Saturday, July 22, 2006

Jimbo Takes Manhattan



Hey Kids. It's me Tressel, Coach Jim Tressel. Fah Get about it! This weekend I made a trip to the Big Apple for a little recruiting. Too bad all I recruited was crabs, and some dank schwag. I went and saw Avenue Q. It was OK. I like puppets.

I got a hot tip on a Tailback at Marcus Garvey High School in East Harlem. Now I don't know much about New York, but from what I've heard there are quite a lot of street gangs. Now I've reached out to troubled youths, Maurice Clarette, Troy Smith, Andy Katsemoyer, but I've never had to deal with New York Street Gangs. To prepare I rented The Warriors from Blockbuster. I also listened to Mase's Harlem World. I watched it over and over and over. As you can see by this outfit, within a few days I was fully able to assimilate into New York gang culture, thanks to this movie. At least I would have been, except I got picked up in the park on my way uptown. I made the mistake of getting off the subway on Park Ave. to get a Choco Taco from an ice cream vendor.

Ah well, live and learn.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Et Tu Brutus?

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

It's Always Sunny In Columbus, Ohio

Hey there sports fans, it's me Tressel, Coach Jimmy Tressel. Hope you all had a great fourth of July. Mine was pretty sweet until the boys in blue showed up and started hassling me about an incident involving my neighbor's dog and some badasssed bottle rockets I stole from some kids down the street. Gee wiz, people are so uptight sometimes.

So the other night, I hit the town with my favorite OSU booster Bob. He's an ok guy but he likes to party. He promised to hook us up with some classy call girls so I said I'd catch the bill at dinner. He picked out a sweet little redhead with big cans for the coach and a little Asian one for himself. About eight bottles of wine into our meal things were going swimmingly until our waitress totally flaked out. I know that decent customer service is a thing of the past now a days, but Bob only grabbed her ass like twice. She was Indian or some kind of Spanish and didn't even recognize who I was. So I dumped some wine on Bob's hooker and asked the waitress to go in the back for some soda water, then we split. Bob grabbed the girls and I grabbed the Make-A-Wish kid and we jumped in my dodge omni that I tricked out to look like a buckeye helmet.

Oh yeah, I got stuck with one of those Make-A-Wish cancer kids for the day and had to bring him along. I thought we'd do something for the kid so we decided to get high and go to Lazer Planet, one of those laser tag joints. My old cat Scarlet had cancer and I had to crack it in the head with an ashtray and toss it in the fireplace with some gasoline for a Viking burial. It still makes me sad sometimes thinking about those fuzzy paws and those curious little green eyes (and all that sizzling, yuck). So I've got a soft spot for those creepy little cancer kids.

We get there - get suited up and were having a great time until the kid kept lighting me up in the back. I told him to get lost, he was totally messing up my score in the rankings. Out of nowhere the little bastard kicks your favorite coach flat in the old sperm wallet. After I recovered I got up took my belt off and strapped him to a post. I must have scored like 800 points on him before I got back to my regular attack. Needless to say "Boba Fett", that's my laser tag handle, ranked numero uno. We split and headed for the Holiday Inn. I pretended to look for the kid for a couple minutes so the girls wouldn't think I was a jerk.

We got there, ordered some bubbly and cheeseburgers, then tore the room apart and made it into an obstacle coarse. After a couple rounds of naked freeze tag and a game I call Goblin', it was time to turn the lights low and get down to business. All in all, it was a darn good time.

So here I am at Casa de Tressel looking to just wind down and relax. I walked in the door and Mrs. T was steaming. She was barking something about the Make-A-Wish people calling the house all morning. All I wanted to do was stop the cast of Stomp from performing in my skull, I gave her some cash and sent her ass to the mall. The phone's off the hook now and I'm getting ready to catch up on some cartoons I TiVo-ed, drink some orange pop, eat some cheetos, and relax.

What a night. I bet that Make-A-Wish kid is wishing he didn't kick me in the nuts. Gosh, I'd better get that belt back soon, my kids gave it to me last Christmas. The belt buckle says Big Jim.


Peace.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Yeah... whatever.


Hello neighbor, it's me Tressel, Coach Jimmy Tressel, some of you out there in Tressel's World have been complaining about the coach not posting enough. Well let me lift my balls up off your chin long enough to explain to you that I have this team that I coach called the Ohio State Fucking Buckeyes, an interplanetary force of cosmic destructive awesomeness, don't forget that. I figure that if I get another bowl game under my belt Jimmy T"s going to be getting some Hollywood pussy, at least a Desperate Housewife or two. That's why I've been working extra hard this year.

Have you ever had to punch your nextdoor neighbor in the nuts just because you slapped his wife's fat ass and passed out in his yard, woke up next to his teenage daughter and made sweet love to her behind their garage while the sun gently rose to start a new beautiful day and maybe gave her the clap? I have.

Is anyone watching any of this world cup nonsense? It's hard not to. The games are on like four channels. I was stoned out of my gourd last week in some chick's dorm room watching a game on the Spanish channel. I kind of got into it for a second but then I realized that I was just high and the chick and her roommate were both on the soccer team and I was hoping to get some action off the roommate. It was kind of like when you're surfing the porn super highway, you know the interweb, and you see a picture of some skank who has a weird vagina (a really meaty one, maybe a clenis or just one of those big ones that goes from the ass to the belly button) and you think that's hot, just because it's weird. But then your like no - that's just weird. That's how I felt watching soccer.

Sure I'll have my agents go kidnap some Scandinavian kid who plays soccer when I need a new kicker, but that game is way retarded. Think of the guys who played soccer at your high school. They were usually skinny or short, had bad skin - goofyassed haircuts and were most likely foreign. No son of mine legitimate or not will ever play that girl sport. What self respecting sports fan could appreciate a sport responsible for promoting the mullet?

That's all for now kids. The Coach has grown up stuff to do. I'm keepin' it loose so keep it tight, ladies leave the door unlocked I'll be by later tonight.