And Now for Something Completely Different

It’s football time in Tennessee, but let us not speak of the Vols.  Let us remember instead the Music City Miracle, which I didn’t catch live since I was 9 months pregnant with twins and either asleep in the bathtub or passed out in the bed (I can’t remember which).  I can remember being awoken to watch the replay, though, and I must say it was almost worth it.  I caught it again tonight on the Top Ten Most Amazing Touchdowns Ever in the History of the Mankind or Something (it was #2), and it’s worth revisiting.  It comes in at #4 in the clip above, starting at 0:48.  Watch and learn, Phil Motherfucking Fulmer.

Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to go lick this screen:

Pussymouth: Official Facial Hair of the South

Not bad, huh?  Except for one little thing (permahat aside): that pussymouth has got to go.  I’ve watched the epidemic spread across Dixie, and last week at my mom’s house I reached my breaking point when I realized she’d married a goatee man.  My step dad has one.  My dad has one.  Tim McGraw has one.  I fear that I saw my illicit lover, Tennessee Titans head coach Jeff Fisher, sporting one during pre-season training the other day.  Why, oh why do Southern men feel the need to sport a pussy on their face?  I’m intrigued, I’m horrified, I’m embarrassed for all of them, and I must know how this happened.  If anyone has the answer, come find me.  I’ll be in the garage with a Coors Light, admiring a real man turn a hunk of metal into a gleaming hot rod.  He’s got a clean, close shave, and if he wants a pussy on his face, he’ll get it the old fashioned way, thank you very much.