Gametime...

Rumor has it, and by rumor has it I mean Max told me this tidbit of the juicyness last night, that Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins is now smashing the pumpkins of one Jessica Simpson. Really? Billy Corgan? The last "high profile" piece of tail I can remember Billy getting down with was one heroin addled Courtney Love post Cobain suicide version. She looked like an anorexic skeleton in a zip off crack whore costume. He even got her after that little fairy from R.E.M. Stipe got done wiping his junk on her. Congrats Billy Corgan for taking a significant step upwards in your boy pants.

Significance? Well, as you may or may not know, one SupertitsMcGee Simpson used to go out with the quarterback of our main foe today. The one who has massacred his December resume according to all the media sources I've consulted must be slightly disappointed that his ex-conquest is now trading bodily fluids with the lead singer of a long defunct band. I think he can even appreciate Gish, but everything after that pales in comparison for sure.

I am scared of the Cowgirls. I mean I really am. Max has tried to convince me otherwise but I think that feeling permeates the locker room. The last time out we got it handed to us, albeit with Gates serving out his well deserved suspension for being the greatest tight end to ever hold out of training camp. Did I thank A.J. for that again yet? No? Okay, thanks for that again A.J. Nothing like breeding a culture of fear against an opponent within my head that most assuredly permeates the locker room.

Given my druthers, we stomp the piss out of this lie of a football team today and send old Reauxmeaux home with nary a head injury so that he still has to visualize his old girlfriend with Billy Corgan cock deep inside all her orifices.

That being said, Go Bolts. In an abbreviated rant this week, fuck Rush the band. Stupid Canadians. By no means am I insulting all Canadians right to their faces, as far as you know, but that band can eat a dick.

Bolts 28 Cowgirls 24.