Lazy Sundays

Yeah, so since the season's been over I've been kind of well....bored. Take for instance, today, the first weekend without any football since August. I woke up at 10, punched the clown, rolled back over went back to sleep, then woke up again at 1, layed in bed for a while, channel surfed for about an hour, man, putting a TV in our bedroom was a mistake, and getting the Spice channel, was probably an even bigger one. I've been slammin the ham so much lately it looks like a goddamn rasberry. I don't mean to mix metaphors, but seriously, I got dandruff on my doodle. It's only been a few weeks since the Fiesta bowl, and I am B-O-R-E-Fuckin' D!

Has anyone seen my wife, by the way? Last time I remember seeing her was during the post Fiesta party. I'm out of clean towels, and I'm really starting to worry about her.

The other day I decided I was going to start writing a screenplay. It's a Sci-Fi Musical set in the year 3000, the story of an android football coach, who develops emotions. Everyone thinks he should go pro, you know, for the money, but he stays in college cause he cares so much about the kids. He's very selfless, and giving, due to a microchip his creator gave him. Also, in the off-season, he spends his nights pleasuring the queens of all the great powers of the galaxy...sexually, but by day, he fights zombie space pirates. I've kind of hit a wall, though, because if he's in space, how can there be night and day? Sort of mind-blowing, isn't it. Do you get jet-lag in space? If you're an android, do you even have to observe the rules of night and day? Maybe I'll ask my good buddy Dick Goddard.

One thing's for sure, I'm no Ray Bradbury. God, I wish the off-season would be over! The other day I ate an entire half gallon of chocolate brownie fudge ice cream. It was non-fat, but still, I feel like such a load. I tried to go out for jog with my new ipod, but I can never seem to make it more than two days in a row. I'm so lazy. I've got to stop jerking off. Once a day, Tressel, that's the limit.

On the bright side, SNL is getting pretty good. I really like the new cast. That Andy Samberg sure is a card. I love the sweedish chef ring-tones sketch. Man, that'd be sweet if you really could download those. Maurice could always do a pretty good swedish chef imitation. I can't imageine why he couldn't make it work with the Broncos, the kid was pretty good at impressions. His Mr. Burns was dead on. Maybe I should go visit him. I wonder if he could help me with my screenplay.

At the very least he could help me pick a title. So far I've narrowed it down to few options:

1. Space Coach Coast to Coast


2. The Coach Who Should Go Pro, You, Know, for the Money, But Won't Cause He Cares About The Kids, Due To His Microchip, In The Year 3000


3. Jimmy Get Your Laser


4. Intergalactic Sextastic Robo-Coach of Many Colors


5. Fuck You, Charlie Weiss

Is it just me or is this year's Dancing with the Stars not as good?

I know I should update my blog more, seeing as how i'm so bored, but sometimes I don't think anyone reads it. I never get any comments. Does this mean no one cares what I have to say? Read the title, I got alot of things to say. So what if they're not about football. Fuck you guys.

I started baking my own bread. It's a lot of work, and makes a mess, but it sure makes the house smells good. Kind of makes me horny. Hey, I wonder what's on the Spice channel...

The Spoils of Victory

Sorry I haven't updated lately, Tresselnation. What's that smell? THAT'S SWEET FUCKING VICTORY, BABY! Actually that's me, I haven't bathed in four days... but boozing in my scarlet and grey hot tub with hot naked coeds probably counts as a bath.

I am so wasted.
I'm on day ten of one of the sweetest benders ever. I sent my wife on a two week cruise (or maybe locked her fat ass in the coat room with a gallon of water, two boxes of Wheaties, some crossword puzzels and a flashlight). I didn't want her to spoil the party we've been having over here at Casa de Tressel or as the boys have been calling it this week "The Pussy Center". Dr. Jimbo has been doing alot of breast exams this week.

Some how part of our sectional and one of Troy Smith's hookers ended up at the bottom of my pool. But that's why I have a maid. She's been working extra hard this week clearing away beer cans, ash trays, drug paraphanalia and dead hookers.
Speaking of pool we put the pool table out in the front yard and harrassed the neighbors with taunts and beer bottles until yesterday when federal marshals set fire to it. Well, I was entertaining some young ladies at the time so I don't know if that is what exactly happened, but that was A. J. Hawk's drunken, drug addled version of the story. So who knows? Hawk has been so out of it he hasn't realized that we shaved his eyebrows and stupid hippy hair three damn days ago. He looks like a fucking dolphin.

It's just like my days at the out frat house but with less rape, humiliation and latent homosexuality. Well I've got to go light a bag of dog shit on fire and throw it into the open (o.k. broken) window of Krezel's dumb PT Cruiser. That joke never gets old. Hey It's my turn to do a keg stand - see ya jerks.

Half Time Quickie

Ordinarily, I'd use half-time to motivate my players. Pat em on the back, or serve em up some ass-kick salad depending on how they're playing. But since I haven't been updating as much lately as I'd like to, and It's my New Years Resolution to blog more, I'm bringing all you Tressel-teers a little Tostito's Half Time blog-post.

First of all, 21-7? I thought this guy was supposed to be an offensive genius. Did you see that sack by AJ Hawk. He stuffed him just like he stuffed his sister the night before...which was hot. He taped it for the whole team. Right before the game we all got in a circle, prayed and then beat off to it. Except the muslim kids. They had to wait outside the locker-room cause they're not real Americans. I'll tell ya, I wouldn't mind stickin it to that little cutie. She's Catholic though, so AJ's gotta put it in her pooper so she stays a virgin, no birth control either. It's crazy, but you know how they are, not exactly the most rational religion. Body and blood my ass.

Yeah Charlie Weiss is suposed to be a genius. I'll tell ya, I don't care how many Super Bowl rings that Jesus Lovin Jaba has on his fat little donut grabbers, there's one thing I see every morning in the shower, that that tub o' goo never will, and that's my very own cock. Guess he's just gonna have to sit in the corner and watch his team shower, like the sad little Virgin Mary he is.

On a serious note, I want all of you out there in Tressel's World to say a little prayer for my buddy Maurice. He's goin through some problems right now with the law. I had him over for Xmas Eve dinner last week, and yes, I counted all my silver-wear, but as he was leaving my house, after the cavity search, he said, "Coach, I think I'm gonna go to Europe to play ball. I'm gonna get my career back on track." And I said "Go for it Maury." And he said, "Can I borrow $800 for a plane ticket?" and I said, "Sorry bud, I got credit card bills out the wahoo from Christmas, but good luck and enjoy those Dutch hookers."

I guess I should have loaned him the money.

TOUCHDOWN JESUS, you can suck it!

Look at this sorry sack of shit. That John Tesh-looking motherfucker is my nephew Steve. That's not pussy whooped, that's a vaginal nuclear devistation. He used to get all kinds of tail before he met that little bitch, Misty. That kid was getting laid like carpet. Misty showed up and put and end to the Poon Train, which is a shame because he used to hook old Uncle Jimmy up with some sweet pieces of ass. Misty's had his nuts in a jar since Clinton was in office. Poor Steve spends his weekends "redeorating" and shopping for antiques and rare cheeses. I had a long talk with the kid and he did admit that they do a some light swinging and misty has no gag reflex. So whatever, I guess to each his own. But that bitch went to Notre Dame so I'm having her killed if we loose today.

FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME! FUCK YOU! NOTRE DAME!


Prepare to get fucked right in your fucking face today Notre Dame...