BachCap 6: Out In The Badlands

I’ll be honest. I’m not sure how long today’s post is going to be. It’s like the part of being on a hallucinogenic trip where the fun ends and suddenly the clock seems to move in reverse and you aren’t sure you’re even a living, breathing human.

Shit gets weird and you aren’t sure which way is up.

Rose ceremonies to start the show. One weird north country location after the next. Basically, a terrifying collection of impossible occurrences out of sequence. This show has spent years establishing a format that this season, they are straight up Gone Girling…

Speaking of Gone Girl…



It’s a shame this is the episode I decided to call her Amazing Amy. It’s a shame because barring her returning from the grave to murder everyone, she’s Gone Girl. Or Gone Baby Gone. Both Affleck jams. Weird. Inception.

We started this episode off mid pseudo-panic attack. I say pseudo because anyone who’s had a panic attack is not lucid like that. Period. They aren’t telling stupid jokes about store-bought brownies, but hopefully Chris saw this and felt good knowing he wouldn’t be married to someone who even in the throes of debilitating anxiety can criticize something trivial. HAVE FUN DRESSING YOUR KIDS TO SCHOOL. Gigglepuss would be working on a beer gut and muttering I CAN’T DO ANYTHING RIGHT™ on the regs. On a farm.

Here’s why I’m calling BS™. She says she’s having a panic attack (a self diagnosis) and then says she’s never had one before. I mean, how on earth could you define a physical reaction you have never had? Total Full Shining move. She reads WebMD and does a Target x Missoni collab with ACTING CLASS™ to make sure she has an arsenal of FULLY BELIEVABLE™ breakdowns complete with REALISTIC SYMPTOMS™.

She tells the girls she uses big words and has eloquence. Personally, for me, she sounds like a weird translation of a Victorian novel translated into Japanese and then translated back into English. The words are big. They have the makings of forming sentences, but something is getting lost in translation.



Like, fairly sure she said “in the grand scream of things” – jus’ sayin’.

I don’t feel like talking about the 1:1 date with The Other Virgin because she’s nice, she should probably win the show and in her high school yearbook she was voted Least Likely To Kill Herself Living On A Farm With A Man Who Giggles.

I like this girl. She makes Gigglepuss laugh, which I like also because his laugh makes me feel better about myself. I could find a briefcase filled with blow and cash and still feel better knowing my laugh sounds nothing like a tickle fight between eight year old girls.

She gets the rose.

The group date highlights the fact we are in Deadwood, South Dakota. There seems to be no budget. We’re not anywhere near Europe. We’re going to places likely to survive a nuclear holocaust because who is even trying to bomb Mount Rushmore. I mean, it says a lot that this is where Mount Rushmore is. It’s a place so rich in mountains no one cares about it’s like, “sure bro, you can carve Act One of Presidential Disneyland into nature” – we got plenty.

Best thing ever in Deadwood was in the TV show, when they showed Bulleit, which isn’t even my well bourbon at home anymore, but it’s better than this group date and I liked how it was like time traveling alcohol because I feel like I time travel when I’m drinking. I’m also tall.

So they go to TGIDeadwoods and guess who is there? BIG N RICH. You know, the metrosexual country singers who brought you the song “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy” which they’ve been milking like a dead cow for decades. While is was a great “whoa, those dudes are still alive?” moment, it’s pretty depressing to see country rock stars. As they attempt to be Keith Richards despite writing songs about, well, COUNTRY STUFF™, they end up looking like off-broadway cast members from Wicked.

All the girls have to write a country song. Chris sounds so bad I’m afraid if I write about it, I’ll hear it again.

Most girls are fine.

Bratzny crushes it because she is not a damn waitress. She’s an actress/model/dancer/whatever, one of thousands in LA willing to be on this show in hopes of getting to host two minute segments aired on payment portals in the back of cabs in NYC. Dream big, people. Dream big.



Like, they definitely take this picture for everyone when you have orientation at Ruby Tuesdays. Please. If she did a half-shave in Iowa, they’d make her go to church.

Carly the Cruise Singer does great, but because she isn’t Bratzny, she isn’t going to win.

In the dumbest stunt ever, Chris steals Bratzny away to a Big N Rich concert (as a reward or punishment, I’m not sure) and she pretends to give an F.

This won’t end well.

Back at the hotel later, the girls are mad because FEELINGS™, but it’s clear the damn producers are just looking for one murder. And what better place to murder than DEADWOOD! I mean seriously, there’s no better place.

Finally, the 2 on 1.

Kartrashian versus Amazing Amy/Full Shining. Suddenly, we are all rooting for the Human Eyelash. She is turnt on ending Full Shining. Full Shining is turnt on making bacon out of someone’s face and smiling like ghosts are holding her eyes open with frozen bone fingers. Look at her. Seriously.

This date starts with a helicopter.


Despite how I felt, the tension was so bad in the helicopter flying over the Badlands that the pilot had to be like:


When they land at this bed they just magically put in the middle of nowhere, it gets even weirder. Weirder than a bed in the middle of nowhere. Why a bed? Why not a couch? A teak patio seating arrangement. What on earth was possible with the bed?

First, Kartrashian goes off with Chris and her eyelashes try to lag behind but they can’t. She just decides to throw Full Shining under the bus. Chris takes this news and relays it back to Full Shining who gets weird and half denies it but half just – whatever. She’s nuts.

Then Kartrashian gets summoned again (all presumably in the middle of nowhere by a creepy bed) and basically Chris just dumps her. He says she won’t fit in with his lifestyle (duh) and then she melts down and throws Kelsey under the bus more (just to make sure the villain is dead) and then throws Bratzny under the bus too for good measure, just to kill Chris’ ultimate warm crotchal feelings for her.

He leaves her to the Badlands and then goes back and dumps Kelsey.

This plays out best as the girls back at the Motel 6 see the drama unfold as a nameless producer removing BOTH suitcases. DOUBLE MURDER SUICIDE™ with a CHAMPAGNE TOAST™.

The helicopter leaves without the girls and then the Hunger Games begin.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap 5: Edgar Allen Kelsey Poe

This season is drunk, go home. Or stay out and tell us about your ex-lovers. Actually, yeah, tip your wine goblet, time for a big, frosty, oaky chardonnay and maybe a shot of Fernet or two. You are basic. You are drunk. And I want to ask you to prom and say “I love you” way TOO SOON™.

I don’t remember the first girl’s name, but being that she didn’t know New Mexico was in America, I’m just going to call her Google Maps. Not because it’s clever, it’s just like I hope if she reads this blog like so many people on this show have at one point, she gets it as a life tip. Just Google Maps. It takes two seconds and you can avoid wearing a sombrero like a moron and wondering if there is Old Mexico. It was pretty fun to watch her racist Native American dance in the end of the show. Well, fun is the wrong word.

By the way, the Macarena was created by a Spanish band. That’s Old Spain. Not New Mexispain.

Let’s BachCap.

For a lot of cities, donating hotels, cultural sites and extreme sports dates to the Bachelor is a win for tourism. Pretty sure no one on the Santa Fe tourism board is feeling that way waking up with a hangover today. They are doing the walk of shame last night. They went to the fantasy suite with Chris Harrison and he filmed a porno without them knowing basically. They did everything short of a Breaking Bad themed date in ABQ to make a quaint, charming candlelit town of plazas and kachina dolls terrifying.

Let’s start with the Love Guru.


Yeah, oooorrrr nahhhh.

This love guru was 50 shades of sage and worse, the Cruise Crooner hates physical intimacy. So. First date is a little game called “Is A Crazy Woman Watching Enough To Not Get Aroused”. It’s going to be America’s past time. Sorry baseball, but we have a new thing to think about when we’re trying to perform well in bed.

Should have expected this date when the date card was literally “let’s come together” – SO YEAH™. Even worse, somewhere in some unknown part of the midwest (or possibly south) someone heard that and went “awwwwwwww” – for the right reasons.



I like Cruise Crooner, it made me sad that her last man didn’t dig her sexually and now she has lowered self esteem. I know a man shouldn’t define you, but same time, I think she’s allowed to feel some self confidence issues if she wants. At least her hang ups don’t manifest like Kartrashian who thinks everything that happens SHOULD HAVE BEEN HER™. She’d get jealous of an unwanted pregnancy.

Watching Gigglepuss and Crooner kiss, it struck me that their future child would have less upper lip than the girl from Cabin Fever. Don’t google that. It took me years to be able to sneak up on attractive blondes in my bed after that film. My wife just closed the browser, but in fairness, you never expect the Muppets.

They threw in the towel at a certain point and I was left pondering the swimming pool area which, like the Bachelor mansion, had weird arches framing the viewing. Did they ever leave Agoura Hills? Are we all on peyote? Are you feeling it yet?

Crooner is a good person. She gets the rose. I get to move on. From the date and the Cabin Fever image. OH GOD I PICTURED IT AGAIN.

The group date participants were announced in the form of questions, what an annoying voice. They are going rafting down the good ole Rio Grande, the subject of every song in Texas. Trust me, I know.

Kelsey starts saying crazy stuff, but I mostly ignore it. I’ve known people who talk like her. They are stuck somewhere between the speaking qualities of a bad Jane Austen adaptation film and the world’s worst PowerPoint deck about brand salience and market penetration. The lights are on, someone is home, but that someone eats their toenails and has a stuffed animal from childhood they still like MORE THAN A FRIEND™.

An extra from every adventure movie ever comes out and warns us that this shit is dangerous and to be careful and Jademate is just like I’M GOING IN THE WATER™. She has a condition one lucky contestant gets every season which is selective hypothermia and the reward is alone time and being glared at your enemies. I want to develop SELECTIVE NOT IN THE MOOD FOR TRADER JOE’S RUNS™. Huge fan of their Simply Cashews, Almonds and Cranberries mix though. Seriously, what’s not to like.

