Speaking of mailing it in …

I worked for a few hours today. I watched the tournament at work during said few hours. I bought a new luxury sled. I prepped for Snowmageddon 2010.

Sorry.

Expect a big announcement shortly.

Unfortunately, I think this is what I must act like after Oklahoma loses to Texas. (A much sexier, hornier version, of course.) Where is this guy’s group? Surely he didn’t roll out there like that alone. What a bunch of a-hole friends.

Spoiler: That chick to the right isn’t in the video … anywhere.

Anyway, check out the scene after the jump and I apologize in advance for the flesh. It’s nauseating. No, really, it is.

What, you thought OU’s basketball season couldn’t get worse? You were clearly wrong. According to TMZ — and they don’t tend to eff around much — a $3,000 wire transfer was deposited into the joint savings account of Keith “Tiny” Gallon and his mother, Sylvia Wright.

As for who gave Keith the dough — the document shows it’s Jeffrey Hausinger, a Merrill Lynch financial advisor who reps several professional athletes.

It’s a violation of NCAA rules for any player or player’s relative to receive money that isn’t readily available to other players — for example, a student loan or scholarship. We’re told the rule clearly prohibits any agent, lawyer or financial advisor from trying to lure a player with money.

I guess my follow-up question is, why hasn’t TMZ been all up in the ass of the USC football program. Oh, because they’re in the same city and probably don’t want to risk the chance they can’t party with them? OK, yeah, that does make sense.

Anyway, as bad as this season is, and assuming this turns out to be a violation, it may be time to clean house and take our lumps. This program is an embarrassment. And it hurts me to even say that.

Red Dirt Lovelies,

Last Saturday, DM, MK, myself  and everyone else in Dallas with the desire to get shitcaned before noon was out gallivanting  down Greenville.

And boy did we get shitcaned.

You know a day’s going to go well when you pound three Bloody Marys by 10:30 am, and take a walk with a fourth to go see a parade of drunken idiots throwing Jello shots (cue MK’s float), cops posing with half un-dressed (I like my cup to be half full) whores, and teeny children scared shitless by their parent’s overzealous excitement for beads.

One of my favorite St. Patty’s sighting had to be the 50-plus woman rocking a sweet, demure green linen outfit at the start of the parade. By the end of the parade, this crazy ho had unbuttoned her top to reveal green string bikini, a tum tum that had obviously housed multiple babies at one point or another, and a disgusting belly button ring holding on for dear life.  She had the most beads.

And no, I didn’t get a picture.  I didn’t want to break my camera.

Also spotted:

• Dumb bitch that had died her dog green
• Bitches in bikini (who had more right to be rocking them than Granny McSaggy O’Titties)
• Men in kilts without undies
• Beer Pong with Mimosas at 9 a.m. in Roxy’s driveway
• People passed out by noon thirty
• Drunk bastards humping scared girls
• Roxy macking on a middle school teacher
• Boys in tank tops (NEVER acceptable)
• A girl in a “shake your shamrocks” shirt with two strategically placed shamrocks (well, they would have been strategically placed if she weren’t so fat)
• Crazy belly-dancing bitches
• My pride and dignity giving me the finger as I took margarita Jello shots (thanks The Due!)
• One guy telling me I made a mistake for not dating him last year … over and over and over again while grabbing my ass (Note: I did NOT make a mistake)
• Three random teenagers crashing Roxy’s party around 1 p.m., eating everything in sight, passing out hugs like they were free condoms, and taking a rank shit in Roxy’s potty
• Other boy I dated groping my ass
• Friend-of-friend who has long-term girlfriend mugging down with unsuspecting ho in Roxy’s bedroom
• Roxy’s fat neighbor then hitting on said boy
• Lots o’ tramp stamps

So, what did all this debauchery get me?

