening. Please add your tricks in the comment section. If you know what’s good for you, Ghoul!

Savant and crue out.

How to build a drink with ice without your wife noticing

I want to tell you about something that happened to this dude named Porkchop and how he’s trying to come to terms with it.

When Porkchop came back from a vacation this summer, Porkchop’s wife was not very happy with him. It seems he acted ugly in many ways and drank enough booze in 10 days for Porkchop’s brother and brother’s wife to call mom and tattle. Then Porkchop’s wife, “We need to talk about our future together.” Anyone who is married knows what this veiled threat is all about.

So it’s cutback time for Porkchop, who knows how good a gig he has, working from home and slapping his yambag all the time. So now he can’t drink on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, which represents a turmoil that’s significantly less than sporadically amusing. And when he does get to drink, he has to be responsible and quit before Porkchop morphs from Professor Porkchop into Fuckface Porkchop. The probability of this happening, he explained to me, indicated a potential statistical anomaly based on past performances. So that means when Porkchop’s lovely wife and family are in bed and he’s supposed to have stopped slugging back his cups, he has to sneak, which seems like a perfectly cromulent thing to do at the time. And yes, he says, before you raise your goddamned accusatory eyebrow, he knows is one of the classic indicators of alcoholism. But nevertheless, he is not going to AA because Porkchop will not submit to religion because he believes, as Einstein taught, religion is a bunch mumbo-jumbo and there probably is a god somewhere but he really isn’t interested in whether Porkchop can have another drink or two before he goes to fucking bed.

The rest of this essay is based on the assumption that a good liquor drink must be served in a glass rocks glass with plenty of ice. Otherwise, just guzzle it out of a bag, wino.

So he says the first thing to be careful of is slamming the cabinet door. Porkchop has those kinds of hinges where the door pops up about ¼ inch before it closes, and it makes a loud bang even if he keeps his hand on it. Then, the careful opening of refrigerator, which, depending on his paranoia, may include slipping his fingers beneath the rubber gasket that seals the door to break the airlock quietly. Now, one must remove the ice bucket from the freezer (not sliding but lifting and pulling) and carefully retrieving one ice cube at a time without disturbing those ice cubes contiguous to the original. With a dish towel wrapped around the glass to muzzle the clinking noises of ice falling into a rocks glass, carefully place one cube at a time inside, making sure not to upset the tedious balance of cubes already at rest. Of course, you don’t close the refrigerator while doing this so you don’t have to open it again. Quietly replace the ice bucket, then tip the glass to the side while the warm sweetness pours into thirsty vessel. Some nights, Porkchop must open another can of Sprite Zero (three to four drinks can be created per can) and this is quite difficult, because when the tab pulls and the interior gasses escape according to the laws of osmosis, it makes a loud cracking sound easily detected by the motherhearing of a wife even when she is sleeping. So place the unopened can under the shirt and wrap the non-opening hand around the outside. Slowly pull the tab while hiding in the downstairs bathroom with the poop fan on, then skulk back to the kitchen carefully avoiding the floorboards that squeak in the middle of the floor where people have been walking for 60 years.

Mix the bubbly with the marinated ice and happy juice. Almost anyone can handle the rest, including quietly installing the rocks glass in the back of the dishwasher’s top rack after you move the glass that was back there to the front so it will throw the dogs off your scent trail.

If you see Porkchop on that terrible TV show Intervention, he’ll be the one swinging punches at those in his family and friends who try to keep him from leaving.

"Isn't That Special" - Church Lady 1987

On nearly a daily basis I stop by several blogs to get my updates on the Sport, the Entertainment, the Porn News of the day and the Whining and crying at one of the Meatchicken blogs. In all fairness they do a good job of detailing the happening of their team and its opponents. They also have, on a several times a week rate, slams on tOSU and our fans. Lots of times it’s really funny and pretty accurate given large amount of mustachioed mullet wearing townies (and Delany) that invade the area around the ‘shoe in the fall. Having said all that, their ‘You work for us’ attitude still makes me want to take a giant crap on the 50 at the Big Shit House.

This however was actually a little creepy. I thought I remembered exactly what Ohio State and its women looked like circa 1986. Wrong. Just take a look. If you aren’t from that era, withhold your judgment and go listen to Creed on your iPod.



I’m pretty sure I saw glimpses of Papa Joe’s, Mustards and maybe Travel Agency in there. See if you agree.

If you'll excuse me now, I’m going to peg the legs of my jeans and dig out my Sperry top-siders. Totally!

Hasta la vista, Baby.