I just felt like Dolvett from Biggest Loser there explaining why Subway has your weight loss goals in mind when they created the chicken teriyaki two inch sub (my nickname in high school).


Later at the hotel, the girls are drinking pretty hard and Jordan shows back up. If you don’t remember Jordan, congratulations, you will probably meet a mate, have children and live a normal life.

She was Captain Wasted Twerk from a couple weeks before. You know BRF (bitchy resting face)? She has PSF (pretty standing face). I was thinking she looked nice, but then she sat down and I got confused again. Maybe when she sits she looks more like she did when she drank a gallon of Finlandia and decided I’M SO GOOD AT DANCING™. There’s not a ton of research on PSF. Yet. Wear a chardonnay colored ribbon if you support finding a cure.

Girls start STONE COLD BUGGIN’™ about another girl coming back and Kartrashian says she doesn’t understand the concept of being nice to people. I just keep picturing the lucky man who goes home with her and after her fifth time crying, she peels off her eyelash extensions, sticks them to your headboard along with her gum (Dentyne Ice, Arctic Blast, are you even kidding, there was so much garlic in that tagliatelle) and then gives you an uncomfortably aggressive kiss.

For real, she kisses like those things in Harry Potter that suck out your good feelings. She’s a dementor.


Fertility Nurse just plays it cool. It’s amazing how saying “I’m for being nice to people” can make you look like a Rhodes Scholar on this show.

Mother of Kale and Kartrashian are just some weird form of Timon and Pumba. They are literally like two lost dimwits that will find their purpose in a charming animated film. Makes me want to see their reality show AFTER THE FINAL ROSE because until they are eliminated, it’s super weird to what them say english words that don’t connect to each other together. Kartrashian is like “I hate how like, this isn’t for me, I love talking to guys alone more than most people” and Mother of Kale is just like “Aliens are so tall sometimes, but at least sandwiches.”


Gigglepuss dispatches Twerkington Bear and even though he did the right thing, O Canada keeps making Mary Kate prune faces and no one gets any happier at all.

Final date card is for Bratzny, who we learned has not showered yet? Is that a thing? And she sleeps in full make-up? I mean I’ve called girls on the show WET MESS™ before, which if you are new here is basically Kartrashian. You know she just leaves wet messy piles of everything from tissues to make up to clothing. She is like the floor of a 20 year old model’s instagram feed.

Anyway, Bratzny is tripping balls because the acting contract she signed to be on this show didn’t include showers or jumping off shit and her date card says something about the sky.

Chris wakes her up and makes out with her fully make-upped face (really) and that makes Cruise Crooner SO MAD™ because despite hundreds of episodes, we still can’t figure out your BF is effing you in the B* by making out with every one there. (*credit, Scott Pilgrim, please watch it).

chris-soules-1-800They go on a hot air balloon ride powered completely by the bullshit Bratzny is spitting because the producers told her to and she wants a walk on role on Vanderpump Rules like Jade got:




Bratzny gets the rose and a nap with Chris. It may be sex, but every season they do the door close thing and then the next week it’s like OR NAH.

Before the cocktail party, this show went FULL SHINING™


Kelsey Poe, who now is called Full Shining, decided to confront Chris about her dead husband because the voices in her head told her to. She goes to find his room and sits him down and proceeds to tell him about her husband’s mysterious death. She refers to him as Sanderson Poe and immediately I got scared.


If I had a dead spouse, would I go on national television and refer to him by their full name? I rarely refer to any human by their full name. “I was at the movies with my friend Frank Pomegranate.” Feels super weird.

But then she starts crying and then making out with Chris. She feels relieved to tell the story because it helped her with Chris. I can’t figure it out. She starts saying she “loves her story” – wait what?



She loves her story about HER HUSBAND DYING?


She returns to the cocktail party where lots of girls are nervous, but not Full Shining. She’s ALL GOOD™ because in her world, HER STORY™ confirmed she has won this week.

Then, Chris shows up and starts crying (presumably from witchcraft) and then peaces out. He cancels the cocktail party and says we’re going straight to the rose ceremony.

Full Shining decides this is the time to stop talking about how good her shoes look and move right on to having a full blown, potentially not real panic attack requiring paramedics. I get it. Panic attacks are scary, but she is terrifying and capable of anything.



So do you. Catch you on the flip. Sleep with one eye open. Looks like more than one cast member has been to MESA VERDE™







Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap 4: I Feel Nothing

Before we get started, I caught a picture on BABYTEETH™’s (Andi Dorfman) Instagram feed that made me laugh out loud. Felt like I had to share.

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This picture had the caption: solace. Solace? I mean, sweet humble brag on matching your sweater to your fireplace and all, but solace has something to do with being alone and you clearly asked someone to take this picture of you so you could tell people you are alone (and presumably happy). I know you want to tell us you are okay being alone after Crap Leinart, but no one doubted that. You are some form of lawyer and he is a former sorority boy known for being born slightly before a mostly unknown NFL draftee.

We’re sure you will get over him. Solace or nah. Just put your chin up and go back to using your brain to make money. Your feed is that slippery slope forming. You are about one invite to a fake Bachelor red carpet away from starting a clothing line no one wants, a style blog no one reads, a work out company no one uses or some combination of the three. From there, there’s only rung lower and that’s continuing to give interviews about your born-again virginity.

Guys, this can all stop when you return to the private sector. Got plenty of evidence that exists. Just go back to the private sector. Andi, I know you can do it. Don’t get sucked in. If a lawyer can’t get out, then I have to admit this show is about SOUL MURDER™ and that’s going to make it hard for me to enjoy dinner tonight.

OK. BachCap?

Chris Harrison woke up 32 seconds before having to come into the chicken coop to let the ladies know that there’s a whole charcuterie board of variety dates this week and even MORE CRAY™ is the fact that Gigglepuss’ sisterwives are coming into town from their busy lives staring at their millions corn and help evaluate them.

Women judging women. What could go wrong?

So the first date is at Lake Piru, which I didn’t know exist and I lived in LA for the better part of two decades. Was convinced they were saying Pitz Palu and came close to watching Inglorious Basterds for that whole scene about Pitz Palu and Fassbender and Diane Kruger are just being awesome and then everyone kills each other. This date was worse than that.

I guess it’s near Lake Castaic 1/7 of the way north to Bakersfield. In basic terms, they could drink three bottles of cheap chardonnays in that time. That’s the new distance measurement. How far is it? Oh, it’s five bottles of Barefoot Chard in a limo away.

Lake Piru seems to be a lawless body of water. Kartrashian kicks off the batshit by deciding it’s time to free herself from her shyness (is she shy?) by upgrading from underboob to full toplessness for a swim. Not to be undone, Kaitlyn with her TWIN BIRDS™ tattoos (just nah) decides to go bottomsless, which I realized I may have never seen before. Like, that’s telling. Time to skinny dip. Pick a clothing item to remove first – PANTS™. Canada.

My favorite part was how the black box totes cheated on Flight Recorder to cover Twin Birds up. Saucy minx.



Kelsey is NOT HAVING™ this date. She played the dead fiance card hard, but now it seems she’s just playing the EFF ALL THESE GIRLS AND ACTIVITIES™ card.



Kelsey is mad that this lake is muddy and points out that she’s from Michigan where the lakes are amazing. Speaking from experience, this was the first time anyone ever admitted out loud they are FROM MICHIGAN™. Also, she’s living in Austin right now. Great town. But don’t be talking about muddy lakes.



The only mud here is the mud you are slangin’ in Gigglepuss’ game. Even worse, when she finds out that they are camping she wigs out. I promise in high school she won MOST LIKELY TO CRY HYSTERICALLY IN THE CHECKOUT LINE AT SAFEWAY WHEN BUYING GUM TRIGGERS SOMETHING™. Mark it, dude.

MESA VERDE™ returns when the sun goes down. I’m cynical. I normally think these are actresses, but I don’t think the show can afford an actress good enough to fake this. Unless she is actually CATE BLANCHETT™ in prosthetic makeup, this is real. She asks Chris a bunch of epic things including “what are you” before sneaking in for a haunting kiss. Now she will have his scent and when she turns into a werewolf, he’s effing dead.

Twin Birds gets the rose. Convinced telling an adult you are a virgin is a turn on (it’s terrifying), Kartrashian needs to go rogue and tell Chris she’s never been sullied.

Real quick, why does she think this is a good thing? It can’t be because Mother of Kale told her. Like it was probably cool when we were young, but at the same time it’s the most responsibility, highest likelihood of stage five clinger spawning. Do you really want a guy that is turned on by virginity? That feels weird. It feels like it should be fairly secondary to things like “do I like you” and “are you attractive” and “will you murder me in my sleep” – she’s off brief.

There’s another fallacy in the whole virgin conquering. Would you be excited to ride in a car with someone who has never driven? How many doctors have you picked based on the fact they have never performed surgery before? Need your taxes done? You aren’t going to a 17 year old who might be good at math.

I’m not saying we need a PRO™, but who the hell is turned on by inexperience in this category. This means she is likely learning about what to do from porn, her friends’ exaggerated sex stories and possibly Disney films. Don’t believe me? She’s obsessed with being a princess and kisses like a Dyson AirBlade. But yeah, super turned on.

When she goes to confess all this drivel to Chris, she starts sounding like Dr. Evil and saying she’s friggin’ innocent and things like that, almost making me forget she took her shirt of on national television.

Screen Shot 2015-01-27 at 10.18.43 AM

Back at the house, the sisters show up during a pool party and they are here to interview the girls. Flight Recorder has her black box up and in full effect. They settle on Stilettos in Bed, who hasn’t talked much, but made her point at the pool party.

