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Texas Football Fan's Diary A chronology of events for Saturday, December 4, 1999, and the early morning hours of Sunday, December 5, 1999: 6:00 AM - Arise, play the Eyes of Texas and Texas Fight at full-freaking blast 6:20 AM - Get in car, drive to New Braunfels 7:30 AM - Tee off (me and a buddy were the FIRST tee-time of the morning) 8:50 AM - Turn 9 (crack open first beer) 8:53 AM - Crack open second beer 8:58 AM - Crack open...(you get the idea) 10:30 AM - Finish 18 (holes, as well as beers), sign scorecard for smoooooth 95 10:35 AM - Headed for San Antonio 10:50 AM - Buy three 18-packs for pre- and post-game festivities 11:10 AM - We decide we don't have enough booze, so we double-back to a liquor store and buy the good ol' 750 ml plastic bottle "Traveler" Jim Beam 11:50 AM - Arrive at the tailgate spot. Awesome day. Not a single cloud in the sky. About 70 degrees. 11:55 AM - I decide that we're going to kick the shit out of Nebraska. 11:56 AM - I tell my first Nebraska fan to go fuck himself. 12:15 PM - The UT band walks by on the way to the Alamodome. We’re on the second floor of a two-story parking garage on the corner (a couple hundred of us). We're hooting and hollering like wild men. The band doubles back to the street right below us and serenades us with Texas Fight and The Eyes of Texas. AWESOME MOMENT. 12:25 PM - In the post-serenade serendipity, 50-100 grown men are bumping chests with one another, each and every one of them now secure and certain of the fact that we are going to kick the shit out of Nebraska. 1:00 PM - The Nebraska band walks by on the way to the Alamodome. Again, we hoot and holler like wild men. Again, the band doubles back and stops right below us to serenade us, this time, however, with the Nebraska fight songs. *Although somewhat impressed by their spirit and verve, we remain convinced that we are going to kick the shit out of Nebraska. 1:30 PM - I begin the walk to the Alamodome, somehow managing to stuff the "Traveler" and 11 cans of beer into my pants. 1:47 PM - I am in line surrounded by Nebraska fans. They are taunting me. I am taunting back, still certain that we are going to kick the shit out of Nebraska. I decide to challenge a particularly vocal Nebraska fan to play what I now call and will forever be remembered as "Cell-Phone Flop Out." Remember flop out for a dollar? The rules are similar. I tell this Nebraska jackass that if he’s so confident in his team, he should "flop out" his cell phone RIGHT NOW and make plane reservations to Phoenix for the Fiesta Bowl. And then I spoke these memorable words: "And not those damn refundable tickets, either! You request those non-refundable, non-transferable sons-of-bitches!" He backs down. He is unworthy. I call Southwest Airlines and buy two tickets to Phoenix, non-refundable and non-transferable. Price: $712. He is humbled. He lowers his head in shame. I raise my cell phone in triumph to the cheers of hundreds of Texas fans. I am KING and these are my subjects. I distribute the 11 beers in my pants to the cheering masses. I RULE the pre-game kingdom. 2:34 PM - Kickoff. Brimming with confidence, I open the Traveler and pour my first stiffy. 2:45 PM - I notice something troubling: Nebraska is big. Nebraska is fast. Nebraska is very pissed off at Texas. 3:01 PM - The first quarter mercifully ends. 9 yards total offense for Texas. Zero first downs for Texas. I'm still talking shit. I pour another stiffy from the Traveler. 3:36 PM - Four minutes to go in the first half: the Traveler is a dead soldier. I buy my first $5 beer from the Alamodome merchants. While I am standing in line, a center snap nearly decapitates Major Applewhite and rolls out of the end zone. Safety. 3:56 PM - Halftime score: Nebraska 15, Texas 0. I wish I had another Traveler. 4:11 PM - While urinating next to a Nebraska fan in the bathroom at halftime, I attempt to revive the classic Brice-ism from the South Bend bathroom: "Hey, buddy, niiiiiiiiice cock." He is not amused. 4:21 PM - I buy my 2nd and 3rd $5 beer from the Alamodome merchants.. I share my beer with two high school girls sitting behind me. Surprisingly, they are equipped with a flask full of vodka. I send them off to purchase Sprites, so that we may consume their vodka. I have not lost faith. Nebraska is a bunch of pussies. 4:51 PM - No more vodka. The girls sitting behind me have fled for their lives. I purchase two more $5 beers from the Alamodome merchants. 5:18 PM - Score is Nebraska 22, Texas 0. I am beginning to lose faith. This normally would trouble me, but I am too drunk to see the football field. 5:27 PM - I call Southwest Airlines: "I'm sorry, sir. Those tickets have been confirmed and are non-refundable and non-transferable." 