all VOL, y'all.

I Hate Bama. Promise.

Okay, people. I hate Alabama, and I’m taking time out of my Friday afternoon to tell you just that. Why, you might ask? Because I didn’t want there to be any confusion on the matter. After all, I did pick Alabama to cover the spread which prompted the following, eloquent comment:

“You fucking prick. I don’t know who you are, but I could do a flying ninja kick to your scrotum for picking Alabama. Is nothing sacred with you you inbred pig fucker.”

To which I responded:

“now, now, Leatherhead Jones. no need to get all uppity. you never know — i could have been doing the ol’ reverse jinx. WHICH, of course, you’ve now totally FUCKED UP because I was forced to admit it as much. so way to go. Dick.”

Now, I’m pretty sure that Leatherhead is actually an all VOL devotee. As such, I don’t believe that he wasn’t really contemplating a flying ninja kick to my scrotum just because I picked Alabama.

Still, he brings up a good point. How could any guy who goes by all VOL, y’all pick against the VOLS?

Well, as I said in my comment, it was meant to be a reverse jinx of sorts, albeit one I got called out on. And, as I’m sure you know, when you have to explain a reverse jinx, it reverses that reverse jinx which means all you’ve got is a regular jinx. And when you have a regular jinx, whatever you don’t want to happen (Tennessee getting run out of the stadium) is exactly what will happen.

Which means I gotta somehow reverse this reverse jinx which Leatherhead Jones unknowingly turned into a real jinx. (Nice work, Leatherhead. Y’damn idiot.) But I don’t know how to do that. And I’m worried about it. So worried that I’ve decided to make an emergency post to tell you two things.

First, and, again, I HATE BAMA. Got that? Check out this following exchange I had with a Bama fan just last week when promoting a recent all VOL y’all post:

See? Told you I hated Bama. Would I have abused that poor simpleton were this not the case?

Here’s the deal: I covered Alabama for a job I had in a previous life and during that time, my dislike for the state reached an all-time high — a level which has never once decreased in all these years. I can tell you with great authority thanks to my first-hand experiences that the state of Alabama leads the nation in:

(a) morbid obesity (makes Mississippi look like Santa Monica for fuck’s sake)
(b) illiteracy
(c) reported incidences of three nipples*
(d) #3 flags (he died, y’all)
(d) goats that play Dead super, super well, and, finally,
(e) annoying fans

*it’s estimated that three times that number goes unreported each year because so few can afford the copay at the walk-in clinic

And now that these fans have their robo-like leader, they’re more annoying than ever. Sure. They win a lot. And sure, he’s a great coach. BUT he’s also a total dick. Check out this 20-second video:

Nice people skills, Nick. You’d make even the geekiest and most awkward of actuaries come off like George Clooney.

This is because Saban’s a total megalomaniac. (Poofy hairdo — telltale sign. See also: creative combing and fastidious headset placement.)

Another thing — and something I shared in a previous post:  Saban wears shoe inserts. What kind of douche wears shoe inserts? Why, the Saban kind, of course.

And, now that I think about it, that might be why he fits in so well down there. Because, say what you want, but the shoe inserts and creatively combed poofy hairdo are indicative of a certain stick-to-it-tiveness — a certain I’ll make what I’ve got look a little fancier brand of thought which is part and parcel of all the inbreedshabitants of that horrible, wretched state.

Take that dimwitted gentleman in the header picture, for example. He’s taken his shitty Alabama lawn chair, some duct tape, a coupla two by fours, a little Styrofoam (which he probably got from one of the dolls he bought after the sheep kept “dying” on him?) and that temperamental trolling motor he got in exchange for one of his meth pipes and BOOM, he’s magically parlayed them all into a personalized watercraft.

If only I could commend this resourceful, be-mulletted redneck.

Say, that’s one helluva bass boat, Clem. Does your transistor radio pick up while you’re floating that shit-infested pond on your Uncle’s Daryl’s tire farm? Because if so, you can listen to the game on the water.

And you know what you’re gonna hear?


Because the second thing I’m telling y’all this afternoon is this: I’m REVERSING MY EARLIER PICK in honor of Leatherhead Jones and his eloquent plea.

Take the VOLS and the points, baby!

And let’s shock the world on Saturday!


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