She gets a pretty amazing girl-crack date. She gets to be a part of ABC’s cross-promotional content piece for the upcoming major motion picture Cinderella starring that girl from Downton Abbey and an upbeat, blonde, not-with-Tim-Burton Helena Bonham Carter. Speaking of Downton, how fun would it be to have the Dowager Countess watch the show with you and toss put downs to these girls over their heads and then have a heart attack from being mortified… I think fun. Who’s having cava and jamon serrano?

Kartrashian’s struggle is real. She’s always been poorly parented into thinking she is actually the most deserving person to dress up like a princess (thanks dad) and starts wigging out as Jade and her blurred out back tattoo (what is it?!?!) get to try on Loubitons and expensive dresses that she GETS TO KEEP™. Kartrashian thinks this is a glitch in the Matrix. You are from NJ, you aren’t special and you aren’t a princess. Get with the new economy. It’s dog eat dog, bruh.


Jade looks good on her fairytale date and she seems glad to be there, likely because she didn’t see Gigglepus air dancing like Neville Longbottom at Hogwarts.


The date went well and Chris thinks she’s the girl next door, but like, she is The Girl Next Door:


I wonder how the wholesome Iowan sisters would feel if they knew she came to LA and posed nude for a Playboy amateur site. I mean, it shouldn’t bother them, but in the end farm values may be conservative. Or not. I don’t know what goes on in the corn fields besides dead baseball players return because when Costner built it, they came.

The next group date is a mud run in which the girls are dressed in wedding gear. This proves to be ZERO PROBLEM™ for Flight Recorder who just books it like a vacation to Cabo (you basics). She is the first contestant to treat this competition for a man’s heart as an actual physical competition.

On Double Dare, she just cut Marc Summers off and was like PHYSICAL CHALLENGE™.

Here favorite song is I Wanna Get Physical by Olivia Newton John.


The big bonus for winning this race was the one-on-one night date, which was a romantic dinner at my favorite hotel in San Francisco, the Fairmont (I always get the rose). Despite the romantic setting and despite the fact the Chris doesn’t normally mind listening, Flight Recorder was blowing it. It was some odd supplement fueled rage that made it really, really clear that Instagram is wrong: strong is not always the new sexy.

At one point she asked if Chris would rather have sex with a homeless woman with a bird in her hair or not have sex for five years. As crazy as this question is with basically a stranger, all Chris heard was this:


NO ROSE FOR YOU. She maybe can handle CrossFit, but not her liquor. Adios.

The cocktail party was pretty uneventful for the most part. I did enjoy when Becca admitted she was a virgin too and Kartrashian immediately felt worthless and probably cried. The fact that Becca didn’t think it was so interesting makes me think she might just have abstained for normal reasons and thus she isn’t scary.

Bratzny tried to confront Chris about picking Twin Birds on the Date at Naked Lake, but it sort of backfires and he awkward storms out, randomly gives the IF ANY OF YOU DOUBT MY INTENTIONS Rick Flair talk to the girls, and then sends MESA VERDE home.

Highlight of the night was her exit in the credits where she told us I FEEL NOTHING™.

I’m getting there myself.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap 3: The Date Show With Jimmy Kimmel

You need to take this show with a grain of bath salts. I am typically against any deviations from the formula. Give me a helicopter. Give me some drunken rose ceremonies. Give me a couple sneak attacks with Chris Harrison popping out of a bush with a champagne flute and a knife clinking and for the most part, I’m a HAPPY CAMPER™.

So when the episode starts with Jimmy Kimmel sneaking into a very staged wake up scene (or they just film Chris sleeping all the time, que lastima), I get skeptical that we’re adding a designated hitter to my game. I like my sports traditional and this was a very scripted departure SANS MUPPETS ™ so it was pretty much NOT OKAY™.

I’m not Jimmy Kimmel fan. I reluctantly laugh at his promos. I appreciated when he was chubby on Win Ben Stein’s Money (we all had a 90s, Jimmy but mine was high school). I get that he’s had more plastic surgery in his face than most of these women have had in their NOT FACE™. Seriously, he is one nip/tuck from being on Real Housewives of Late Night Television.

But the thing is, he shined here and I didn’t expect it. I mean I know he’s the 5th best late night host on television, but being 100% honest, he won me back. I am for Kimmel. He went on there and did a very polished version of what I’d do. He talked about everything. He called them out for saying “the right reasons” and called them “sister wives.” Even better, he started a tip jar for when they said amazing. He allowed the show to go to a self-reflexive place and in doing so, took a great season and it HYPERGREAT™.

Chris Harrison looked very annoyed to be sharing the spotlight. It really brought into question what he does on the show (besides hardcore narcotics to be able to look in the mirror). You could tell having a real improve talent in the room was frusterating for him. He even left his tie at home in the beginning, opting to go for the “new-divorced at a cougar bar” BLAZER x V-NECK collab. Chris, you’re better than that. Just because Jimmy got some laughs when he said he’d be taking sexual test drives with all the girls in front of you doesn’t mean you need to get all Scarface hang a man from a helicopter on him:



As you can imagine, this is my favorite drug related murder in any drug film. I mean, besides the fact a helicopter is used to murder a rat… The helicopter is the damn star. I could go on for days. Watch Scarface. Just do it.

First date is with the Breakdancing Hoser (she’s Canadian). Jimmy makes it seem like they’re going somewhere pretty swanky, bottles, basically all the lyrics to Like A G6, only instead they go to Costco. They have a ridiculous shopping list and have to buy all the stuff.

Many times on this date, there were lines about this being “normal” – doing the things a real couple would do like Costco or BBQing. The thing is, nothing about this Costco trip was like one my wife and I might go on. For one, when we go to Costco, we buy nothing but paper towels and toilet paper. When we go to the checkout counter, which is as chaotically crowded as most religious tourist spots in Israel, the cashier looks at our bricks and bricks of toilet paper and wonders if all we do is eat beans and drink hard alcohol. I mean, no one should need to wipe their ass as much as it seems like we’re going to. Teens talk about the embarrassment of buying condoms at the drugstore. Are you kidding? I was dancing up and down the aisles when I bought them, I looked really cool (and responsible).

There is no shame like seeing your next 2,000 stomach aches depicted in the form of palettes of TP. You go to check out and you feel like the cashier is sizing up how your ass contributes to this:


The other thing that was a real departure was when they got in the awesome blow up hamster ball and rolled down an aisle. How many companies of militia were needed to clear out the hordes of old folks looking for samples of protein bars and microwave pizza for them to inflate a giant ball and roll it down an aisle. I literally feel like I’m trying to cross the 101 on foot when I walk around there.

Also, how scarred are those kids that pushed them. I’d have been so tempted to be like HEY KIDS THIS IS HOW BABIES ARE MADE. I really should have gone on this show.

Later they go back to barbecue and Kimmel is there being pretty awesome. He asks about the fantasy suites and being Canadian, the Hoser pretty much says it’s cool he can take some people on a test drive. I respected her for understanding the game. Not for being okay with it. Either way, she was quickly flying up my list for that reason and the fact she can get away with that kind of midriff. O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

We definitely realize here that Chris laughs like a sorority girl being tickled by a boy she likes. Forget Time Is A Fat Circle. He’s now called Gigglepuss. BELIEVE IT™.

When they get in the hot tub (before Kimmel shows up to eat ribs), they start making out and the truth about Canada comes out. She is not an aggressive kisser. She talks a big game, but she is definitely not a face-sucking awkward mess. This seems to substantiate that she’s been the BEST FRIEND™ a lot and cleaned up on a lot of TRANSITIONAL TRYSTS™. What I mean is, she’s adjacent to a lot of her friends’ relationships and they confide in her and when they break up, she gets a quick TRANSITIONAL TRYST™, but then he finds another HOT TICKET™ and moves on. She’s a Katherine Heigl film, back when they made those.

I like her strategy and I bet, despite her devil-may-care attitude, that she’s a catch. She’s trying too hard to prove she’s not great. I like her.



The group date is great, save one big time issue: MESA VERDE is there and we get nothing, barely even a creepy stare from her. She even did her hair and didn’t crawl on the ground chasing cats. She had so many opportunities to terrorize animals, I felt let down.

Anyway, this date is American Ninja x Farmville. Much like hot tubs and helicopters, girls milking animals is becoming a motif on this show and you didn’t need to go to the best film school on earth (I did, NON-HUMBLEBRAG™) to catch what that is about. And if you didn’t, Kimmel mentioned there was one boy goat they had to milk. HJs. We’re talking about HJs. Also someone said something about “warm and salty” and “in my mouth” and at that point I was wondering how many US dollars it took the producer to just force that sound bite. Whatever, grateful. #blessed

In this race to shovel shit, crack eggs, milk a goat and chug and to shuck corn, the real news was not Carly going balls out to win. The real news was that Jillian finally earned her lasting nickname. I dub her FLIGHT RECORDER, you know, because of the Black Box they had to put over her butt the entire time. Presumably because she wears TOO-SMALL™ sizes, but after BUTT PEACH FUZZ™ talk from last week, basically who knows what’s going on there. But a producer doesn’t like her she lives with a superimposed black miniskirt the entire show.

It was epic when she leaped over the fence. For every reason from Plato to Voltaire. It was the Sistine Chapel of black box leaps into pig pens. Venus di Milo and Otis.

Carly wins, she gets a blue ribbon and an American Gothic photo shoot with Gigglepuss. I know all of us at home felt we missed out.

The cocktail party is another makeout fest, which makes sense as Gigglepuss only has access to women he’s related to in Iowa. He’s making up for lost time and laughing like a girl. He also only holds a woman’s hands directly over their crotch. Real talk.