5:37 PM - I try to start a fight with every person behind the concession counter. As it turns out, the Alamodome has a policy that no beer can be sold when there is less than 10 minutes on the game clock. I am enraged by this policy. I ask loudly: "Why the fuck didn't you announce last call over the fucking PA system??!!" 5:49 PM - Back in my seats, I am slumped in my chair in defeat. All of a sudden, the Texas crowd goes absolutely nuts. "Whazzis?," I mutter, awaking from my coma, "Iz we winnig? Did wez scort?" Alas, the answer is no, we were not winning and we did not score. The largest (by far) cheer of the day from the Texas faithful occurred when the handlers were walking back to the tunnel and Bevo stopped to take a gargantuan shit all over the letters "S", "K", and "A" in the "Nebraska" spelled out in their end zone. I cheer wildly. I pick up the empty Traveler bottle and stick my tongue in it. I am thirsty. 6:16 PM - Nebraska fans are going berserk as I walk back to the truck. I would taunt them with some off-color remarks about their parentage, but I am too drunk to form complete sentences. With my last cognitive thought of the evening, I take solace in the fact that if we had not beaten them in October, they would be playing Florida State for the national championship. 6:30 PM - Back in the car. On the way back to Austin for the 8:00 Texas-Arizona tip off. We can still salvage the day! I crack open a beer. It is warm. I don't care. 7:12 PM - We have stopped for gas. I am hungry. I go inside the store. I walk past the beer fridge. I notice a Zima. I've never had a Zima. I wonder if it's any good. I pull a Zima from the fridge. I twist the top off and drink the Zima in three swallows. Zima sucks. I replace the empty bottle in the fridge. 7:17 PM - There is a Blimpie Subs in the store. I walk to where the ingredients are, where the person usually makes the sub. There is no one there. I lean over the counter and scoop out half a bucket of black olives. I eat them. I am still hungry. I lean further over the counter and grab approximately two pounds of Pastrami. I walk out of the store grunting and eating Pastrami. The patrons in the store fear me. I don't care. 8:01 PM - We are in South Austin. I have been drinking warm beer and singing Brooks and Dunn tunes for over an hour. My truck-mate is tired of my singing. He suggests that perhaps Brooks and Dunn have written other good songs besides "You're Going to Miss Me When I'm Gone" and "Neon Moon" and that maybe listening to only those two songs, ten times each was a bit excessive. Perhaps, he suggests, I could just let the CD play on its own. I tell him to fuck off and restart "Neon Moon." 8:30 PM - We arrive at the Erwin Center. My buddy, against my loud and profane protestations, parks on the top floor of a nearby parking garage. I tell him he's an idiot. I tell him we will never get out. I tell him we may as well pitch a fucking tent here. He ignores me. I think he's still pissed about the Brooks and Dunn tunes. I whistle "Neon Moon" loudly. 8:47 PM - I am rallying. I have 4 warm beers stuffed in my pants. We're going to kick the shit out of Arizona. 9:11 PM - Halftime score: Texas 31, Arizona 29. I am pleased. I go to the bathroom to pee for the 67th time today. I giggle to myself because of the new opportunity to do "the bathroom Brice." There are no Arizona fans in the bathroom. I am disappointed. I tell myself (out loud) that I have a "Niiiiiice cock." No one is amused but me. 9:41 PM - I walk to the bathroom while drinking Bud Light out of a can. Needless to say, they do not sell beer at the Erwin Center, much less Bud Light out of a can. An usher stops me: "Where did you get that, sir?" I tell him (no shit): "Oh, the cheerleaders were throwing them up with those little plastic foot balls. Would you mind throwing this away for me?" I take the last swig and hand it to him. He is confused. I pretend I'm going to the bathroom, but I run away giggling instead. I duck into some entrance to avoid the usher, who is now pursuing me. I sneak into a large group of people and sit down. The usher walks by harmlessly. I am giggling like a little girl. I crack open another can of Bud Light. 9:52 PM - I am lost. In my haste to avoid the usher, I have lost my bearings. I have no ticket stub. I cannot find my seats. Texas is losing. 10:09 PM - Texas is being screwed by the refs. I am enraged. I have cleared out the seats around me because I keep removing my hat and beating the surrounding chairs with it. A concerned fan asks if I’m OK and perhaps I shouldn't take it so seriously. I tell him to fuck off. 10:15 PM - After the fourth consecutive "worst fucking call I have EVER seen," I attempt to remove my hat again to begin beating inanimate objects. However, on this occasion I miscalculate and I thumbnail myself in my left eyelid, leaving a one-quarter inch gash over my eye. I am now bleeding into my left eye and all over my shirt. "Perhaps," I think to myself, "I'm taking this a bit seriously." 