Death Cab For Coachie

Backaroos... the old coach here just had a really close call. Let me start by saying I'm a new man. I'm gonna eat vegetables, work out, start buying less porn, I'm gonna give to charity, I'm gonna get clean and sober. I'm gonna spend more time with my mom.

Krenz and I were cruisin for pussy in his new PuneTang Cruiser. Those cars look so gay. Needless to say, far from the perfect car for pimpin mad hot bitches. Still, the Tressell likes a challenge. Now, everyone who rolls with me knows that when I'm the car, it's Metalica time. I don't give a fuck whose car it is.

So where was I? Oh yeah, fuckface is trying to mess with the stereo durring that bad assed part of Trapped Under Ice when Hetfield sounds like he's going reach into your grandmother's chest and pull her fuckin' heart out to watch it beat. The best part of the song, right? It get's the ladies wet everytime. So, I started slapping his face, and giving him purple nurples, which I know, is not necessarily a smart thing to do when someones driving, never mind the fact we'd been huffing paint all afternoon. Anyway, he kept bitching about how he wanted to listen to the new Mike Jonze. Which I can understand, because that mushmouth sounds almost as retarded as he does. He really gets all lispy when he get's upset. This one game against Florida, he threw like three interceptions, and he's all like "Suffran Suckataf, Coach. I'm stho sthorry, Whaaaaaaa." What a little bitch. Besides, his shitty stereo has no bass, and we'd just look like a couple of lame-asses trying to be all gangsta. How are we gonna hit on chicks like that? I got a rep to maintain, here. I'm a community leader.

Yeah, so Long story short - all of a sudden there's a fluffy little tabby cat right in the middle of the road. The cutest little guy with big yellow eyes and fuzzy feet. So i slammed on the brakes like and grabbes Krenzie by the back of the head and slammed his mongoloid mellon right into the dash. We could have killed that beatiful, little kitty. I also [accidentally] elbowed him right in his already broken nose. Nobody'g going to make me accidentally hurt a kitten. but the whole time I saw my whole life flash before my eyes: learning to ride a bike, naked fishing trips with Father Malone, my first black eye, playing catch with one of the guys that my mom called my uncle, my first crush, doing the elephant walk at frat parties, killing a man, the cold, cold, chill of necrophilia, crabs, killing the crabs, killing again, the sound of a human skull cracking in a vice, the first time I wore silky panties, speedballs, my wedding night, crabs, national championships...

It was trippier than that time I did peyote with a buch of real live injuns. I really think I need to put things into perspective and do the things I really enjoy. So this week after the big game, Jimmy's gonna have a little time away for himself. I'm going crusin'. So, any of you hot chicks in town with nice cans and a decent crapper, who want to be Entered by the Sandman, come rock out with my cock out. Hop on in and find out who the Master of Puppets is.

It's been a long time since I rock and rolled

Sorry, long time, no post. Coach Jim's been kind of busy lately. Maybe you retards have heard of this little thing called the NCAA football season. Man, work is such a drag. The other night, Krenzel called and he had tickets to go see Bruce Willis and his band, The Accelerators, they were playing a free concert at Easton, right in front of the Cheesecake Factory. But guess who had to go to bed early? I hate it when work interferes with rocking out.

Yeah, so the other day, I was handing out playbooks before practice, and this little red-shirt fuck complains about me mispelling his name. So asked him "Do you know who the fuck I am?" The little red-shirted mongrel's half-assed apology was cut short by the back of my hand. He sarted crying like a baby, so I "pantsed" him. Looks like somebody will be wearing a practice jersey for the rest of the year that says "WHINY LITTLE BITCH".

I have been so busy lately that I berely have had a spare moment to even snap one off! Just the other day, I was in my office with a copy of Seventeen magazine trying to rub one out - and in comes fatass T. J. Downing bitching about his thumb or some shit! I had to pretend that I spilled coffee on my pants and was wiping it with the mag. I don't even drink coffee. If that fat shit says anything to anyone about old Jimbo "roughing up the suspect", I'll plant some gay porn in his locker.

