Them ags love to tell their sip stories. Just wait til November 30th at Kyle Field. By god, I’m really gonna give ‘em something to remember and post about on TexAgs. I’ve been working with a personal trainer to be prepared to strut into Aggieland with a formidable pair of forearms trained to push sweet, old grandmas outta my way and down steps. My level of arrogance and despicable conduct will be told and retold for years. When I’m not pushing sweet Aggy grannies, I’ll be cussin’ aggy children. The most vile, uncivilized, and inappropriate tee yew filth spat out just to land upon the ears of those precious little future cosplay soldiers, farmers, and middle managers. I’ll soldier through the pearl clutching and gasping, the hisses, the “how dare yous” and “well, I nevers,” and probably have to stare down some aggy manlet with a hero complex who will retreat when he gets close enough to see the forearms. I’m gonna show ‘em a level of arrogance that they’ll think only existed in their minds and on their message boards. A loud, swaggering mix of bragging, boasting, cussing, and spitting while mocking BCS and those poooor aggies, and singing the praises of Austin and THE University. I’ll confirm their suspicions of me being the worst kind of sip by stating that I didn’t even graduate from Texas, I’m a tee shirt fan living off the generational wealth of my straight ticket Democrat voting family.
Then again, if I did all of that and some aggy made a TexAgs post to bear witness and vent their disgust, the replies would be along the lines of, “Yeah, that’s what they all do. It’s who they are.”