Piled up. Great phrase. His record is like a pile up on the freeway. In other words, a big wreck. Better that The Turk arriveth late than never.

'Bout dang time.

To lift a line from Poe: "Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.'"

Computer down. Doing this from my iPhone. I'll join y'all on the boards tomorrow or Thursday when my pc is fixed. I hate this hunt and peck crap on my iPhone. Dang arthritic, bratwurst-sized fingers.

Greetings to all you miscreants, ne'er do wells, carpet bagging Yankees and scalawags from the land down under (the other 49). Rumors of my demise have been greatly exagerrated although it's plain to see that Taylor and Company are about as dead as a frozen mullet. I remember when #92 was playing there and DC got dangerously close to a ring a couple of times, Taylor said something about having a 4 year plan. Well, 4 years and then some have come and gone and DC has gone backwards, not forwards. So I have a plan of my own I humbly submit for consideration: As they say in the airline industry, "Buh-bye."

It's time to start over. You can't get your wagon out of the ruts when the ruts are bigger than the wheels and it's high time for the Pooh-bahs at DC to come to grips with that. The loss to Hanover (congratulations, Panthers) was shatteringly loud and certainly sufficient enough that DC's illustrious president ought to be summoning The Turk right about now.

It's good to be back among pigskin friends. Cave2bens, you and I have some catching up to do. I seem to have gotten your email address screwed up so drop me a line, wouldja? DC has been, 70 Dc alum, SaintsFAN and formerd3db, I hope all is well with you. I'm proud to announce that #92 and the Missus have hatched a boy that, at one year old, is about three feet tall and tips the scale at 35 lb or so. Even at this early age, he's strong as hell (lifted a crock pot over his head and dropped it on the floor and broke it) and seems to already have quite an arm going. The kid lobs his toys like a closer. The eldest of Clan JacketsFan and his bride just produced a princess, that being the first female child born into the family in a generation. Yours truly will be retiring from Uncle Sugar after or around the first of the year. I aim to do some traveling to small town America for a series of back road travel stories I've promised the ediotor of my weekly column, "Cup of Joe." Ergo, I will be stopping by some small towns in Ohiofor local color, so I may need a place to crash when passing through. Anywho, time to go grab a shower and slow pokey off to the real job grind in the meantime. Every day I wake up smiling. Retirement is going to be grand.

Outta here, meatheads. Slanche!

Yay. DC slays the Quakers from the Duke of Earlham (yawn). Because the whole conference except Franklin is obviously in the weeds this year, DC will come out smelling like a rose when, underneath that rosy aroma, lingers the same old pile of cow flop. I don't think their defense looks that much improved. The only teams they've played that were any good ran right through their defense. As for the offense, please, somebody just shoot me. When will someone up there realize that after seven years, the DC-mobile has been in reverse about as much as its been in drive? Time to change driver and pit crew.

Yeah, I swallowed that hook all the way to the gills, my man. All you had to do was set it and reel my big slow dumb butt to the transom. So, did DC find a QB for this game or is MSJ just that bad. You know what would be funny? If Franklin somehow manages to lose a conference game - albeit hardly unlikely - and DC wins all its conference games, the could end up sharing the ring. Hardy-har-har? Talk about falling into the pigsty and coming up smelling like cotton candy.

What say you, my expatriated American friend who currently resides on the Dark Continent? Is there life in this corpse or is it just the wriggling of the worms within?

Well, I'll be dipped in tallow and have a wick stuck in my arse. Okay, I said I would do this and I'm always as good as my word. Groll called this one and I told him April Fools Day is still six months away. So, a big sloppy piece of humble pie, sans ice cream, for the Florida brigand. Now, if you lads will excuse me, I promised the missus dinner at a place tonight that doesn't serve fish and chips.

"Griz beat the Jackets in every phase of the game."

Really? Were the Jackets even there? Ohhhhhh, you mean that team with the purple and gold uniforms? I have an idea. Instead of calling themselves the Yellow Jackets, they should change their names to the Straight Jackets, as in you can't do doodly when you tie your own hands behind your back. But, as long as the head inmate is running the asylum, the rest of the gang is going to keep getting its weekly treatment of electro-shock therapy. Like cave2bens says, and probably will a cattle prod inserted in the hindmost.

Good afternoon, my merry band of miscreants, ne'er do wells and blackguards. Tidings from the land down under, where Spurrier once reigned supreme but of late, King Urban does. Bob, how the hell are you, my friend? Did you get my e-mail a couple of weeks ago. I am greatly enjoying your previous record collection, by the way.

Grandparenthood is awesome. The young'un, offspring of former DC tackle #92 and his lovely lady, tips the growth charts in the 98th percentile in height and weight. Two months old this week and already 24 inches long and nearly 18 pounds. He's now being weaned onto a steady diet of SEC formula and it is daddy's and his papa's (not to mention his mama and his grandmother's) fervent desire that he will be in full pads and attending two a days by the time he starts walking.

What can I say about DC? Did anyone actually think things would improve?  No quarterback, no offense, tepid and predictable coaching. I'm reminded of that old tune by Talking Heads, with the refrain, "Same as it ever was."

Anyway, it's good to be back. I hope this finds all of you well and in good spirits.

Yay for DC. About time you got a win. Do it again next week.

Saints, if y'all come down heah and put sugah in yo grits, y'all leave us no choice but to walk over to yo table, tip our Confederate hats politely, and say, ""Excuse me, Suh, Y'all ain't from around heah, are y'all?" We will then nod our heads in the general direction of the parking lot and cheerfully invite y'all to leave.