But, hey. I'm never to busy for poems and junk. Here's one I wrote on the shitter yesterday:

The mighty uincorn rules

over mountains and pools

of diamonds for the princess fair

dwarven spun ribbons for her hair


bitches want to rub his horn

but they have much to learn

don't fuck with the unicorn

don't fuck with the unicorn

Recipe for Coach's Chili Corn Muffins

Hey there everybody it's me Tressel. Coach Jim Tressel, that is. I got a recipe for chili corn muffins that is gonna knock your socks off. This makes about 12 muffins, and only takes about an hour and a half. Perfect if you want a little snack for you friends when they come over to watch the Buckeyes.

• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour


• 1/2 cup cornmeal


• 1/4 cup sugar


• 1/4 cup brown sugar, packed


• 3 teaspoons baking powder


• 1/4 teaspoon salt


• 1/2 cup skim milk or soy milk


• 1/4 cup vegetable oil


• 1 large egg, lightly beaten


• 4 ounces green chilies, canned and chopped


• 1 teaspoon of TLC

1. Preheat oven to 400


2. Spray a standard muffin pan with cooking spray.


3. In medium bowl, whisk flour, cornmeal, both sugars, baking powder and salt. In medium bowl, mix remaining ingredients.


4. Make well in dry ingredients.


5. Add milk mixture and stir until just blended.


6. Divide batter among prepared muffin cups.


7. Bake 15 to 20 minutes, or until top springs back when lightly pressed.


8. Let cool in pan 5 minutes, them loosen edges and turn out on rack and cool completely.

WHAAA WHAAAAA I Have Cancer...

Look at this bullshit. I'm going to have to smack the stupid out of my retarded press agent.



Seriously, I'm not Jesus. If i show up at your little cancer party you won't be healed. All these ugly, little cancer kids are really starting to creep me out. I know cancer isn't contagious like herpes (been there done that), but I can't even stand the putrid cancer air that comes out of their bald heads, it's like the grim reaper just blew a burp in my face. Don't forget to smile for the camera Jim, Fuck you! Fuck you cancer kids!

On the other hand some personal appearences aren't too shabby. See these two broads...



...that's right campers, Uncle Jimmy bagged em. Candy from babies, kids. So yeah, I guess this job has it's ups and downs. Speaking of ups and downs, that broad on the left... you guessed it, the carpet matched the cufflinks. Grrrrr, bad kitty!

I need another spring break...

It's a Pitty You Can't Stab Real Hookers

Hey there fellow gamers, it's me, Tressell, Coach Jim Tressel. Welcome back for another installment of Coach's Digital Dungeon. Today I'll be reviewing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.

I used to think Video games were a waste of time and money, machines matching the atrophe of our bodies with the atrophe of our minds. Then I discovered Grand Theft Auto 3, and let's just say I was born again. Needless to say, I was brimming with anticipation for the release of GTA: San Andreas, but low and behold, the X-Box release was delayed until June. But now it's hear, for X-box and by far the best version to date.

This game fucking rocks my socks. I haven't shaved, bathed or taken the time for a bowel movement in two weeks. The other day the wife was bitching and moaning about how we don't "spend any time together" anymore. I says, hey honey, I'd love to ball ya, but this marriage is temporarily on hold for the AWESOMEST VIDEO GAME EVER!!! Why don't you go do my laundry, and sit on the spin cycle if you're lonely for chrissakes.

Yeah, but anyhow, back to the game. So how has this game improved on Vice City, you ask? Well, in addition to an improved array of weapons and vehicles, (bicylces and rocket packs...yeah, you heard me, ROCKET PACKS), the game has several new interactive features, including the ability to change outfits, lose and gain weight, and work out. The game also features an awesome early nineties soundtrack, featuring Guns N' Roses, NWA, P-Funk, and other Alt-Rock/Gangster Rap Mainstays. Not only that but the missions are even more intense and challenging...if you play the missions.