10:22 PM - I am standing in the bathroom peeing. I;m so drunk I am swaying and grunting. I have a bloody napkin pressed on my left eye. My pants are bloody. I have my (formerly) white shirt wrapped around my waist. I look like I should be in an episode of Cops. 10:43 PM - Texas has lost. I put my bloody white shirt back on my body and make my way for the exits. I am stopped every 20 seconds by a good Samaritan/cop/security guard to ask me why I am covered in blood, but I merely grunt incoherently and keep moving. 10:59 PM - With my one good eye, I have located the parking garage. I walk up six flights of stairs. . . promise that when I see my friend I will punch him in the face for making me walk up six flights of stairs. . . find the truck .. . . and collapse in a heap in the bed of the truck. I look around and notice that traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole flights, and no one is moving . . . I take a nap. 11:17 PM - I awake from my nap. I see my friend in the driver's seat.. I lift my head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole flights, and no one is moving. I am too tired to punch my friend. I call my friend a "Stupid cocksucker." 11:31 PM - I lift my head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole flights, and no one is moving. I call my friend a "stupid cocksucker." 11:38 PM - I lift my head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole flights, and no one is moving. I call my friend a "stupid cocksucker." 11:47 PM - I lift my head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that traffic is lined up all the way around the garage, six whole flights, and no one is moving. I call my friend a "stupid cocksucker." 11:58 PM - I am jostled. The truck is moving. I lift my head to look out the bed of the truck and notice that traffic is beginning to move on the second floor. I jump out of the truck, walk to the edge of the parking facility, and pee off the sixth floor onto the street below. My friend looks at me like I just anally violated his minor sister. I turn around and pee on the front of his truck while singing the lyrics to "Neon Moon." 12:11AM - We are moving. We are out of beer. I jump from the truck and go from vehicle to vehicle until someone gives me two beers. I am happy. I return to my vehicle. 12:26 AM - We have emerged from the parking facility. We make our way to my apartment and find Ed sitting on the couch with a freshly opened bottle of Glenlivet on the coffee table in front of him. . . . . We are all going to die tonight. 12:59 AM - We have finished three-quarters of the bottle of Glenlivet. We decide it would be a wonderful idea to go dancing at PollyEsther's. Ed has to pee. He walks down the hall to our apartment and directly into the full-length mirror at the end of the hall, smashing it into hundreds of pieces. We giggle uncontrollably and leave for PollyEsther's. 1:17 AM - The PollyEsther's doorman laughs uncontrollably at our efforts to enter his club. "Fellas," he says in between his fits of spastic laughter, "I've been working this door for almost a year. I've been working doors in this town for almost 5 years. And I can honestly say that I ain't never seen three drunker motherfuckers than you three. Sorry, can't let you in." We attempt to reason with him. He laughs harder. 1:44 AM - We find a bar that lets us in. We take two steps in the door and hear "Last call for alcohol!" I turn to the group and mutter: "See, dat wasn't that fuckin' hard. Day don't fuckin' do that at the Awamo...the awaom...the alab....fuck it, that stadium we was at today..." We order 6 shots of tequila and three beers. 2:15 AM - Back on the street. We need food. We hail a cab to take us the two and one half blocks to Katz's. The cab fare is $1.60. We give him $10 and tell him to keep it. 2:17 AM - There is a 20-minute wait. We give the hostess $50. We are seated immediately. 2:25 AM - We order two orders of fried pickles, a Cobb salad, a bowl of soup, two orders of Blueberry blintzes, two Rueben sandwiches, a hamburger, two cheese stuffed potatoes, an order of fries, and an order of onion rings. 2:39 AM - The food arrives. We are all asleep with our heads on the table. The waiter wakes us up. We eat every fucking bit of our food. Most of the restaurant patrons around us are disgusted. We don't give a fuck. The tab is $112 with tip. 2:46 AM - I'm sleepy. 9:12 AM - I wake up next to a strange woman. She is the bartender at Katz's. She is not pretty.

