Now Pinch Hitting for Mrs. T...
Tressel here. Coach Jim Tressel. How are all my little Buck Nuts? Good? Yeah, well I've been sleeping at a goddamn Motel 6 for the last few days thanks to this stupid blog, so you can all rot in hell. I hope you guys enjoy this. I hope it was worth it. Because apparently Mrs. Tressel doesn't enjoy the World.
I guess she found a link to this blog on some message board for baking, or laundry, or cooking dinner, or whatever the hell it is she does for fun when I'm at work paying the mutha fuckin' bills. Needless to say, she didn't take to kindly to the photos from Spring Break.
But I guess that's the risk you take with this new and exciting medium that is the blog-O-sphere. No-Holds-Barred Truth, that's what this blog is about. I'm not pulling punches. I'm not holding back. There's a truth inside me, and it needs a place to breath. This blog is that place.
That being said, what a crazy weekend. So with the Mrs. not talking to me, I needed someone to take to Ken Blackwell's Key Parrty/Fund Raiser this weekend. I've said it once and I'll say it again, thank god for prostitutes. Sure enough no one attending, not Bob Taft, not Wally O'Dell, and certainly not Ken Blackwell or any of Ohio's other prominent Republicans noticed. Let's just say Shanta earned her twenty bucks. Unfortunately she gave everyone crabs. Still, it's not like its AIDS, and it's certainly nothing a little topical ointment can't take care of.
Honey, if you're reading this. Let's stop the fussin' and get back to mussin'. I miss you.
I also need you to pick up my drycleaning.
I guess she found a link to this blog on some message board for baking, or laundry, or cooking dinner, or whatever the hell it is she does for fun when I'm at work paying the mutha fuckin' bills. Needless to say, she didn't take to kindly to the photos from Spring Break.
But I guess that's the risk you take with this new and exciting medium that is the blog-O-sphere. No-Holds-Barred Truth, that's what this blog is about. I'm not pulling punches. I'm not holding back. There's a truth inside me, and it needs a place to breath. This blog is that place.
That being said, what a crazy weekend. So with the Mrs. not talking to me, I needed someone to take to Ken Blackwell's Key Parrty/Fund Raiser this weekend. I've said it once and I'll say it again, thank god for prostitutes. Sure enough no one attending, not Bob Taft, not Wally O'Dell, and certainly not Ken Blackwell or any of Ohio's other prominent Republicans noticed. Let's just say Shanta earned her twenty bucks. Unfortunately she gave everyone crabs. Still, it's not like its AIDS, and it's certainly nothing a little topical ointment can't take care of.
Honey, if you're reading this. Let's stop the fussin' and get back to mussin'. I miss you.
I also need you to pick up my drycleaning.
posted by Jimmy Tressel at 7:02 AM
11 Comments:
Hey, Ms. T, cut The Vest some slack. At least you're not having to bail his ass out of jail. Me, I can't get drunk without assaulting somebody, and that's almost always good for a free (but handcuffed) ride in the backseat a Crown Victoria. The Vest's temper control when ingesting mind-altering substances must be respected!
Coach I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think I saw the Misses over at John Cooper's place. I think I heard something like "Oh, yeah...You can beat THIS MAZE baby...Oh, yeah."
Coach, me and some of the boys are gonna hit Vegas this weekend. As long as the missus has you out of the house, you wanna tag along? We're going to get Petey Carrol another transvestite hooker just like last time. It'll be halarious!
I think I'd give the wife some action and then when she falls asleep I would leave.
Dearest Coach Tressell,
I just wanted to let you know that I am a huge fan and I would certainly be willing to meet you and see if anything could develop between us. Look me up, sweetcheeks.
you've abandoned us coach...
come on cheatypants! Hit us with some wizdom
Dear anonymous,
Hold your horses. Coach Tressel is very busy with football stuff these days. He doesn't have free time everyday to bless us with good stuff here. Be patient and the guy will post.
How do crabs leave the hospital? On crotches!
(See the crap we're resorting to, coach. Post, dammit.)
He could be locked up. I heard a rumor he groped a senior citizen on a golf course last weekend.
tressel, im going through some tough times right now. i could really use an uplifting poem to help me during these dark days.
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