MOTHER OF KALE has a mild aneurysm and blacks out. She basically asks Gigglepuss why he makes out with other girls, but asks as if she just noticed this. What does she do all night at these cocktail parties? Does she just look at salads and debate which vegetable she’ll name her next kid after? Spinach and Artichoke Dip is my vote. My guess is where she’s from, that’s considered a vegetable.

Becca gets a rose and now I need to figure out who the hell she is. THANKS.

Second date is with the fertility nurse who talks like a baby. Fertility. Kids movies. Fern Gully. I dub thee FERT GULLY. They go to Saddlerock in Malibu, mere miles from where I went to high school. Fairly sure my cousin was married there. This is a nice spot and there’s a mountain that looks like a cat which brought me tons of joys every time I drop DURING CLASS AFTER SCHOOL to the beach.

She decides that we’re going to crash a wedding and despite how much we are meant to think this is spontaneous, it is not. I do appreciate them shooting the wedding all shady from bushes, even if everyone knew.

I don’t know if Gigglepuss is just someone who falls in love at weddings or when drunk, both which are LOVE HEROIN™, but he seemed like he dug FERT GULLY, especially when he dropped the uber subtle clue about “seeing himself marrying her.” So there’s that. Garden State. The Shins.

Instead of a cocktail party, we opted for an all day pool party. Of course, this is useful for two reasons. The first is obvious. Day drinking in the hot sun makes for a drunker rose ceremony. But the second reason I am proud to have figured out. It’s definitely the way they get girls in bathing suits to cry so that in the COMING UP THIS SEASON ON THE BACHELOR MONTAGE in episode one, there’s the potential that any of the girls could have made it to a tropical vacation trip, or better, the fantasy suites. They are getting smarter. Clever girl.



Kartrashian is a hot mess the entire time, alternating between crying and laughing in rapid succession and then kissing like a virgin, meaning, she like stands, awkwardly almost yanks Gigglepuss off a roof, all kinds of rookie mistakes. Sexy isn’t dying after rolling down a Spanish tiled roof to your doom. It ain’t belly rings either (not since the oughties).

Juelia (spelling?) decides she is going to pick a pool party as the right place to tell the world’s most horrible story about her dead husband threatening to kill himself when they just had a newborn and then actually doing that. Chris handles it well, but definitely regretted THE LAST MARGARITA™.

Bratzny grabs a make out and then Jade (who is a Playmate, FYI) cuddles him in bed in her stilettos, which I’m sure all of you do at home, yeah? GIRLS. So predictable. I mean, if I had a dollar for everytime a secret playmate wanted to cuddle in bed I’d have more dollars than the AMAZING JAR™ or at least more than Jade has after her first feature dance at Spearmint Rhino.

There’s a weird hot tub situation with Flight Recorder, who literally won’t leave. She’s like in old war movies when the archers are gonna shoot and the captain keeps being like HOOOOOLD. Only she never fired. She just sat there with presumably the lion’s share of her ass hanging out.

Rose ceremony, three folks we barely knew are gone. One, the teacher I think, seemed great. Lucky her to be gone. Also, three weeks in, we are basically an all white cast again. Do better, guys. This is crazy.

That said, loved this week and last. I’m all in for this season. Share this around and follow me below so we can cuddle. I’ll wear my stilettos.






Filed under Uncategorized

BachCap: Dropping the Deuce

Well, I’m late. I guess I’m pregnant with a blog post.

Actually, I’m in Atlanta for work and that’s great because I am so damn close to the burning wreckage that is Andi’s life. It’s fun to be so close to a prediction I made. That said, I gave them six months. Josh and her made it less than six days.

Whatever, let’s get unpreggers. BACHCAP: ENGAGE.

We start with a scene from last week, a brunette with the kind of GUMPTION™ Eli Wallach said Kate Winslet had in The Holiday, or as it’s often called HOLIDAY WOMAN CRACK™. Gumption. She took Chris out side and said, “It’s light out, I haven’t slept in over 34 hours and 2 bottles of Kim Crawford and we never even talked so if you send me home I’m crying. In broad daylight. On TV.”

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For a farmer to ignore this request, well, it would be like killing a prized cow, not unlike the cow from Into The Woods, minus the music, plus Chris Harrison. For the record, she’s a pretty girl. I just like making references to Sondheim musicals because I am super postmodern and I keep my wife happy. Plus, he’s a farmer. So like, cows.

She gets a reprieve and when she comes back in, one girl says “I feel like this is a slow clap” proving she doesn’t understand what a slow clap is. It’s a positive. Oh man. Has society fallen this far? This means she hasn’t seen Rudy, which means she won’t succeed in marrying a guy in the midwest. Also, if you haven’t seen Rudy, but can name all the Kardashians (I mean all of them), you will die alone. So Netflix that sniz. (Also, same girl said she’s “more Kardashian than country” – so yeah. Also, Kardashian and Country is barely alliteration, read a book).


Side note, pre roll ad for The Boy Next Door with JLo… It’s about sleeping with a young dude who then stalks her and she has to kill him or something. Is she a praying mantis? Are all her movies about being duped by a dude and then killing him? What did Ben Affleck do? Does this relate to Gone Girl? I love lamp?

Okay, I’m back.

Chris Harrison, on a wild Molly and ecstasy bender, demanded a collision montage where Chris was in an awkward outdoor shower at the same time that he explained the Bachelor was living in a Moroccan sex den just down the driveway from the Bach Mansion. If you aren’t into subtly, Harrison kept saying, “HE’S DOWN THERE, RIGHT NOW, NAKED, OUTSIDE and YOU NEED TIME WITH HIM. I’m not saying go down there, but if you did, he’s showering outside. It’s just like showering inside, but you don’t have to ring the doorbell to get in with him. Some people are birdwatchers. You guys can walk right outside, take shots of tequila, and look at him shower. So, don’t abuse that, yeah?”

What a pimp. Not slang, I mean, like, actually. What a man who contracts other people out for sex.

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First date is at some weird roof pool I’m pretty sure I used to drink across the street from. The girl who almost got kicked off has a nice meet/cute, and then is totally respected by the producers when she gives and interview on the street in a bikini with pool hair. DIGNITY™.

Don’t worry, they made everyone walk half naked down Fig in DTLA. I’ve done it. So what. Go Trojans!

Some girls went to sneak into Chris’ house and said it was gonna be an everyday habit. I think one of them banged their head or something, I don’t know, I was pouring a drink. I’m sure we’ll revisit it later. Or not.

Just when I was enjoying the ridiculousness of girls being convinced that racing tractors in the city in their bikinis was somehow a test of love, we get to know Juelia (spelling?) who goes on to explain her daughter’s father died. By killing himself. This show sometimes is the equivalent of switching between cocaine and codeine on repeat. DUMB HAPPY™ and HYPER BUMMED™ on a loop.



Really. Why.

Back to NAKED TRACTORS™. Seriously.

Kartrashian wins the race and gets some precious alone time, but it doesn’t matter. Chris gives the night date to Mother of Kale, who looks as shocked as I was that she got it. Then all the girls get really insecure and walk around abandoned streets, but without zombies or anything post-apocalyptic, which felt like a miss. Like in 28 Days Later (which is a great hashtag for this show because every couple formed on the Bachelor breaks up… 28 Days Later).


While Kartrashian played armchair psychologist about the night date, Mother of Kale was pulling off miracles on her date. She managed to tell Chris he had a big nose, discuss aliens (in a serious, off-putting way) and tell him she has a son (named after a vegetable) and still get a rose.

All of this while making every sentence sound something in between a guess and a question.

Takeaway, having a child buys you a week. If you adopt like ten kids and reveal them weekly at cocktail parties, you probably at least hit the fantasy suites. Just my gut.

Megan got a date card which she didn’t know was a date card, which is a good thing, because living on a farm won’t be an issue. If you are easily confused, you probably don’t care where you are. No one can be sure she’ll even know she’s on a farm, in Iowa or even on earth at all. Mother of Kale is like, did some say aliens? Do they have hot noses?

Megan’s first date started with a limo and when she saw a plane, she held his hand and pushed it into her chest, a pro move. I felt the same way seeing an airplane. But then…


I would pick on Megan for saying things like butterflies are smiling in her stomach (they don’t have teeth), but I was too busy freaking out that there was a helicopter already in week two and guess what?


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I was screaming “we did it Miyagi” and crying in my hotel room. This is why I play this game.

And then Chris Harrison, for the second time tonight, orchestrated a death story.

Megan’s dad died just weeks before going on the show. Despite whatever quaaludes she was on in her brown blanket at the mansion when she didn’t understand the date card, she seems pretty nice and they seem pretty happy. Pretty sure you can wear big blankets on farms in Iowa. Got my eye on her.

She gets the rose. Duh.

When the new group date is “death themed” – like the rest of this episode – one girl says “death is zero percent sexy.” But truth is, I know she digs every guy on Walking Dead. Stop pretending. If Chris Pine played a dead person, she’d be like “death is like 110% sexy.”

Then they go in a limo to a creepy set and zombies attack the limo, presumably not the reanimated zombies of any of the deaths described earlier in the show. Ups and downs on this show. Death is sad. Death is funny. WE’RE IN THE MOVIE SEVEN AND CHRIS HARRISON IS GONNA SHOW US WHAT’S IN THE BOX.

I hate this. Also, was the empty downtown LA walk a foreshadow? I was thinking, where are the zombies and now… ZOMBIES!

The scariest part was they drank Fireball to calm down. Whiskey is supposed to taste like whiskey. Whiskey is not a flavor that needs improving. If you drank the Fireball and did it before you blacked out, you don’t get a rose.

