Lou Piniella has Sampled Grass

News broke that Cubs’ catcher and reigning Rookie of the Year, Geovany Soto, tested positive for weed during the World Baseball Classic. Getting caught for a little toke while your baseball peers are getting nabbed for injecting their asses with horse steroids is analogous to getting a ticket for jaywalking during a Detroit Pistons championship riot.

I am not fully certain why this is a story. I am pretty sure it was common knowledge that Manny Ramirez stored a 10 foot water bong inside the Green (get it?! GREEN!) Monster during his days in Boston. Athletes have a lot of time on their hands and you can only play so many video games sober before wanting to spice things up a bit. The obvious enhancement is a little cooked lettuce.

Lou Piniella, the manager of the Cubs, sympathized with his star catcher saying, “Look, I have smoked dope one time in my life. And it didn't do a damn thing for me, and I never tried it again. I'm fortunate because of that. A lot of people do. You can even buy it in California from a pharmacy. (Ed. Note: In an unrelated story, dozens of Dominican players have requested trades to the Giants, A’s, Angels, Dodgers, Padres, and even the WNBA’s LA Sparks. Developing…) I do know young people make mistakes at times and learn from mistakes. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life personally, and I've learned from them.”

Lou's Lessons Learned (LLL):

- Never play for Billy Martin.

- Never tell Mickey Mantle he’s had too much to drink.

- Pot does nothing. Direct your funds at strippers and blow.

- George Steinbrenner likes being called “Big Georgey”

Someone also needs to tell Lou that you need to smoke more than once to get the full effect (or so I’ve heard). I never had Lou pegged as a quitter.

Soto has been mired in a sophomore slump (Slumpbuster? Yes please!) all season and Lou seems to think it has something to do with the guilt he has been carrying for roasting a spliff. If I were Lou, I’d stay late in the clubhouse after a game with Soto, flip on Pink Floyd “Dark Side of the Moon”, smoke out his locker, and just get weird with him. Boy, would I be a kickass manager.

Let's go on the Disabled List...

The Perfect Gift for your Alcoholic College Football Fan

I have a birthday coming up this week. With age typically comes wisdom and maturity, but there is only one thing I want for my birthday – the Stadium Sippin’ Seat. Cheers to our friends at Papa Bert’s for their latest innovation in the realm of thwarting the oppressive prohibition that is tainting collegiate sporting events. You see, the NCAA doesn’t like the notion of selling alcohol at its games. Just ignore the hoards of beer and liquor advertisements that you are subjected to during any college football telecast. Those don’t count.

Everyone – young and old – likes to imbibe on Saturdays in the fall. Why, I recall my pirate days as an adolescent lad at Colorado State games where a little Captain and Coke gave me the courage to mouth off to college dudes twice my size. Alcohol is an important ingredient in the diet of an overly-obsessed football fan. I’d say it is tantamount to tailgate meat smorgasbords and shady booster donating.

Sneaking booze into a college football game is not only a necessity, but it also brings back that youthful, rebellious yearning for a buzz that was present when you were 17, but has slowly been replaced by a physiological dependency on the sauce in your elder years that both fuels and medicates you through a rollercoaster football season controlled by mere 18 and 19 year olds. Healthy lifestyle, indeed. For a measly six Saturdays every year, you receive a free pass for being loaded before 10am. You better make the most of it.

After approximately 8-12 hours of tailgating (depending on kickoff time) complete with pounds of meat and copious allotments of booze, the only sensible thing to do is to take the party inside the stadium. This is where the aforementioned friends from Papa Bert’s have carved out a lucrative niche. There are the standard old school methods of sneaking in a flask like having your date tape a flask to her inner thigh. This is the most recommended practice for your collegiate days with cute girls.

After graduation, it is time to be a little more discreet and “mature”. This is where the Stadium Sippin’ Seat comes in handy. Appearing as just your standard, novelty seat cushion often toted by hemorrhoid-clad senior citizen alums, the Sippin’ Seat offers an inner-bladder system that even NASA would be proud of. The Seat can hold approximately two beers, one bottle of wine, or 20 shots. I wasn’t a Math major, but the alcohol by volume choice here seems to be pretty easy. I drink two beers when I brush my teeth. I don’t know who would bring wine to a football game other than those limp-wristed douchebags in the Pac 10. Thus, the easy answer is 20 shots of your favorite cheap whiskey. This is plenty of booze to help you celebrate a home team victory or comatose yourself in the event of a loss. The amount should last the duration of the game unless you are a LSU fan in which case multiple cushions full of Everclear are recommended.