Which I don't. Man the other day I was playing with Craig Krenzel, and I had like five stars, and was blowing up busses and shit with the rocket launcher, all to Ice Cube's It Was a Good Day, and get this...I was in my underwear!!!! Yeah, I know, "big deal, coach, I play video games in my underwear too," but the guy in the game was in his underwear. It fucking blew my mind. Krenzel was pitching a pants tent, he's such a Mo. Then I got run over by a national guard Tank. Krenz always get's the tank cheat, and then drives around in the tank for like two hours, which is fucking boring to watch. I'm like come on Krenz, do something intersting, don't just drive around in the tank. Speaking of Krenzel, and what a fucking lame-ass he is, don't be like him and get the play-station version, the X-box version is way fucking better.

Does anyone happen to know the secret sex cheat for X-Box. Please Advise.

Cats Vs. Dogs

Do you like this picture? It's me and my cat, Bucky. He's the yellow one. The black one is his girlfriend, Toodles. Isn't it cute when kitties are in love? I love my Bucky. He's so soft and cuddly. When I've had a rough day at work the first thing I do is take off my sweater vest. The second thing I do is scoop big ole bucky up in my arms, and plop down on the couch, and he tells me about his day, and I tell him about mine, and everything's all better. I hope Bucky and Toodles have lots of cute little Kitties.

Bucky's better than mean ole Waffle's. That's my wife's dog. Sometimes when I feed Bucky a treat, Waffles get's jealous and starts barking. Sometimes he'll chase Bucky up a tree. If he's not careful, someone might put something in his dish...he betteer not hurt my Bucky. If anyone hurt my Bucky I don't know what I'd do. Probably something horrible. Let me tell you why I think Cats are better than dogs. First of all, dogs eat their own poop. It's true, waffles does it all the time. Second, cats are cleaner. When a cat licks itself it's taking a bath, when a dog licks itself it's moral depravity. Ohhh that Waffles, he's going to burn in doggy hell.

Sometimes I like to make hats for bucky. I make them out of paper.

I love Bucky he's such a good Kitty. Cat's also know how to keep secrets. Ohhh Bucky's real good at keeping secrets. I tell Bucky everything and he doesn't judge me. Not like that mean ole Waffles. He's always sniffing me, judging me. He's so nosy. He better watch out or he's gonna get himself into trouble.

Bucky's favorite food is tuna. He loves him a tunafish sandwich with the crusts cutoff. Then he takes a little kitty nap and sleeps for hours and hours. Ohhh he looks so cute when he sleeps. I could watch him sleep for hours.

I love my kitty.

Drivin' That Train

Word up, Dogs!
I'm Coach Jimmy Tressel
With a Little confessel
I smoked a huge blunt
Now I'm a big messel

Insane in the membrane
Coach Jimmy's going insane
He didn't even have to use his A-K
I have to say it was a good day

Captain Jim is here once more and I am baked like a cake, friends. Bluuuuuuuuuuueeeeeee twennnnnnnnnnnnnttttty fooooourrrrrrr r r r r. Good thing Ellen keeps lots of snacks around for when Captain Jimbo gets the Mellow Train A-Rollin'.

WHOO WHOO!

So, like I'm watching the the old boob tube just now and like, and I'm thinking Sponge Bob Squares Pants is totally like an underwater post modern Shakespea... hey did you hear that? ...maybe I'm just-there it is again, no wait... fuck. BRB

It's cool. It was just the dirty mexican that mows my expensive lawn. Anyway like I was saying um, did you ever notice that there are no like, huge differences between the buckeye leaf and a cannabis leaf they're way the same, and I totally know that that was no acciden... that that- that's fucking weird man, one minute I'm thinking, and then I'm typing what I'm thinking and then like the same word is right next to the same word and it makes sense and then like there's three that's. too much dude, gotta take another ride on old smokey expess BRB.