Zombie Date ensues. We’re taking paintball guns and killing zombies and finding the beacon. It’s Call of Douchey. Highlight? Ashley goes nuts and earns the name FULL METAL WHACKIT. Everyone is having fun, but she’s hammered on Lexipro and Fireball and threatening to shoot everyone.


At one point, she just freakishly takes a serene walk through the zombies and then starts shooting the ones already pretending to be dead. To be clear, these are just actors on the ground and she just starts capping them. It was terrifying. Imagine actually shooting downed humans on a battlefield. She was like that “horror of war” scene from every Vietnam film ever.

And then says she feels like she’s in the MESA VERDE™.


I was only there once (or twice) in college and I regretted going there. It takes days to recover from a trip to MESA VERDE™. It’s hell, okay? You need an iron mind and stomach.  You need to be able to say goodbye to normal life and relationships. One does not simply go to MESA VERDE™.

Right? Pound it. £££

It kept getting weirder. She said the rose might go to an angel. She said a lot of different things and crawled around looking for cats. Honestly, I believe she had a drug interaction. There’s no commentary I could make that would be funnier or more disturbing than watching it. One of the most memorable segments ever. Period. History. This is a banner episode.

Chris is even a good guy, sort of.

He gives Caitlin the rose, who seems like she’s SECRETLY SHY™ by the way she fronts a big game and is a very reserved kisser (and someone who moves to Germany for a man, or nah, bruh).

Bratzny didn’t like it. She even said she had “mixed emotions” about it. Then said she was in a bad mood. Which isn’t mixed. Actresses need scripts, I guess.

Oh yeah! Jordan, back at the mansion, talked about Jillian (HGH) and then said she had a hairy ass. Not kidding. Peach fuzz. Then she twerked. Slowly because booze. Again, banner episode. It almost doesn’t need me.


Kartrashian goes on to tell Mother of Kale that she is a virgin and while that was interesting, what was more interesting was Mother of Kale’s reaction, which was so odd, for a mother especially. She felt like it was great leverage because dudes like taking girls’ virginities. I’m glad Kale is a boy. PARENTING™.

Kartrashian goes off and then does a really weird belly ring make a wish thing that made me super uncomfortable, but I did enjoy that Chris is farming kisses like crops. He’s the biggest kiss collector since Ben.

Jordan was drunk some more. This episode had everything.

Bratzny freaked out a little bit because Chris is kissing everyone.

Then, the highlight was the rose ceremony, when Jillian went to take Juelia’s (spelling?) rose and then took out half the carpet on the way, chasing this awkward move with an awkward laugh. Basically the world’s worst charcuterie pairing. I dub her Zoolander (come on, the scene where he accepts Hansel’s award?)

In the end, he drops a lot of girls, but he keeps FULL METAL WHACKIT in proof the producers will do anything to keep it good. And why shouldn’t they. This episode was amazing. Pure gold. This girl literally sounded like an extra from True Detective. She’s talking about Carcosa and black stars and the Yellow King. She’s straight cold buggin’ and we might as well get another week of her.


See you in MESA VERDE™.






Filed under Bachelor/Bachelorette

BachCap One – Farm to Cable

Sitting down to write this, I have the feeling I have seen described by lots of mommy/fashion/yoga/food/whatever bloggers on Twitter. I feel like I am about to eat a box of unnecessary pastries that I don’t even want that will probably make me sick but I’m doing it anyway because the praise I get on the internet makes it okay.


That’s where we’re at. Happy 2015.

Before I get started, I’m giving a few caveats for the season. I may not post every week, but I plan to try. Fact is, I’m not a scrappy young producer at an ad agency anymore. I’m reaching in-barrel maturation and lots of people need this bourbon. I have a Super Bowl ad campaign to help land. I have to go to Spain and eat all the jamón. Basically, I’m on planes. A lot. And I won’t always write.

I will always tell you. On Twitter. So follow me. HERE. I’ll tell you everything.

OK. Let’s do this damn thing. But promise me one thing…




I’m not going to spend a lot of time covering the “live” element of this premiere, because it was so up-its-own-ass that I felt like I was watching a colonoscopy. I guess it was nice to see a ton of pseudo celebrities still have enough time to get on airplanes, fly to the world’s fakest red carpet, dress really poorly and search for meaning amongst people who still have enough time to wait in line to see pseudo celebrities you could easily see by going to [insert worst bar ever] in [insert city].

Andi’s basic bro fiance is definitely not ready to commit to planning a wedding because life is hard when you are NOT A DISTRICT ATTORNEY™, but he is ready to try the cake and food because “you know he can eat” – even though he cannot wear a tie. America, if you are built like a brick, don’t wear a skinny tie. I know James McAvoy wore it well on the cover of GQ and you are basic, but he is 5’4″ and 123 pounds. When this meat bucket wears it, it looks like a half-drained river running through the vast tundra.

Breakup in less than 6 months.

Grown Sexy wore the world’s most ridiculous shawl, it looked like those awful clear umbrellas and the most depressing part was she loved it so much she wouldn’t take it off. Actually, the worst part was that she said her and Sean are “practicing” having kids. No. The worst part was his goatee, comb-over haircut combo. No. The worst is that these people still exist and that people still care. Tim Tebow is the only fake born-again virgin I can deal with, only because the sports media tears him apart. Why am I the only person wishing Sean and Grown Sexy would just go away. Forever.



The red carpet was totally just a big step-and-repeat in a parking lot in Burbank. They weren’t going into an award show. There was no paparazzi. This was a glorified cocktail party at 3pm in the valley on a weekday. That people got dressed up for so they could be on TV again and stand in front of the most desperate form of fan, those that would commit time and resources to attending a red carpet of former Bachelor contestants.

Chris Harrison was wildly snarky, because he is finally blooming out of his cocoon. Soon, the blood bath will begin and Grown Sexy and Sean will wish they weren’t so eager to show up anytime anyone from the show calls them. It’s our fault. We allow them to give relationship advice despite one of them saying “grown sexy” and wearing an outdoor clothing item inside because she thinks it looks good (it doesn’t) and the other who can say with a straight face he was a BORN-AGAIN VIRGIN™. What is the ceremony that makes you such a thing? I just ate too much and wish I didn’t. BORN AGAIN DINNER™. Who wants froyo?



Time is a Fat Circle (Fat McConnaughy) returns and despite getting the worst ratings of any Bachelor premier (maybe it was that whack ass red carpet wax museum), I love this guy. Driving around his town, you actually understand for the first time why a human being actually would be on this show. In a town of like 400 people, how many of them are actually options to date? If you literally know zero women and live on a massive farm in a landlocked midwestern state, you have two options.

The first is this:



The second is a deal with the devil:



Chris needs this show and I think he’s actually serious about finding the right woman. He can dress well (he has good tie to suit to shirt ratio) and he’s rich. Make no mistake, this is not a humble farmer. He owns 6000 acres of Iowa. Chris Soules owns LAND™. Land like Tom Cruise almost died to get in Far and Away. That kind of land. Like, he owns a towns-worth of land and it has zero women on it that he isn’t related to, or judging by the live audience members from his hometown, aren’t obese.

He is here FOR THE RIGHT REASONS™. And he trained for it with CodyCode SeanBro fresh off his WORLD’S MOST PREDICTABLE BREAKUP™ with Michelle Money, who at least got a morning news anchor gig out of going on Bachelor in Paradise, which seems like more than anyone else got (beyond an invite to that whack red carpet in a parking lot).

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So, he’s doing his montage of outdoor showering in the newly redecorated Bachelor house (not the mansion). Someone got inspired by Morocco it would seem. Nothing screams corn and soy farmer like a Moroccan tea house.

We got to meet some of the girls and as you know, nicknames not coming out right away. Half these people aren’t people I will ever see again.

There’s Britt who looks like a Bratz doll. She’s also a “waitress” from LA, which means she auditioned for a guest spot on Modern Family and they were like “take it easy, Topanga, are you single?” and sent her on this show.

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Jillian Michaels was pretty intense with her cross fit regime and monster traps. Loved her in Rocky IV though. DRAGOOO!

There was the adorable widow who lives in ATX and told us that her husband just died out of nowhere. I had a hard time drinking the rest of my whiskey in fear my own heart would stop, but don’t worry. I just switched to rum (Ron Zacapa, if you must know).

There was one girl who named her son Kale, so we know the world’s ending. That’s good.

There’s a cute flight attendant, but if the Bachelor can film on a plane, why can’t Don REPORT THE NEWS™ on Newsroom?

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Bratzny definitely hit it off with Chris from the get-go and her act was pretty worthy of her getting the part. She totally rehearsed, but acted naturally. A real Misener kind of gal. No surprise she got the FIRST ROSE™ and sealed her fate of not ever winning this show ever.

I enjoyed Pam Poovey From Archer, who came out of the car in cowboy gear and then snuck back in the limo in a dress, then proceeded to crush a ton of Jameson, almost pass out standing up and then get the rose anyway.



She didn’t even take the taco for craziest this episode. That went to the Onion Hunter, who, well. Hunted onions. And then found a pomegranate instead. But wow. That’s a special kind of drunk where you can be terrifying without being threatening. Like, to date that girl is to know that there is a part of her brain that only vodka can reach that is incapable of functioning as a human. She’s picking flowers and being amazed by psychedelic fake onions. She will kill you in your sleep.

There was a WWE Diva in Training, which just means surgically enhanced female wrestler. She had the gnarliest pink eye ever. But she seemed nice for a woman who fights for a living.

Kaitlyn was kind of fun with her awesome contrast of skin color to eye color, her extra dirty pick up line and then great ensuing recovery (WHO IS SHE™). But she loses points for having matching bird tattoos on her triceps, something shunned even here in Portland, a city that is famous for putting birds on shit (and coffee and the might Portland Timbers).