You can believe that this Editor in Chief will be comfortably sitting on top of 20 shots of Evan Williams when his Ags struggle this fall against (gulp) the non-drinkers of Baylor. See you in the stands.

Another Distraction in Badassery

The baseball world had another bi-monthly steroid colonoscopy this week when the startling news surfaced that Sammy Sosa may have had a little juice boost when he and Mark McGwire were launching homeruns off stadiums’ third decks. The sports world hasn’t happened upon a piece of news this startling since we found out that Billie Jean King was into chicks. (Ed. Note: apologies to my lesbian readers. Lesbian jokes in back-to-back posts is insensitive).

Roids? Nah.

Butch? Nah.

The news that everyone already knew about Sosa shooting up Mexican donkey show drugs brings us to another episode of “Distraction in Badassery”. Cubs’ fans can be an insufferable bunch. It’s hip to love the Cubs. It’s fun being the “lovable loser”. Its fun moving to Chicago, living in the largely gay and overpriced Wrigleyville neighborhood, and declaring yourself a lifelong Cubs fan. I think there are eight kids from my high school that did this. If the Cubs ever stumble into a World Series championship their fans won’t know what to do with themselves. They groveled and played the victim for so long as the “storied franchise that can’t catch a break” that their fans might turn into… wait for it… Red Sox fans.

Jimmy Fallon in the cinematic gem "Fever Pitch"

I am not condemning the organization itself. It’s hard to crack on a franchise that spawned the likes of Ron Santo, Billy Williams, Ernie Banks, Andre Dawson and Ryne Sandberg. It is also hard to rip on a franchise that gave microphone carte blanche to a half-wit alcoholic in Harry Carey. Before the days of Sosa knocking beisbols out of Wrigley with corked bats, there was an old-school badass holding down first base by the name of Mark Eugene Grace.

Gracey was a fixture in the Cubs’ (and later Diamondbacks) lineup for over a decade. The guy collected doubles the way Kirstie Alley collects cellulite (Ed. Note: KA is a slumpbuster. Keep reading!). As his career progressed and modern training methods for athletes such as yoga, flexibility, and sobriety became commonplace, Grace stuck to his roots. While many players traveled with personal trainers and masseuses on the road, Grace was vocal about his post game routine of a steam, a cigarette, and a Budweiser. Grace wasn’t wearing batting gloves when wearing batting gloves was cool. Grace used enough pine-tar to kill an Austrian forest. Grace once shoved an apple in the mouth of an opposing team’s bat boy and smoke-cooked him in his backyard. In short, Mark Grace was John Wayne in baseball spikes. Let’s take a gander at some of the legendary quotes from Gracey over the years…

On the feeling of playing in and winning a World Series, October 2001... "If you only understood how great this is for me. It was better than anything I could've imagined. It is better than sex. But then again, I'm kind of lousy at that."

On the accuracy of his bobblehead doll, given away at Bank One Ballpark on August 18, 2001... "I'm a pretty ugly guy, and it's a pretty ugly doll, so I think they did of good job of capturing my likeness."

On the definition of a "slumpbuster", after being pressed by to clarify the baseball slang term... "A slumpbuster is when you have to take one for the team. It's finding the biggest, nastiest, fattest broad, and you put the wood to her to come out of your slump. Also known as 'jumping on a grenade for the team'."

Hey Kirstie! Mark has been in a bit of a slump at the plate. Free tonight?

Send all proceeds to the Mark Grace Slump Busting Fund

Would this badass be friends with A-Rod? Hell and No. Would he be the Best Man at Ben Franklin’s wedding? You’re damn right.

Some media outlets are assessing the Hall of Fame credibility of Sammy Sosa. How this is even up for discussion is beyond me. He’s out with Clemens and company. Make room for more guys like Mark Grace who’s Major League career matched his remarkable personality. Cheers to you, badass.

Rockies Register a Pulse

Denver sports fans,

I know we are all still licking the wounds from our beloved (read: bandwagon) Nuggets’ road to the Western Conference Finals. I, for one, loved watching those tatted-up, borderline convicts (Colorado has diversity!) represent our state against the notorious bad teammate and date-raper, Kobe Bryant.

After such a letdown, you are surely loading up the Subaru, tying down the kayak, and seeking your inner-tranquility in a tourist-free locale outside of Durango. Nuggets Basketball and Elitist Mountaineering – that’s what Colorado does.

"We summer with our dog, Indigo, in Montrose. Durango is too commercial."