I swear to god, man. my cat Bucky is completely staring straight through my friggin' soul right now. I'm going to get up slowly and go crank up some Cypress Hill and smack Ellen around with this totally bitchin' Stoner Boner I've been pulling at since I came back.

RED 69! hut hut hut!

TGIF: Powder Yer Donuts!

JAGERBOMBS ON THE TRESSMEISTER!!!!! Whoooo. Commin' at you live from the Bdubs e-cafe doing a little Friday afternoon speed dating. But, hey no fatties! Ha! Yeah right, who am I kidding? I've been known to do a little hogging from time to time.

Whatever you might hear about me and Big Sheila from Applebee's is a complete fucking lie and I will send out some of my Line-Dawgs to fuck their lying ass up like a car crash.

If I don't shit blood tomorrow then the evening was a waste.

I am gonna fucking party tonight. Football season's coming up and I am way stressed. The other day, the boss was givin me shit about my flip-flops. I won an NCAA championship! I can wear flip flops to work if I fucking feal like it. They're red and gray for Chrissakes. I'm really hungry right now, especially after Two-Js. I'll tell ya, bout five minutes ago, Less Wexner and I were eatin wings, and he's like wahhhh these wings are hot. I was like "Wex, you pussy, these wings are weak! They aren't even hot enough to make my sack sweat." Then I purple nurpled him and he cried little a girl.

Speaking of sacks, I went to the Fairfield County Fair last night. Have you ever seen a goat's balls when it's 80 degrees out. I mean hey, I'm over fifty, so my sack has a tendency to lowride, seriously, but those fuckers drag!!!

Man in this heat, you gotta pack some Gold Bond, Coach Jimmy's rule number 1: POWDER YOUR DONUTS! Afterwards, you feel like sweet Jesus himself gave you a kiss smack dab on both your buckeyes! If that's not heaven, give me a one-way ticket to H-E-double hockey sticks any day, but hey, just let me pack my GBP.

I make the whole team powder em' and that's why we're perennial contenders. do you think I'd have made it to so many bowl games if I had to stop every ten seconds to scratch the old spooge wallet?

Look, I'm getting off on a rant, here. I just wasted 20 minutes of happy hour writing this fucker. Besides, there's these two broads givin us the eye from across the bar. One of em's kind of a porker, but I'd stuff the other one. I'll let Lessy Wex have 'er, he's part gay anyhow. Still I'm gonna be balls deep tonight, good thing they're dry.

Butterfly, why can't I?

Hey kids,

Uncle Jimmy's here today to share some more of my prose. It wasn't always easy for me to open up like this. BLUE 45! I found myself face down in the gutter one day, a needle hanging out of my arm, my groin regions pulsing with advanced symptoms of syphylis and trouser crickets - and wiping the dirt from my red sweater vest I said, "Jimbo you can't live like this anymore! You can't hold it all in like this!." After four hours of crying into the arms of a hooker named One Tit Mary I wrote "Will there ever be a Rainbow?" That poem was about rebirth and shit. This mother fucker is about butterflies and healing:


Butterfly, why can't I?

through the sky
oh, oh so high
with your wings
and antennae things
sometimes I pull off your wing
rub it on my ding-a-ling
then I cry,
then I cry,
then I cry,
then I cry,

Butterfly, why can't I?

White People

So...How's Your Girl?, was such an awesome album, so needless to say I, number one hip-hop fan, Coach Jim Tressel, had high expectations for Prince Paul and Dan the Automator's return with Handsome Boy Modeling School's sophomore release, White People. I gotta say, guys, the album seems a little forced. Kind of like going for it on 4th and 2 in the first quarter, but calling a full back dive from the Power-I. They're reaching for the stars but doing it, predictably, and with little innovation from where they left off. In other words, a large portion of the album is safe, bland, and self-indulgent, still it's in a way that only Dan the Automator and Co. can be safe, bland and self-indulgent. Another third is adequate, but what's left is some pretty good hip-hop, some phat beats and trick rhymes as the Tresster likes to put it. An appearance by Tim Medows, The Ladies Man, himself, is true to the playful tone of the first album, but it's not enough to make an album that can stand on it's own. Minus Del tha Funkee Homosapien and Casual, the rappers on White People sound too restrained, too self-aware.