Brother Bob's got it right. It's butter, salt, pepper and/or gravy. Or, if you order fried eggs, you can even chop up them in the grits. It you really want a treat to make your carotids crackle, you can mix up some flour in your cooked grits, dice up some sweet Vidalia onion in it, make patties with the mixture and fry it in a  skillet of bacon grease.

You nailed it, Lynn. The DC train started at Victory Station and then the dumb conductor proceeded to head down the wrong tracks towards Perdition.

Altor: "You, sir, are the eternal pessimist."

Who stepped on your ventilator tube, altor? I'm not a pessimist. I'm a realist. A pragmatist. The four years my son played at DC, I watched the current head coach use the former head coach's recruiting class as the base he was apparently trying to build on and he had two years where he had a nice run going. Unfortunately, he insisted on sticking with a lousy QB and he quit recruiting outside the state. This can't all be laid at the door of short funding. The man doesn't know how to recruit. If he did, he wouldn't have an O-line that looks like a box of Dunkin Donuts, a QB that can't throw a shuttlecock across a badminton net or an offense that looks like a Three Stooges skit. For the first couple of years or so, I was working hard down here hooking him up with potential recruits. Then he started showing a total lack of interest. After awhile, I quit hearing from him altogether. I used to take time off work and drive to schools in the area and talk to them about DC football. But when the head coach appears to stop even appreciating the efforts others are making for him gratis, his ship ain't to float for long. I think the same thing happened with another former DC player on the West Coast if I'm not mistaken.

DC got beat again today. No small surprise. Yeah, I know, I'm just a pessimist. Let me set you straight on something, amigo. In gunnery practice, the range instructor showed us how to set our sights a little higher in order to hit the ten ring on the far down range targets. I never did have a range instructor tell me to aim for the middle of the target. Start doing that and you end up where DC is right now - Maggie's Drawers. And unless something changes ASAP, I don't see DC winning a single game this season. If they don't do something asap, they're to be wearing Maggie's Drawers the rest of the season. Losing is in their heads and it's taking a toll. Can y'all understand this? Here, boy, let me put some butter on them grits. It'll make them taste better.

The other thing about fat girls is that you have to roll them around in flour to find their, ah, never mind.

Altor, you are the eternal optimist. I've been to the mountain top with DC and then shoved off the summit so many times now I stopped counting. Until they're no longer satisfied to be a middle of the pack team, they will never amount to much of anything. T had his chances to build a championship team with the recruiting classes that P brought in. He also had a damn genius of a defensive coordinator in Adam Baumgartner and a formidable O-line coach in John Prinz. Then he bet the house on a QB who had a deadly arm as long as the receivers wore the opposing jerseys and blew a game to WomanChester that would've been a conference ring for his team and a much needed shot in the arm for the program. The dog and pony show was repeated the next year despite having Lucas Dillon receiving, a couple of formidable running backs, a kick-ass O-line and a blood thirsty defense. There's something in the water there that's bad and my mama always told me, when the water tastes bad, pour it out and get yourself a fresh glass. DC has got to lift its sights above something other than mediocrity. Look what MSJ and Franklin has done. Look what Wabash has done.

Look here brother, who you jiving with that cosmic debris

Ahhh, Griz-Backer, you're a gentleman, a scholar and a good sport to boot. Alas, your noble defense of DC kind of reminds me of the guy who's trying to get a friend to take his ugly sister on a date. When his friend asks him what she looks like, he launches into a soliloquy about what a great cook she is; how she can grow the prettiest flowers in town in her garden; what a terrific sense of humor she has; how well read  she is, etc., etc. When the friend finally pins him down and says look dammit, quick dodging the question and tell me what she looks like, the ugly woman's brother throws up his hands and asks in exasperation, "Why does everyone insist on getting bogged down on trivial details?" I'm afraid DC is the ugly sister of the HCAC right now, but maybe it'll turn out one of the others is only a single bagger instead of a double bagger. But on the bright side, it does keep cave2bens and I in Frank Zappa material.

...A leprechaun had stroked his
Sma-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ahhh (stroked his smock)
Which set him off in such a frenzy
He sang LOCK AROUND THE CROCK

DC one game closer to getting their HCAC Toe Rings and Purple and Gold leterman tutus. Woo-hoo! Who woulda thunk it? I heard they even lost the bye last week but have been to embarrassed to publish the results. Bob, what would our friend Frank say?

Dominus Vo-Bisque 'em
Et cum spear a tu tu
Oh!

They're so light and fluffy white
We'll raise a fortune by tonight

Doc Todd, how are you? I haven't heard from you in a month of Sundays. I can't remember which of us owes the other the next e-mail it's been so long. Bob says you might be coming down this way. True?

Pat, thanks for the offer. Now I can't find the photo. It's in this infernal machine somewhere. Where are my damn sons and daughters in law when I need them?

If a computer crashes in the middle of a room in a state far away and there's no one there to hear it except the one who blew a hole in it with a .45-caliber pistol, does it make a sound?

Thanks, Pat. I'm a technotard and it'll take me a month of Sundays to figure this out without one of my kids here to walk me through it. I did manage to put the photos on photobucket. I just can't figure out how to get one to here.

Oh, touche, Robert. Mayhap they can replace their letter jackets with purple and gold tutus.
I'm thinking of trading in my old avatar for one of my pirate photos. How do I do it?