PK out

You really need to stop masturbating.

We've been great stewards of the company time lately. Really keeping the nose to the grindstone. Not buying it? Don't blame you. What we've actually be doing is adding alternate punchlines to the old joke. A guy goes to the doctor, and the doctor says "You really need to stop masturbating" the guys says "Why?" And the doctor says because you are freaking out the other people in the waiting room." Here are some of the ones we've come up. Please stop masturbating and add your own in the comment section, Jag Off!

You really need to stop masturbating.

Why?

Because you are distracting JonBenet from her dance practice.
Because you chipped one of my teeth with your class ring.
Because Grandpa needs his colostomy bag back.
Because the microwave timer went off - your baby is done.
Because the cripple needs to shut her mouth to chew.
Because there are kids waiting to sit on Santa's lap, too!!

Listn, yu hve gt stop mstrbatng!......

Why?

bcuz i cnt type wit both thums up yur ass


Because Professor Hawking’s hair is getting matted.
Because you have to lock up the Gimp before Zed gets back.
Because, Coach Kryziewski, the TV time-out is just about over.
Because, the clown suit is a rental.
Because you’ve filled all the doughnuts.

You really need to stop masturbating.

Why?

Because the coroner is due back from lunch soon.
That’s NOT your penis!
Because I’m trying to fasten your seat belt, Captain Lerdon.
Because I’ll never be able to trust the cottage cheese again.
Because your cigarette is about to light your SpongeBob pillowcase on fire.
Because this is not considered an appropriate best-man speech.

You really need to stop masturbating.

Why?

Because Kaptain Kangaroo says you are creeping out the Dancing Bear.
Because, Holy Father, the Pope-mobile is see-through.
MOM!
Because we're going to have to squeegee-off the boy's bubble again.

Because my grandmother hasn't worn those panties in 6 years.

Now your turn, McFisty

Three Seconds Left....He Shoots.......He Ruins Another T-Shirt

Ok, s0 I talk a big game and don't back it up. Remember when I said a few months ago that the summer was slow and when football season came around we would be writing more than an oriental in advanced calculus? I remember that too. What happened you ask? Well listen up you ass hat, it is hard running a multi-million dollar sports media empire. Do you think that we get nominated for awards left and right just because we listen to the voices of the poor bastards that have nothing better to do than read this thing? NO! We get nominated because we kick ass......and we know people that know people and blah blah blah.
Fear not. We are back. Unfortunately the creative juices that started flowing during the first week of football ended up just being juices leaking out of our newly bleached holes because of the olestra filled WOW chips that PK and I found on sale at the 99 cent store because they expired 10/2004. Seriously, who can pass up a bargain? I mean 99 cents with a 20% off........yeah that's what I thought.
As we digest the first 7 weeks of football, what did we learn?

Randy Moss is a fucking freak.
Tom Brady has a 15" cock with balls the size of boxcars.
The Bengals might have more arrests than wins this year.
I still want to piss on Texas Stadium and the dick it rode in on.
The Redskins are the best team in the NFL.....deal with it.
Vinny Testeverde can raise the average age of a team by almost a decade.
Minnesota loves AP.......and number 28 is pretty good too.

While spending this week on vacation, I have a pretty packed schedule. I won't go into details, but it includes diapers, oriental men, a box of zip ties, both a phillips and flathead screwdriver, a hairless panda and a change of underwear and socks. Fortunately, this can all be checked in so that I don't have to carry any of it on the airplane. I also have on my schedule to get busy writing. This will be my first flight with our new pilot for our company jet. Seems like a good guy, Marshall grad.

Poon

Ring Ring Ring....

Hey baby, drove by your apartment last night didn’t see any lights on.

It was kinda late, actually had car trouble. What a coincidence that it was right in front of your place.

Seriously, I think it’s my alternator.

It has to do with the battery and shit.

No really, I just happened to be in the neighborhood. So anyway, did you go out or something? Studying?

PISCATAWAY?! What the hell is that?

Oh New Jersey. Didn’t know you were planning on going out of town. I was watching for you from my dorm room window and didn’t see you at the Starbucks across the street. That explains it. What’s the occasion?

Oh, yeah. USF Football. Right. Whoppiedeedoo. Still chasing the dream, huh? Are you there alone?

Of course. What a douche bag. Aside from being starting QB what he got?

OH YEAH, WHORE? Well they lost. You like that Bitch? LOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSERS! Hope you had fun while it lasted with your over-rated homos.

Baby I’m sorry. Can I call you when you get back…..Hello? Hellooooooo? Damn it.