The presense of a sometimes unlikely list of guest stars, from Jamie Column and Daryl Hall to Pharell Wiliams, makes the album an intriguing concept and perhaps a refreshing one-time listen, but Alas, White People fails to duplicate the genius and novelty of it's predesscor, and what's left is a collection of a few fun tracks, a lot of filler, and an album nowhere near as engaging as one would expect with such a list of talent with such proven track records.

The Artistocrats

The other night I went to this play. Now, I'm a meat and potatoes guy; I like my entertainment simple. I don't go in for that performance art crap, but I gotta tell ya, this thing blew my mind.

Let me start by saying it's a family act, which is good, because as a family man I can tell yeah, it's hard to find good quality entertainment that you can enjoy with your loved ones. But fortunately there's the disney channel and this play.
First the father comes out. He's naked, and carrying a pot belly pig. After licking the pigs balls, he starts shitting a viscous spray of diarhea into a bucket, then his wife comes out, and she's also naked, holding the family dog. She holds the dog up in the air, and lets it pee in her mouth, which she then procedes to gargle. Then the son comes out, I'd say he's about 5 years old. He starts playing the piano, while his sister rides a unicycle, periodically stopping to pull raw bacon out of her pants, feeding it to the pig, which is following her around on stage.

When the dad finally fills the bucket, (it's a big bucket) he takes it and dumps it on his sons head, and he starts singing "Mammy." The wife then takes her finger and runs up along the inside of her husbands ass crack, you know, a cardswipe, and procedes to whipe a hitler mustache on her husband, who starts goose stepping across the stage.

Meanwhile the daughter has been fisting the potbelly pig, like a puppet, but when her father finsishes his first lap across the stage, she procedes to stuff an m-80 up the pigs ass and light it. Did I mention the Pig had a pink ribbon tied around it? She then kicks the pig across the stage, where it explodes. The stage is now covered with shit, piss, and bits and pieces of pot bellied pig. The mother reaches between her legs pulls out a used tampon, and eats it.

Then they all wallow in the mess and fuck like filthy fucking animals.

Pretty great, huh? If this show comes to your town you should see it. It's called the Taft Family BarB-Q.

I Heart Buckabees!

Hey Buckaroos! Coach Jim here coming at cha!
Maybe you have heard of my "I Heart Buckabees" program here at old OSU. Maybe you live in a cave in Iraq and strap bombs to your kids. Just remember Coach Tressel loves you and loves your delicious kids. Here's the deal, we added a new feature to our Platnum Alumni Club!

What you get:
• an OSU T-Shirt,
• your names on a special page of ALL our home game official OSU Football Programs,
• and discounted tickets.

What I get:
• Your first born child to cook and eat however I see fit.

You'll be screaming "I heart Buckabees, too"

Your happy , I'm happy - hell I'm going to be knee deep in real baby back ribs. It's a deal made in heaven (baby meat heaven). I'm going to stock up on BBQ sauce and meat tenderizer, while you stock up on savings!

Will there ever be a rainbow

Hey there world, It's me Jimmy T. I wrote a poem the other day. It's called: Will There Ever be a Rainbow?

Rainbow, Come back.
Rainbow, Come back.
Your colors remind me of my backpack,
From that first day of school.

Rainbow, so bright.
Rainbow, in the night.
Will I ever find that pot of gold,
before the day i grow so old.

Rainbow, i love you.
Rainbow, i love you.
Will you ever be,
will there ever be,

a Rainbow.