A Metaphor for the Ole Miss Season

Classic Message Board Fodder by "An Old Standard"at NAFOOM.com

Cause sometimes you just need to honor a classic message board post that seems to capture the moment, and, ever so eloquently, sum up the thoughts of a fanbase. I'll never look at Bebe (The Orgeron's Cajun nickname) the same way. This post comes to us from an Ole Miss fan in anticipation of the "big CBS game" this weekend between his 3-7 Rebels and #1 LSU...not to mention the huge Egg Bowl coming up in Starkville.

Pissin' In The Hot Tub

We were drinking one night at an apartment complex in Starkville. One toolbag drunk kid who was friends with someone we were staying with has brought home a classic Starkville skank. She’s got a beer gut (with belly-button piercing), a bad blonde dye job, acne covered with caked on make-up, all the intelligence and charm of a cow patty and dresses in a manner that can best be described as 10 lbs of meat in a 5 lb sack. The guy has been talking s**t all night, trying to start fights, taking fruity shots and talking endlessly about how much of a badass he is and how much tail he can pull. He owns at least one windsuit and wears it on a regular basis, guaranteed.

They disappear from the apartment together. Later, we discover that they’ve stripped down and are getting down in the apartments’ hot tub. Upon seeing this display, my friend RW (smoked out of his brain) stumbles down to the side of the hot tub, largely unnoticed by the happy, naked couple. When the guy finally comes up for air, it’s too late. RW has dropped his pants and is taking a piss into the hot tub. They both freak out, jump out of the water and scurry off. RW shakes, zips up and goes back upstairs to puke in the bathtub and pass out.

LSU is the douchebag guy. The delusional legend of his own mind, drunk with his own perceived greatness (and lots of Hot Damn), but mostly just a pain in the ass to everybody else. State is the girl who lives with constant self-esteem issues, but covers it up with make-up and wine coolers. Every now and again, she stumbles upon someone whose beer goggles match her self-image. She sees such drunken hook-ups as validation of her beauty and the start of long-lasting happiness. However, it always ends in tears when everybody sobers up.

And then there’s us. Stumbling through life only half awake with nothing in front of us other than a fade to black until all the self-inflicted poisons wear off, so we can start the road to recovery. But, before our time is over, we can do the rest of the civilized world a great service by putting the annoying couple in their place.

For the rest of the season, it’s all about pissing in everybody else’s hot tub of love. It's time for Bebe to crank the shrimp boat up to ramming speed and take some of these assholes down with us.

- An Old Standard

Wow. It's like a suicide note and a Lou Holtz pep Talk all in one. It's a thing of beauty. Major credit, Mr. Standard. I'd start a slow clap, but I the whole slow clap thing is pretty gay these days (NTTAWWT).


Who wants a golden shower?!? Miles? Anyone?