Surly right now:

Realize this, kind sir, we will be assured of a victory in the competition arena

It's 4 games you tards. Drink more and post less

It was Mikegundy'srant. I need to take a break from here. Some real life issues with my kid's health. Happy holiday to all of you.

Obama’s shameful tan suit on Easter Sunday back in the day when America wasn’t fucking nuts.

Leon's too slow to crash and burn. He'll barely get a scratch.

Well, Kate obviously dislikes sheep, so we got that going for us.

Dinner tonight. No pics of the process, just the after. Used my Weber with vortex to basically do the afterburner method. Sent from my SM-N950U using Tapatalk

Trump dresses like he just found the Zoltar machine and wished to be a boy again.

Donald J. Trump‏Verified account @realDonaldTrump 7h7 hours ago MoreVery concerned about today's news of this Jesus of Nazareth fellow. Nasty business with people from the Middle East, must be very careful. He is risen? Ok, where's his visa? NEED WALL! Mor

Don't run around throwing out neg rep like a bitch. Lighten up. I thought it was funny you were calling a rook an all star after one inning. Damn, new web site where we all get a fresh start and some people are already sensitive little nancys. Whatever I guess.

Delivery service talk not going away...

He only gets paid min wage

After O'Neal made his Herman v. Jimbo tweet, people were mocking him saying that he never actually had that choice. Overshown tweeted saying that Jimbo hadn't even wanted him at FSU. O'Neal shot back with this: Chill Texas Y'all Wanted Me Very Bad Ask Y'all Coach 😂 #HookEm pic.twitter.com/g0FmkPFo5u — Leon O’Neal Jr 9️⃣ (@WakeEmUp9) April 1, 2018 The picture was a screenshot of his conversation with Naivar, where Naivar was telling O'Neal that Texas wanted him and that was why he had visited O'Neal instead of Sterns that day and that all O'Neal had to do was commit and he could be part of a championship secondary. Of course, as aggies tend to do, Leon played himself. Overshown said to look at the date on the messages. They were from the day that Sterns committed and were from before either Foster or Overshown had gone public. The salt peddler of Cypress then deleted his tweets in shame.

Bet = What you speak is the truth and you may henceforth "bet that" G = gangsta/playa/play boi/ sum = something

Like a Boss

...

That’s because it’s Lit which typically means it’s about to collapse

That's all good, but you know a lot of them are going to walk just to get out of class & have fun. Those kids probably could care less what the cause is. But if they are truly passionate about a cause, they should be well educated on both sides of the issue - and don't allow either one (adult advocates) to manipulate them with one-sided talking points.

installed plugin per thread title. Clicking on threads should take you to first undread post. probably does not work in tapatalk

added a plugin that minimizes quotes. So when people quote something you'll just see a sample of it, not the whole thing, but you can click on it to see the whole thing.

Happy Easter you heathens. First time in years we weren't able to go to church (baby is too new to put into the nursery), but we got our fill of celebration with our church's live stream (not the same). Next up, brunch and Easter pictures. Love me some Easter.

Dumbass deleted most of his tweets from last night.

Well, it's definitely a "lake of fire" from Revelations, which of course is derived from the Nirvana song, which of course is in turn derived from "Smoke on the Water." Pretty simple, see?

I moved over from the Shag - signed up around 2010 - so some know me here. If you followed USC recruiting over the years, or SoCal 4&5* kids recruitment in particular, most wait till signing day and they take all their visits. Our coaching staff encourages it, sighting they will never have this opportunity again, we want them sure USC is the place. last cycle both Elijah Griffin and Isaac Taylor-Stuart took the majority of their visits to SEC schools, yet signed with USC on signing day. It can be nerve racking, but USC brings in the haul on signing day. Chris Steele, by his own account, has been on the USC campus "a hundred times", and on first name basis with security, lol. This recruitment is like Adoree' Jackson's, he'll take all his visits, say the right thing, but end up staying home. Not saying this is absolute, but my friend Scott missed On only one recruit last cycle, and that was a kid who was torn between USC and Oregon down to signing day morning. Also, Poly kids tend to commit to USC, we have 14 on the team.

I'd eat at "The Chicken Warehouse". Just sayin'...