The secret admirer was very scary, both in her outfit and the fact she opened her eyes so much I thought they might swallow something. She also lives at home with mom and dances ballet. The look in mom’s eyes was that of PLEASE DON’T WEAR YOUR PRINCESS JASMINE COSTUME SO YOU CAN WIFE UP AND MOVE OUT.

Too bad.

Let’s just cut to the ending.

It was light out. It was FULLY DAYTIME™.

When I lived near the mansion in California, I ran into a friend at Brent’s Deli who works on the show. He was coming from a rose ceremony that had gone all night. I know they go late. I’ve seen random LED clocks reading 3:30am. But this was extreme. Usually the limo and walk of shame is in the dark. This was a daytime dismissal.


There was a long ass crying montage. And then I blacked out. See you next week. Click the links below for updates on when I’ll post.






Filed under Uncategorized

Stab the Field and Support Sark

Arrogant Nation, I know I have only posted two or three times this year. I know I’ve been basically limiting myself to Twitter during games and it’s been fun. But the truth is, I only want to write about what matters. That’s what got me to start Arrogant Nation to begin with.

I noticed our fanbase was down about sanctions, a lot of new kids being downright UNTROJAN about football and I tried, with a lot of success, to flip that script. It took writing weekly comedic posts just for us to act like idiots, be fundamentalist football fans and not care too much about what happened.


The thing was, not only did that work, we played better than we should have. In fact, better than anyone who got levied sanctions near ours. Frankly, a lot of people don’t realize that USC has been behind only Stanford and Oregon in wins during the time we have barely fielded 50 scholarship athletes or had no postseason bowl as incentive. Hell, we even won the Pac 12 South once. We hung the worst loss ever on UCLA.

Now, I only feel like writing when I have something to say. Or… When I think there’s something you need to hear. Like now.

Steve Mason already dropped an open letter to the Trojan community and it didn’t go over well. He dropped plenty of facts about the pros and the cons of Sark’s first year, with far more pros than cons. Read it, it’s worth it.

I know this post is going to make people angry, but everyone was angry when I said Coach O was full of it, that he should have just stayed to be the highest paid assistant in the country, but his pride or his desire to be a head coach lead him away. For the record, as I usually am when it comes to “not totally overreacting”, I was right. No one wanted Coach O to be a head coach at a big time school. He was too emotional. And now, he’s trying to open the door to come back. As an assistant. Like he should have stayed to be. When Sark (of #firesark fame) asked him to.

Even flawed Lane Kiffin, who wasn’t as bad as we thought he was, is enjoying his time as OC for the top team in the nation. That doesn’t mean he was who I liked repping our program, not by a long shot. It doesn’t mean I understood his bubble screens (or Norm Chow’s for that matter), but again, our offense was better with Kiffin than it was before him. It’s largely been better with Sark too. We have lots of moments we actually look like the team we want to be. We have moments we do not either.

Of course, we had those moments with Uncle Pete too. A lot of the time here in Oregon. Corvallis. The forest. You remember. Or at Stanford with Harbaugh doing whatever he felt like to our dead, rotting corpse.

Let me get to the point, Arrogant Nation… Too much whining is coming from our fan base.

I think I said it perfectly after Sark led our team to one of the biggest beatings of Notre Dame in our rivalry’s history:

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It’s pretty true. I can’t miss the parallels between my freshman year at USC when Uncle Pete found new ways to lose really close games culminating in a Christmas Day snore-worthy loss to pre-good-pre-bad-again Utah in the all-mighty Insert Sponser Las Vegas Bowl.

Things I remember about that season, our worst in well over a decade including all these so-called awful years under Kiffin and now Sark, was that we showed so many glimpses of explosiveness. Suddenly, I started knowing players names. Wow, that WR is going to be great if he’s ever consistent. Man, why is America not recognizing how good Carson Palmer is. If they were a little older, they’d be great. This system has signs of life.

Like I said, if Twitter existed in 2001 (or Facebook even), we’d have seen deluges of morons calling for Pete Carroll to be fired because we didn’t get it now, now, now.

The reason you liked this blog, the reason I hosted two effing pep rallies, the reason you bought thousands of shirts was because you were buying into one concept.


If we keep being us, eventually, we’ll win. The big wins. The wins that drive everyone crazy. The stay on top forever thing.

Sure, some different coaching decisions (and some of you are going to go to the comments and get into incredible detail I already have heard a billion times and still don’t care about) could have gotten us two wins. Two losses were beat downs. Yeah, 10-2 would feel better than 8-4. The UCLA loss would suck either way. Blah, blah, blah.

Look at how our freshmen played. Look at our quarterback. Look at our recruiting class. Look at what we looked like when we looked good. It looked right.


I want a bowl win. I want a 9 win year heading into next year where depth gets a little better and we’re a year older. And guess what, I am ready to wait for it.

Sark’s team in his first year, outmanned and very young, was almost a 10 win team, but even at 8, he did some things we desperately needed. He ended the Stanford losing streak. Oh man, he cleaned up after Pete Carroll on that one. Who cares how it happened. It happened. Stanford lost to us last year and it might even hurt their recruiting and keep them trending down. You need to win those games to win these wars.

He beat Notre Dame. He beat them bad. In fact, they were as short handed as we were and you saw how bad we beat a winded team. Did that not teach you anything? Wow, did we compete. Tired as hell all year, we won 8 games with like 8 dudes. They did this a week after a horrible loss that killed a ton of incentives. They got up for a game that bad teams can’t get up for. Hell, UCLA couldn’t get up for a home game against Stanford to win the South.

Look at the player development. You worried about Algohlor leaving? Me neither. I mean, I want him to stay, but for the first time in a long time, we developed the hell out of young players.

More proof, who had a better year than Kessler at QB? Next year, with a better O-Line, more seasoned supporting cast members and defenses having to game plan (and maybe more than 2 scholarship RBs), wins may come easier.


Or maybe they won’t.

But #FireSark? Please. I’m #StillSark. I’m willing to go the distance and see it through. I know I don’t want to be fired for a possible 9 win season in my first year with my predecessor’s players. Why should he?

It’s not about this year. It’s about getting ourselves ready for the long run. If we want to be Arrogant Nation, we need to stop whining and start just enjoying the wins and ignoring the rest.

I want to talk about one more thing. Something I was fuming about. Something that made me want to smash my phone against the wall.

If you don’t think the team showed up for UCLA, if you think Sark didn’t show up, let me point out, neither did we.

We didn’t stab the field. We let some deflated Thor looking punk walk-on (WALK ON) stand on their cheeseball logo and protect it from our drum major, who wasn’t going to stab it anyway because [insert excuse].

I’ve heard Haden said we couldn’t. I’ve heard the future of the band depended on it. I’ve heard that some streak of a billion games performed at in a row matters. It doesn’t. What matters is we never, ever take orders from UCLA ever, not even at work even if your boss went there.

I love our band. I felt amazing at the pep rally when I was talking and they’d strike up. They gave me a shirt and despite the fact I’ve sold thousands of t-shirts I designed myself, I wear the band shirt every week. I effing teared up as a high school senior hearing them play and wanting to go to USC so bad I would have torched Westwood to the ground. I still tear up.

I say that because COME ON GUYS. We put streaks, Haden’s thoughts, etc. ahead of the one thing we COULD control: Telling UCLA to eff off.


They deserved to win. They were dictating the game before we even left the tunnel. They told our band what to do, then they pushed us around all day. For some reason, for one day we were all “me, me, me” instead of “FUFUFU”…

This isn’t on our drum major who I love because he is in the band. This isn’t on the band who do more for us than anyone. This is on every single person who reads this or has ever read this for not sending reams of paper to every administrator at USC demanding we fight back. If we can’t have our tradition, UCLA can’t bring their band to the Coliseum either (not that anyone would notice) and then stab the field anyway.

What was so sacred? How on EARTH did we let a team that spray painted ASU’s field dictate anything to us. A team that planted their flag in our 50 yard line the year before.

BaX6otJCcAAEsbn ByauMvICIAIpA3O.0.0

Give me a break.

I don’t care we lost. We’re going to beat them more than we lose to them forever. John McKay said it best in that “there is nothing worse than losing to UCLA and nothing better than beating Notre Dame” – he said that because UCLA sucks, even when they are good. They are the kind of people who choke away big games, ACTUALLY desecrate fields and print billboards proclaiming superiority before taking huge dumps in big games. Always.

Who are we? We’re the team that has tradition and we will uphold it no matter what. When Traveller was going away, we found money. He must ride each Saturday.

Look at how we are when there’s threat of a new alternate uniform. We flip out.


Had we stabbed the field, only good things would have happened. Maybe our streak would have ended and UCLA would have tried to stop us from playing, but then ESPN would be covering that. I fail to get how no one understands that UCLA banning our band due to poking grass with a sword would be the single greatest recruiting tool we ever had.

Could YOU play for a school that sanctioned a band? Every outlet on earth would have made fun of UCLA. They would have brought up the fact UCLA desecrated ASU’s field. They would have made so many points we didn’t have to, except in national publications.

The great joy of this blog at its height was that I gonzo’d myself into a story I wouldn’t normally be a part of. A film student turned ad man hosting pep rallies and getting millions of reads.

This issue is YOUR CHANCE to hurt UCLA in a way only they would even expose themselves to. Only UCLA could be this myopic to leave their most vulnerable weakness so exposed: the are they kind of tools that sanction marching bands.

Please, let us not be the kinds of tools that allow them to.

I let you down not leading the charge. Pledge your support in the comments. It’s up to Sark to win the games, but it’s up to you to win the rivalry.