• Sweet-ass sunglasses burn and farmer tan
• Hungover at 9 p.m. after 12 straight hours of drinking
• A desire never to have a margirita Jello shot ever, ever again
• Possible liver disease
• Boy from 2009 convinced we’re going to date despite my adamancy that we are not, no, not in a million and 12 years
• Roxy insisting she wants to date a middle school teacher, who at midnight invited her to a strip club for eggs (I wish I were joking)

Happy (one day late) St. Patty’s day, my little C-words.

C U Next Thursday,

SugarTits

Come on, twitter me, baby. ST_RedDirtKings. Ooh, twitter me again.

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Now, in my limited experience, this often results in a disconnect or fat white dude slapping his salami. Not something anyone wants to see.

But Piano Chat Improv Guy — AKA Merton — flipped everything on its beak. Like the name implies, he’s set up with a piano and just starts playing made-up songs to random-oids. Think Flight of the Conchords on a Web cam.

I’d suggest you visit the chat sight first to understand whats it’s about — really, 2-3 minutes is more than enough. Then go check out the PCIG. Acronyms tell the kids I’m cool.

See what I did there?

It was a clever take on ESPN’s ever boorish Bracketology. Joe Lunardi gets paid more than me almost as much as me to spend a month guessing which teams will make the NCAA tournament, then brags about missing one or two each year. There are literally five bubble teams each year that could go either way. So good for you, Joe.

You might be asking — is this Gravy Train really as good looking as we think he is? Sugar Tits’ recent video showed what a nice little rackalicious thing she is. I am that, but, like, for girls. You know what I mean?

I digress.

Actually, you are probably wondering, “who are the dark horses in this year’s NCAA tournament?” Well, I’m about to tell you, so BACK THE FUCK OFF.

Baylor

Baylor is finally getting some national pub. Which makes the following prediction less and less interesting or likely to come to fruition: Baylor has the best shot of coming out of the West and making the Final Four. They are a terrible matchup for almost any team. They are huge on the blocks. They are long on the wings. They have two fantastic guards in Tweety Carter and Lacedarius Dunn. They have a skilled big man in Udoh and athletic forwards like Acey and Jones.

If this team can remain out of foul trouble, Dunn can hit some shots, and they play defense, they will make the Final Four.

Marquette

This is a guard-dominated tournament. Teams with great big men will win a  game or two, but it is guard play (or rather outside shooting) that allows teams to advance (see OU v. Syracuse 2009, and OU in 2002). Marquette is 40.6 percent from behind the arc. In the Big East. Only BYU and St. Mary’s have a better outside shooting percentage in the Big Dance, and both did it in the MWC and WCC, respectively.

The only thing I don’t like about this pick is I also like Washington, whom Marquette is matched up against. But if they beat the Huskies, they will play West Virginia in the Sweet 16.

Wisconsin

I hate Wisconsin. They always have too many white guys. And they have really fat, ugly women. One spring break, we went to Padre and befriended these moon monsters from Madison. Yeah, they could drink. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing they had in common with Chris Farley.

But the Badgers have a basketball team this year geared to make a run in an NCAA tournament devoid of dominant teams. They are fourth in the nation in scoring defense. They are in the top 30 in free throws. They don’t turn the ball over. Boring. Low scoring. Fundamental. Enough to get them into the Sweet 16 and give a Kentucky team that hates teams that play defense (see Mississippi State) its only serious challenge short of the Final Four.

Oklahoma State

Ugh.

But the Cowboys are an odd match up for a lot of teams. And if they get hot from the outside, they can shoot themselves into an Elite 8. They have a superior wing man in Anderson. They have an emerging big man in Pilgrim. They have a guy who can advance them with one hot game. And other guys, when open, who can hit shots.

I will have two brackets. One will have OSU losing in the 1st round. The other will have them playing Georgetown for the right to play Kansas. They will make life difficult offensively for Georgia Tech and, if applicable, Ohio State. If they hit some shots, look out.

After a 14-hour St. Patrick’s Day bender for the Greenville Avenue Block Party in Dallas, I’ve got nothing for you. No stupid jokes. No snide remarks. No naked pics of anything naked. I’m out. So, I just leave you with this shot I took about 2 p.m. on Saturday. It was one of the last moments I remember before going into my drunk stupor. Eff me.

