This afternoon, in the span of the last hour, while I was doing more constructive things like watching my cat check out birds outside, reading the threads in here, drinking and checking the oil in my Bronco, the local sports guys were all over the following:
1. Who's going to be good next year in college football. Some keen insight, in case ya'll didn't know: LSU is going to be really good if Russell comes back. Also, USC should be really good.
2. Who do you like in the New Orleans Bowl? I like Rice.
I like Troy. Amazingly insightful stuff.
3. Jacksonville could win at home this week, since they play really, really good at home. But then again, New England is a really good team, and they've won three Super Bowls. They have a good chance of winning on the road.
I could go on, but I need to go rearrange my sock drawer and change my sthaython.
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Btw, these motherfucking asshats haven't taken one call since I turned this shit on more than an hour ago. You know it's bad when the hosts are worse than the fucking callers.
Holy Fuck.
This just not in. Those of you fighting the rest of the lazy-ass obese Dorito-eaters at Wal-Mart aren't missing much.
How in the hell do these local shows survive?
Advertising seems like the answer, but some dude's lasik practice and Ford's Holiday Sales Event wouldn't seem to add up in paying for this abortion.
It's got to be a media conspiracy.
Merry Christmas, all.
I hope the local sports radio hosts die in a car wreck tonight.
~ click ~