This is where I stand on the issue. Until we start acting like Trojans, I’m not blaming the players, the coaches or anyone else for not playing like Trojans. If we’re stabbing the field and two years later, Sark is losing games left and right, if we truly gave him a shot and it fails, I’ll be the first to say it’s time.

But we gave Kiffin some time. Let’s give Sark some. In the meantime, let’s get our own house in order Arrogant Nation.

Cheers to the bowl game and hoping it’s a swift, violent two years until we make this right.






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USC v UCLA – A Smack Talk Suggestion

I’ve been quiet this season. Too quiet? Nah. I drank 50 bourbons and now have a plaque on a wall at a local bar for said feat.

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I’ve been hustling at the office making ads that don’t make you want to break your television.

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I’ve been making apple pie bourbon and lots of pork for dinner.

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I’ve gotten my FIFA game strong. I’ve been a soccer hooligan with Timbers Army.

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I’ve spent some time watching sunsets while drinking in an infinity pool. (kept my phone dry)

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I’ve stocked and restocked my home bar over and over and even put it near a palm-like tree to remind me of home.

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But in the end, it’s UCLA week and as I stare at the endless stream of back and forth between our fans and their seasonal, twice a decade enthusiasts, I had to jump back in and put things in order.

Do me a favor. Don’t engage with them. You know how they say to not move if you see a bear in the forest. Do that. Do the shit out of that because talking to a Bruin about football is like arguing about Michelin rated restaurants with a person who lost their tongue from cigarettes.

They have bad taste. They have nothing to hang their fluffy, bow-in-the-haired mascot’s head on. They will never understand facts about football and to be honest, their boy-who-stumbled-into-a-movie-theater-mid-movie tactics tend to bring out the “Fundamentalist Trojan” in us and it turns to us exchanging cartoon photos of Trojans sodomizing bears and then them sending pictures of bears sodomizing Trojans and as USC grads, I deeply hope you have better things to do.

All of us do it from time to time, but let’s be honest. We get excited to play Notre Dame. We get excited to beat UCLA. They are our baby rival. They want to talk basketball, but no one wants to talk basketball.

So let’s just make a quick Troy Week assessment of what happens when you engage Bruins and why you might as well just smile at them.

First, they are going to say the OWN USC right now. Two wins in a row after their worst loss in history (50-0) and suddenly, they own us. As I’ve said when I’ve indulged in a little shit talking, if anything, they took a lease out on us that they likely cannot afford.

Owning is the last 15 years we’ve been lining up to play (including their two year lease):

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12 wins to their 3. Scoring 2x as much. Gaining 2x yards. Sitting on their QB’s head 2x as much. Since I was taking driving lessons, enjoying all dating from first to marriage, raising the money for and then buying a home, selling it and then moving to another state and then buying another home… Basically, for fifteen years, it’s been one way (until the lease).

Until the lease, UCLA literally made t-shirts about a 13-9 win over USC that prevented Troy from going to the National Title. Printed a t-shirt. It was that big a deal just to win (even though a month later we won one of like 5 Rose Bowls that decade in their stadium). Our punishment was a Rose Bowl win, something our whole conference covets so much you almost want to donate a couple of our dozens of them.

But if you bring up this decade, you get “The Cheating Discussion” – which of course is the line of unstudied discourse about what specifically USC was sanctioned for.

I made a video about it years ago and realized there was no point to bring any of it up, nor is there a point to bringing up the handicapped spaces the last really good UCLA team parked in illegally. One dude and his family taking money (and a lot of it) from a ex-con in San Diego completely unaffiliated with USC or athletes forcing handicapped people to park far away from businesses. Forensics, Ethics and Reading Comprehension – not taught at UCLA. Even as I type this, a moron from their school who is reading this for some reason unbeknownst to me is about to post something like this:

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Sigh. Murderers is used a lot even though they are citing one person. If that’s the game, here’s a Bruin football player who did the same, well, arguably even more insidious:

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Once a promising football player with the UCLA Bruins and the Los Angeles Rams, Darryl Henley found himself in a heap of legal trouble starting in 1995. Henley was convicted of drug trafficking and sentenced to 20 years in prison. He apparently was not too pleased with that verdict, as he allegedly hired a hitman to take out the judge and a key witness on the case. That earned him another 21 years to his sentence.

But the thing is, murder is sad and doesn’t have to do with UCLA or USC. It’s just a dumb argument. Neil Armstrong went to USC. USC doesn’t own the moon now. Alumni are cool. Some are embarrassing. Like the ones who invoke homicides for the purpose of football.

Some alumni from UCLA happen to be the lawyer who defended OJ Simpson. Just saying.

Liars, yeah. Josh Shaw was an idiot. He’d tell you that. He committed no crime. Served a ten-game suspension. Hurt his draft stock. We good? Play ball.

Cheaters? Again, please watch this video I made.

Next, don’t post crap like this…

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Beyond how embarrassing this boast is, beyond how lame “SUC” is as a hatful moniker, why so homophobic and if so homophobic, why make that point via a Trojan on his knees, crotch-level in front of a Bruin. WHY NOT FIND A PICTURE OF TWO TROJANS? I’m a modern man. I don’t care who is crotch-level with who, but I don’t get the desire to constantly use male-on-male sex or male-on-male beastiality to get fired up for a football game. Those people need help.

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I enjoyed this. Here’s a taunt that at least tries to be clever. Unfortunately, the product on the left is an actual product from UCLA. So whatever we think we are getting, we can actually get the Bruin plush doll on the left at the UCLA Bookstore, right behind the bruin statue USC graffiti canvas.

Let’s wrap this up.

When UCLA is hyped up, ranked well and respected, they flop. Like a fish. Every time. All the time. All day. Every day. Instead of trying to tell them we’re better, just prop them up. Troll them. Tell them how great they are. They are so good, I’m scared to play them.

Look, when we were winning 12 of the last 15, we weren’t reminding them we were the best team on Earth. They knew because ALL THE MEDIA™. They are only talking because they know we know they “underachieved” and in the end, are the same basketball school no one cares about.

Just tell them they are great.

If you MUST compete with these people this week, do it for a good cause. Like this one:

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Enjoy the game this weekend. I’ll be watching it with a bottle of bourbon and an Arturo Fuente Work of Art on an island just east of Seattle, with friends that did not go to USC, but through knowing the Bearfighter, see why we are the only reasonable choice. Even the Ducks up here know. What USC is in an up year or down year is a champion. History matters.

Which is why I’d be thrilled to cancel their short lease this weekend. If not, I’m sure it will end next year with no Rose Bowls or National Titles to their largely-irrelevant name.

Happy hunting, Arrogant Nation. FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER already. Been tweeting all year.





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Well That Sh*t Was Fun

I was down in Los Angeles for the weekend, you totally could feel that, amirite? It was strange. Everything was in its right place.


I was at breakfast eating a lot of ham and eggs and mainlining some coffee than was infinitely worse than it is in Portland (sorry, Southland, they got that part right up there) and I was swiveling my head around to watch the UCLA game. I couldn’t take my eyes of the screen.

A cool alum-bro was sitting there in his Trojan shirt staring at me like I was a UCLA fan and giving me the smug look I’ve given a thousand Bruin fans who publicly admit they root for UCLA. I had to throw him a victory V before he realized I was just enjoying watching the vaunted #7 Bruins play some awful, awful football.

It was easy to pick on Hundley with all of his Heisman hype, but the truth is, he had very little to do with how awful the much over-hyped Bruin squad looked. I mean, one could critique him for not checking down enough, for being one-dimensional the moment his first option was gone, but that’d be unfair. One of the two Achilles’ heels of this team was glaring.

Their O-Line is awful.

They were getting worked by a Virginia Cavaliers (yes, Virginia Cavaliers) D-Line that is slower, smaller and weaker than probably any set in the Pac-12. They had Hundley contained save one long scramble. They didn’t fly off the edges, they just leaked through the holes in the porous UCLA line. They didn’t have to do much. They were in the backfield keeping Hundley largely in one spot, unable to scramble or check-down. They were sitting on Bruin running backs heads.

Which brings me to the second Achilles’ heel. UCLA’s skill positions are slow. I don’t mean that as a hater. I mean that as someone who just recognized that the #7 team in America could not get their wideouts open against a defense that’s not exactly sending ten dudes to the NFL.

Their RBs were getting stuffed in the backfield. They couldn’t get to the edge. It was crazy.

In the end, I saw two factions of Bruin fans after the game. Those that understand that maybe they O-Line can be coached up, but as they say, you can’t teach speed and their skill positions looked flat. And slow.

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The other fans said “good teams find ways to win” and “the defense scored three times” and both are true, but let’s be real. Their first QB got benched because he was throwing TO the Bruin defense. In a game the Cavs came into thinking no chance they compete, they benched their QB. Worse, the backup brought them back into the game. So the pick-6s were good, but it wasn’t exactly making an athletic play to snag one from Mariota from the hands of a guy wiht 4.3 speed. This was “oh, there’s the ball and oh, the Cavs are so weak there’s no one to stop me, oh thank god.”

Mazzone looks like a bad hire. Their recruiting classes look devoid of speed. When USC would get in close games with really, really mediocre teams. I knew we were heading for some losses. I’m sure they feel that way. Don’t really care.

Here’s why…


We looked awesome. We looked like I think I look when I am drunk standing in the mirror in a tailored suit. We can say it was against Fresno State, and it was, but Fresno State would be favored against more than the Virginia Cavs. They’d be favored against Colorado. Maybe Utah. They weren’t a garbage team. They were just not a great team.