Spring break is almost here. FYI.

Members of the Oklahoma State Legislature found a new and creative way to embarrass the state of Oklahoma this week. How? By interrupting actual governing with a pissing contest about portraits of the President and the former state house speaker. It’s almost amazing that this state gets anything done, what with our elected leaders acting like a bunch of 11-year-olds.

I have considered a run for state office. My platform would center on less government, more local involvement, less clothes for college-aged women, more investment in private industry, free porn, and free porn and whiskey.

The Oklahoma Sooners Men’s Basketball team mercifully (and finally) murdered it’s 2009-2010 season this week … two months too late. You can call us losers. You can say this team had no cohesion. You can say Coach Capel didn’t put together a team, but rather just a bunch of players. You can say they look disorganized on offense. You can say they don’t play defense.

But you can’t call them quitters. Wait … whut …

Instead of showing some fucking pride, Bedlam III resulted in a 14-point loss by the Sooners in a game that saw the quick starting Normanites end the first 6 minutes down by 18. Attaway to end the season on a high note, gentlemen. Can’t wait to see the product these guys put on the floor next year. Hopefully we’ll see more match-up zone defense and less give-up-the-uncontested-layup defense.

Ben Roth less burger (sp) is being investigated … yet again … for fondling a young woman when she didn’t want said fondling. Ladies of Norman, a public service announcement — keep an eye out for a big, goofy looking kat wearing a No. 7 Steelers jersey. Especially during OU women’s basketball home games.

Big Ben has got to work on his technique. Chicks don’t want some big, hulking guy grabbing their ass while requesting a mouth hug. He needs to attend Gravy Train’s “How To Pick Up Chicks and Be Cool” training course. Here’s a freebie for you minions — use chloroform liberally. Does wonders to your lady’s inhibitions.

HOTTIE ATHLETE OF THE WEEK

Take these humans for example. In a weak attempt to hype up March Madness, they have managed to fail at creativity, humor, musical talent and technical proficiency. At least the Olympic Rap from a few weeks ago had original music (sorta) and a video camera made after 1997.

The only thing saving this shit-ass video from raping my earballs is that “No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn” is ST’s favorite song to pole dance to. It really brings back some great memories … of her junior-high days. What? I’m suppose to check the ID of every girl I run across? Meh.

Anyway, what’s odd is that their Saved By the Bell “I Love Bayside” video, based on last summer’s “I Love College” by Asher Roth, had potential. Shut up, SBTB kicked ass.

I was watching TV late the other night. At commercial, I got up to go tinkle.  I’m in the bathroom taking care of business like BTO, and I hear crazy sex noise coming from my TV.

Now, sex noises coming from my TV is not a rare occurrence, but it was a little startling considering I was watching some shit-ass, sexless movie on Bravo.

With the help of God’s gift to lazy slobs like myself, I rewound that bitch to see what all the racket was. If there’s sexin’ going on, I want to watch it.

This is what I missed.

Best commercial in the history of ever.

I was so shocked that this commercial was allowed to be aired, but yet so impressed. I high-fived my TV. God bless you, Sara’s Secret.

A few days later, DM had sent me this article about a billboard off I-35 in Lancaster, Texas. Lancaster residents, with their undies in a permanent twist, were getting all frazzled.

“Stop vegetable abuse.”

And a cucumber.

See what they’re insinuating? How did you describe it, DM?  When a girl is lonely, she looks for things that are shaped like something else to keep her company and fill her voids?

The billboard was also done by my new besties at Sara’s Secret in cahoots with Condoms to Go. Pure advertising genius.

As far as I know, the board is still there. Which makes me super happy.

But what makes me even happier is seeing that Sara’s Secret has an accompanying cucumber commercial.

I want to kiss you on the mouth, Sara’s Secret. Maybe with tongue.

C U Next Thursday,

SugarTits

Come on, twitter me, baby. ST_RedDirtKings. Ooh, twitter me again.

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