Coloradoans love a tattooed recovering drug addict who averages 6 points per game.

I’ve penned enough words for ten off-seasons on the Buffalo Billian collapse of our once proud franchise, the Denver Broncos. In case you just woke up from your bong slumber, we have a cocky Halo geek coaching a team with a neck-bearded alcoholic for a quarterback, a domestic “disturber” who wants out at receiver, and a defense that is more porous than a French Coast Guard.

Speaking of the French, the French Canadians running the once-dominant Avalanche have all been ousted after turning the franchise into bigger collective pussy than the entire province of Quebec (not an easy feat).

While you were jumping on the Nugs bandwagon, liking Carmelo Anthony again, and asking your black neighbor if he was friends with Chauncey, our little favorite beisbol boys in purple at 20^th and Blake Street were busy imploding at the expense of a manager who took the Colorado F’IN Rockies to the World Series less than two years ago.

I’m a big Clint Hurdle guy. I like a guy with a consistent reddish hue in his face from years of road trips, cigars, and an insatiable appetite for Wild Turkey. It’s hard to be a good manager and not love booze. These spoiled brats you manage with guaranteed contracts control your livelihood. There is a reason Joe Madden of Tampa Bay didn’t win the Series last year. He looks like an English professor from Portland. Clint had the look.

A Badass Mickles O'Codyhan would be proud of. Go Royals.

"Yeah, it's a sole patch, and yeah I ordered a triple Turkey on the rocks."

Nevertheless, the team continued its alarming regression after the 2007 Series, and the Rockies pink-slipped Hurdle. Enter Jim Tracy on an interim basis. Tracy was added as a bench coach before the season as a low-risk insurance option if Clint had to be axed (even though that stuff is never announced). Tracy has strong pedigree and did a bang-up job with the Dodgers in the early 00’s. Since taking over the skipper hat a few weeks back, the Rockies have gone 13-4 and are riding an 11 game winning streak.

This ain't American League Managing. Decisions are made.

The pitching staff stopped lobbing batting practice for the first time all season and guys not named Helton and Hawpe began to show up at the plate. How much of the credit is owed to Tracy is hard to say. I’ve always felt that managers are very interchangeable with the exception of the very elites. Either your players suck or they don’t. What I do think happened is that this batch of Rockies truly loved their red-faced Uncle Clint. The Rockies currently own the most homegrown (WEED!) starting lineup in baseball. These guys all made the transition at the age of 18 from oppressive, overbearing biological fathers to the fostering of recovering party-catcher Clint Hurdle. There was a real bond. The Rockies' players felt responsible for the managerial death of Uncle Clint and wanted to offer him a homage (albeit far too late and after execution).

Let’s take a look at the key cogs in this recent streak:

Troy Tulowitzki

Tulo is beloved in Denver. He had a massive rookie year in the legendary run to the Series and exemplifies a big glove and Elway-ian competitive spirit. Unfortunately, that Elway spirit directed Tulo to the Napoleon/Dustin Pedroia School of swing hard and play like the world hates you. Obviously, this works for Pedroia, but Tulo has more raw talent in his taint than Pedroia has in his whole body. Yeah, I said it. Tulo was gripping too hard and the pressure he was putting on himself was alarming. Tulo’s game needs a lot of work, but if you can get Adkins and Troy to hit just a few hairs above .200, the team is going to win some more games.

Aaron Cook

The Ownership Brothers Monfort (or OBM as I refer to them by) should be thanking their lucky Greeley goat that Cook either gets injured or gets cold for minor stretches every year. Why you ask? Because Cook has legitimate value and is underpaid at $9+ million a year. If you put Cook in San Diego for a season his ERA would drop at least 0.5 points and the win total would jump. Cook keeps the ball low, has a great sinking fastball, and quietly manages a game as well as you can at the Coors Carnival. Further tip of the hat goes to Pitching Coach, Bob Apodaca, for his adjustments to Cook’s delivery.

Jason Hammel

Hammel hails from Treasure Valley Community College (look it up) where he majored in Stripper Management (TVCC is renowned for their Exotic Studies Department). Hammel turned down a lucrative career in female exploitation for a shot at becoming a big league pitcher. After floundering for a few seasons in Tampa in front of crowds of family members and ushers, Hammel loaded up the Cadillac El Dorado for Denver. The 6’6” righty has been herpes-hot of late winning four of his last five starts (with one no-decision). If baseball doesn’t work out for Jason, he can always fall back on that priceless TVCC degree.