But when you play a not great team (or a garbage team like the Cavs), you want to run the most plays in the history of the Pac-12 (which is totally mind boggling with Oregon and the amount of spread O played out west). You want to drop a billion points. You want your freshman to exhibit burning, elite speed and the ability to catch the ball in traffic (against a probable first round draft pick at CB). You want your freshman tight end to smoke a safety and leap a wall after scoring.

You want to score the most points your program has since 2005 when your team was the worst team in the NFC West basically.

It’s EASY and sometimes dangerous to make too many assumptions on the first game. UCLA won’t be THAT bad all  year (although my 5 loss projection feels pretty good right now based on their tough schedule, slow skill positions and Swiss cheesy O-Line). We won’t be hanging points like that on elite defenses either.


Any time you do “the most of something” since “when you were good” it’s a good thing. Any time you show you have updated your offense and you out-Oregon, Oregon. That’s good.

Over 700 yards. Something like 37 first downs. Name it, we had it. And, wow. The freshmen. To every Washington fan that came here talking about their talent, etc. Sark + USC = people like Adoree Jackson and Juju Smith. Toa and Mama. Beasts of the SoCal Wild. 


It’s scary in a way. Oregon runs less plays, they score faster. What I dug about our performance and our offense is that Sark explained it well. It’s just uptempo pro set with slight mods. It’s not the gimmicky get to the edge game Oregon plays until they meet a team big enough to dominate the clock (Stanford) or fast enough to take away the edges (SEC).

We just got the ball to a million people in a million places from the flats to the middle to deep on the edges. There was no area we didn’t drop the ball. Kessler had shades of Leinart, lobbing balls where our guys could get them, playing conductor to a symphony of speedy options.

It didn’t suck to watch.

I said earlier in the day all I wanted was some vibes that we’re going to get back to having fun, get back to scoring and enjoying it. Even with our penalties, we looked disciplined. It looked good.

Stanford might be a tough one, but I am excited to see it roll out. This is why Arrogant Nation was there during sanctions. In a week of adversity, the media doing anything they could to blow things out of proportion, a RB who couldn’t crack the starting lineup making awful accusations, we just came out and dropped points.

UCLA got it’s ass kissed and that apparently distracted them enough to be the ugliest win of the “big boys” on Saturday.

It would seem that this clown college might be good at eliciting smiles this season.

See you in the endzone.

*dictated but not proofread. ever.





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And Our Hibernation Ends Again

Enjoy this moment, Troy. Really. Enjoy it. Stick around, I’ll remind you why.

As a freshman some terrifying 13 years ago (fuuuck), I remember going 6-6 and losing by a total of less than 30 points. I remember thinking we might be good. That we might have some good years.

I remember my sophomore year meeting Pete Carroll on the Row. I asked him how we looked. He sounded the same way he sounded when he won the Super Bowl. Like Uncle Pete. I remember thinking that I’d love to play for a guy like that. I remember wondering if he was right.

I remember taking a piss at the Orange Bowl after Iowa ran back the kickoff for a touchdown. I remember the overweight Iowa fan who made some mention of So Cal plus some vaguely homophobic slur. I remember telling him to meet me at half-time because it was going to get pretty shitty. Storm’s coming, homeboy.

I remember by the time I was back at my seat, we were figuring out new ways to embarrass the weak ass Big Ten. The dude never met me back at the bathroom. I assumed he had left early with the rest of the Hawkeyes.

I remember most of my time since then was realizing how bad the Big Ten is, at least where Troy is concerned. Penn State. Whack.

Michigan. Hail to the victors must be a song about us.

Illinois, oh yeah we played you too. Kinda forget for a second. JUICE WILLIAMS!

Ohio State, it was close at the Horseshoe when our quarterback was a freshman. It was embarrassing when you came to visit.

I’m probably forgetting a Big Ten team. Probably because they are mostly forgettable teams.

I remember spanking top ranked Auburn on the road. I remember spanking Oklahoma. I remember spanking Arkansas worse than any team every spanked them in their stadium a year after spanking them harder than any team ever spanked them in history. I remember that Arkansas team won their division in the SEC, don’t let them tell you that team with Run DMC was weak.

And then I remember the flood. The deluge of total and utter bullshit around sanctions. The shit we thought wouldn’t stick because the evidence pointed to a hard-to-prove infraction and then suddenly the punishment was indicative of far worse. A seemingly “failure to monitor” type penalty went full blown “lack of institutional control” and we got slapped with a hard backhand.


I remember wondering how the now dead guy from Miami made the ruling and didn’t live to see his school barely wrist-slapped for buying drugs, hookers and abortions for their players.

I also remember all the articles of our demise. I remember that even with four coaches, 30 less players and a nation of haters, we won ten games two times. Most our conference wish they won ten games two times in the last thirty years.

UCLA went 29-24 since we got sanctioned. USC went 35-17. Where was the structure fire? There’s been a few bumps, namely a couple losses to UCLA that in a way are great because it’s been a long time since I gave a shit about playing them. For all their hype, we still put them in a position to take a sloppy seconds trip to the Pac-12 Title Game and after they lost, enjoyed them petitioning the NCAA to give them a bowl berth despite being 6-7 only to lose the bowl game and finish 6-8, the worst team ever to play in a bowl. UCLA is the gift that keeps on giving. Can’t wait to see how they handle the pressure of people not thinking they suck.

I mean, for all the images of Matt Barkley getting knocked out of a game on a blindside sack, I pretty much can’t get past the 50-0 game that happened. A couple wins doesn’t erase that. Just like the John David Booty loss to UCLA was such a point of pride, but history forgets in a month we just came back and won another Rose Bowl in their stadium. Well, it’s kind of our stadium. Our oddly located one.

But let’s talk about what happened here during sanctions, our making lemonade out of lemons and pouring vodka into it. Well, bourbon for me, but you know…

I remember coming into prominence. I remember this stupid blog becoming a t-shirt empire. I remember hosting two pep rallies at Galen. I remember the high fives at the Coli, the shouts of “BEARFIGHTER” and the shots of bourbon offered by fellow Trojans.

They never did sanction the endzone. If a 7-5 record is sanctioning the endzone, Colorado should be excommunicated from having a football team.

In a time where UCLA ran no less than three ads proclaiming we were dead, we dealt them their worst defeat since electric lightbulbs and frankly had a better record then them in each year we were sanctioned or on probation. Sure, they have gotten back into the fray and I am for that.

But let’s keep it realer than a fart in an elevator. If UCLA had gotten sanctioned in the same manner, you think they’d go 35-17? I think they’d have had between 35 and 17 people showing up to watch them lose.

The sanctions are over, but we’ll still be short scholarships for now. And that’s fine. It’s fine because UCLA is getting a brief moment in the sun and using it to unveil new uniforms called “LA Steel.” They are draining the ocean from their basketball gym and they get their shot. They earned it, I guess?

Now we have Sark. That was Pete’s guy. The guy Mike Garrett cock-blocked while he was making things worse with the NCAA (even though they never had a real case and pretty soon those files will be unsealed, FEELS GREAT CAN’T WAIT). He’s upgrading the offense. He’s recruiting like an animal. We don’t have distractions in Kiffin, sanctions or frankly, Coach O. We’re just gonna play football and that’s pretty fun.

We get to enjoy revving up the war machine again. When you are on top for a decade, you let it get stale. You all read this, you all made me a cult figure at my college because it was pretty crazy how hard the NCAA came for us. But, four years later, who would you rather bet on? USC or the NCAA.

Hate to break it to you, but we pretty much won. Yeah, they need to bleed out. Yeah, they need to make changes and call them progress. Whatever. You hit like a toddler, NCAA. You barely bruised the apple.

The NCAA is so soft they literally acknowledge the championship we “gave up.” Why? Because they list co-champs all over their own website and since the AP never took our title away, it never got taken away. The people who took our title away literally acknowledge they were unable to take our title away.


So, here’s what’s going to happen as we climb back to prominence some time in the next five years, as we have in just about every decade since we created football (and don’t say the 1990s were hell, we won a Rose Bowl and that’s more than basically our whole conference has done ever).

We’re going to get our depth back.

There was a time where we’d offer full rides to players we didn’t necessarily want, but our rivals did. Mainly this was just to fuck them over. With no limits on offers again, this has started again. It is a vicious cycle for the Oregons and UCLAs and ASUs and Stanfords. We can offer to players we need less than they do and elite high school guys want to prove they can do it. Deep down, they know who puts the most players in the NFL (facts!) and how little our conference wins anything outside of Troy.

I mean, the last time anyone in our conference won a national title that wasn’t USC was in 1991. I was 9. I had never been to California before.

We’re the only relevant conversation in west coast football and while living in Portland has softened me to the Ducks, it’s also exposed me to the mentality of expecting the wheels to come off. You walk around Portland the day after the Ducks lose, it’s not anger. It’s not shock. It’s a feeling of “I saw this coming” and I had to move here to understand. How depressing is that!

That’s why Arrogant Nation is still better than bacon (kind of). It’s not just that we’re on top the most. It’s the fact we’re good at being on top when we’re there. And everyone knows when we aren’t on top, we’ll just get back there again. It isn’t fair. Blame the NCAA for that. They sure did their best to slow us down for a hot minute to the tune of 35-17. #rough

Enjoy right now.

Enjoy right now because we’re far from back, but we’re only heading that direction again. Anyone who tells you otherwise is ignoring a century-long pattern of taking breaks between winning. This time, our break was a bunch of winning seasons that the world considered failures. 35-17. MUCH LOSSES. SO FAILURE.

We’re almost through it.

Doesn’t matter what happens this year. It’s that we’re going to have a lot of fun soon. I won’t be convinced otherwise and neither will you.

I know how the story ends.

Happy fall returning.

Happy footballing.

Happy ups and downs.

In the end, we’re going to be on top again.


I’m just excited to go for the ride. You guys can be my DD.





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