(November 26, 2019)
Whole lotta more here;
religious rampantly, too!
*(Originally mis-typed “Florida-Georgia!” but that was weeks past and less than satisfying though perfectly predicted to my Gator younger brother and his bride who forsook her “Carolina” chicken – now not so much salad – but a Real Game Cock instead under the tutelage of their second-ever UofF head ball coach, the first having left saintly Gainesville and the other having been fired and now with a bonafide actual starting NFL quarterback roaming the pastures are reconsidering letting it be once more gamecock entire.
But it is Florida-Florida State this Saturday eve’ntide. Still: whish I had done the above for Them Dawgs. Besides, Florida State’s got its annual dance with Them Maimi Fraidy-Canes, once the scourge of the entire state…until Luther’s little helpers fouled up the nest.
Once there was a time when it took a Full On Tallahassee Legislature and Senate combined to threaten Them Gators with castigation if they did not schedule Them ‘Noles in a game of feetsball someday real soon now. That was all before Saint Bobby (Bowden) rode in from Alabamastan and turned that wimmen’ school ina some hardnockers – no pun intended, y’all!
‘Sides, Them Free Shoes U guys gots more to worry ’bout than some kids in blue and orange with their own tame lawyer on staff to keep their depredatiousness off the public viewscreens and polly-wanna-cracker birdcage liner-duty. It’s that team Up Nawff at Clemson, Souff Kakkalaki what’s the problem for both FSU and The U, too!
Enjoy the fray, fellows, felines and friends. Neither side sends me a check for winning so I’s pure and clean as the peed upon snow.)
*(They may have their sainted Golden Dome up Nawff, but we here in The Souff, more spee-cifically in Florida gots our High Holy Days coming up Saturday evening when Florida Finds Out What Florida State looks like come a-visitin’ their Swamp Cathedral. Since neither team – or school or booster club – sends me a check I am free from prejudice. All I want is a good ol’e game. No holdin’ now: jess play! You hear theat part about no-holdin’ now, misters Zee-bras. Keeps them flags in your pockets. I turn off the sound if I am too near a television and let Gene and Mick take alternating quarters on their respective radio stations. Sacramental hot-buttered popcorn and frosty beers in pre-froze big-mugs for wine.)