If I had to guess who will be the nominee, I'd have to guess Kamala Harris. She's immensely popular and doesn't have much national political experience. She may suffer a bit in the primaries due to her very tough on crime views while serving as DA of SF and then AG of CA, but she'll likely survive that. Her limited time in the Senate allows her to keep her hands mostly clean and the last primary and general election on both sides showed having a history can make life awfully difficult. Second guess would be Hickenlooper trying to run with the whole moderate schtick. I don't think it'll work with everyone so polarized and fired up, but we'll see. Dark horse: Pete Buttgieg. I think he'll run and lose. He'll parlay that either into a successful Governor or Congressional run in 2022 or potentially be a VP pick. Darker horse: No idea if he has any desire to do so, but Schiff has made quite a big name for himself and could be the golden boy based on how these investigations go. As for who I want it to be, I want a Democrat who's damn good on foreign policy, especially wrt to China and Russia (or at the very least someone who recognizes how important FP is and gets an elite staff). Trump has made countering China in Asia and the rest of the world so much harder than it had to be. We need to put some serious work into rebuilding alliances across the entire world if we are to limit China's growth and ensure our continued place at the top defining the rules and standards of international politics, trade, and technology. Being able to do so has brought us an incredible ROI and we need to keep that power. As for Russia, their economy is in deep trouble and Putin's wars and military parades can only distract from the fact for so long. Obama's sanctions during a time of increasing oil prices starting a run on the ruble was very advantageous for us as it resulted in Russia burning through its forex reserves to stabilize the currency and an overall weakening of their economic situation(read more here as they have a surprising good summary of it: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_financial_crisis_(2014–2017)). GDP growth has been terrible with an absolute collapse from 2014 (start of the annexation of Crimea) to 2017. Having a massive loss in GDP during a global recover/boom is terrible and now still having a 1.5% growth rate as a developing nation is terrible. Economic and geopolitical forecasters warn about the political situation as a result of this come 2023-2026 and it'd be great if we had a foreign policy team that could take advantage of that.

Things are coming along. Have some little straight leaf grass coming up through the straw. Going to deal with that tomorrow by putting down more straw. Looks like the grass is where the straw wasn't as thick as other places. Also had to put up chicken wire on the bottom of the new fencing. The fence has worked out great for keeping out the chocolate lab, but wife's damn shih tzu can fit through the wire squares. Wouldn't really care as she doesn't do anything wrong in there but that dumb bitch gets all freaking out when trying to get out of the garden. She got hung up the other day and the last thing I need is a wife with a dead dog because of my garden. Pic is without new chicken wire.

The biggest factor I’ve seen that seems to determine if people think it has “rights” or not is how much charisma is it has. I.e., Deer, cattle, foxes etc have people protesting; meanwhile bees, quail, bighorn sheep, and boatloads of other stuff on the ESL, etc have been having some real struggles and none of these folks are doing anything about that. This leads into another factor I don’t understand the logic of: I think they are more pissed that people are killing and eating the animals than if the animals were dying of disease, or indirect human cause. A new resident around Yellowstone asked an old backcountry guide “what can I do to help preserve the ecosystem around the park?” The answer: burn down your house and move back to California. We all live in buildings that destroyed habitat and displaced fauna. Farming vegetables on a industrial scale displaces fauna. Our individual existence results in the death of animals. Killing them to eat them vs driving them out of their habitat and/or into death by some other means seems arbitrary.

Just made this Lemon Ricotta cake. It's pretty good and only about 4g net carbs per slice. Not too sweet. Thinking of letting it soak in a bit of heavy cream. https://www.lowcarbmaven.com/lemon-ricotta-cake/

Grief can be so debilitating. It manifests itself in so many different ways. I hope you Surly-ites find peace, love and joy on Easter. http://dadsjourneywithed.blogspot.com/2018/03/grief-easter-hope-and-death.html

Thank god Wescott is on the case to assess our prowess on the recruiting trail.

Still trying to get pictures to work...sigh. But I like this one. He looks pretty surly. [][\img]

Why was Baylor hanging around with Briles and Starr? Those are some bad dudes.

Can we agree to leave the engorgement scale at shaggy? No saints here but that was just weird.

I don't own a squatty potty, but I like having my feet raised. So I always turn my trashcan on it's side when I shit. Or in hotels I'll use random furniture. Once I jammed an ottoman in the john so I could poop like a gentleman.

Not that I expect an SF mayor to have a shot at the presidency, but the "California is a disaster" nonsense is always laughable. Its the biggest economic engine we have. Any desirable place is going to struggle with housing costs and homelessness.

that's one big fat face. He may be part bull frog.