It’s hard to say if the Rockies have really turned the corner. The offense is dripping with promise, but the pitching is largely comprised beer league softballers. Ownership and GM O’Dowd have the next month to observe and see if this team can actually make a run at the 2009 Wild Card (Let’s hope the Brothers Monfort go on a binge and aren’t included on decision making). If the team begins to stumble, these are the surest names to get moved: Street, Corpas, Spilborghs, Adkins.

Coloradoans, now is a good time to load up the Prius and take your unathletic, sure-to-be-gay son, Hollis, to his first baseball game. Soak in the Colorado sun and maybe catch a Rockies win. Cutler is gone and Brandon Marshall is asking for a trade. Without the Rockies, sports are essentially dead in your city until the Nuggets make a false-hoped run at the 2010 title next April (you won’t watch the regular season).

Profile Your School: University of Texas

What’s in a School?

At Dante’s Mullet, we like to take a look at what makes a college or university unique. This information can prove invaluable perspective to aspiring high school students when choosing a college. These features won’t cover the typical information and garbage your guidance counselor spews. God knows that had I been privileged to some of this information I wouldn’t have wasted time applying to schools like Kansas State. Mediocre athletics, women that double as livestock, and only an hour from Topeka? Sign me up!

Dante’s Mullet will summon guest lecturers for assessments on their own alma maters or even a school they just despise. This entry comes from Professor Campies of Austin, Texas. Professor Campies is a Texas Ex and routinely confuses his google searches between “18 year old fullback”, “18 year old scotch”, and “18 year old full frontal”. Most of the following literature induced me into a violent vomit session, but we try to present both sides to the story. Like CNN and TuPac. Without further adieu…

School: The University of Texas at Austin

Location: Austin, Texas

Mascot: Longhorn. This 1,200 lb ranch steer named Bevo is the pride of the state, and the most menacing creature that doesn’t have testicles this side of an 1800’s sex offender.

Notable alumni (Non-Athletic): The list includes the likes of Denton A. Cooley, First Lady “Lady Bird” Johnson, former 1955 Playmate of the Month Jayne Mansfield, and actors Luke and Owen Wilson, Matthew Mconaughey, and Rene Zellweger.

Leading lady(s): : The Texas Pom Squad.

What is the douche factor of the Greek system?Compared to other Texas institutions like Baylor, TCU, and SMU, the UT Greek scene is middle of the pack-douchey.Compared to a school like Texas A&M though, where the fraternity scene is about as popular as a Jehovah’s Witness at a rave, UT corners the market on douchebag frat guys that you want to punch in the throat passing on campus with flying colors. Particularly known for their doucheness are the brothers from fraternities Sigma Alpha Epsilon, Sigma Phi Epsilon, and a handful of crazy Asian frats. Nothing racial insinuated about the latter; it’s just for some reason, these guys get to college with an overbearing-mother complex that is quick to be expounded with as much Jager and fight nights as possible.

Chick summary: When it comes to quality and quantity of tanned, Texas talent that UT brings in droves every year, there are only a handful of places in the world in which you could better surround yourself. Last time I checked, Iceland doesn’t have any universities in the continental U.S. That being said, for All-American lads looking for a prospective wife, horny adolescents that have enough cognition to bypass Texas State, or just flat-out creepers, the quality and diversity which is the University of Texas’ female population is almost unrivaled.I’ve been to schools in the SEC and on the West-Coast, and while those places definitely have their place on a top 10 list, for shear numbers and ladies of quality, UT is peerless.

Every hero forgets something in their tool belt. What does this school lack? For the innumerable resources and advantages that come with going to a school Texas, there are a few nitpicks.First, the size. With over 50,000 students enrolled at any given year, competition is such that many a small-town high school prodigies have come to Texas to flat-out fall on their face. This is a demanding academic environment, and the social community is not setup to be conducive to special needs kids (read: pussies). The other prob is the intercampus parking and traffic system has often been compared to trying to drive a semi through downtown Tokyo. As part of UT’s Master Plan, though, they are in the process of overhauling the infrastructure which would make the inner part of campus a primarily walk-only environment.

Best football player of all time: I’m going to give the nod to Vince Young as Best Football Player of All Time, notwithstanding his current struggles in the pro game. (Ed. Note: “struggles” can be defined as suicidal thoughts, selfishness, dancing shirtless at clubs with dudes, and backing up a guy named Kerry). As far as dominating collegiate players go, for a highlighted position such as quarterback, and the hurdles that were scaled en route to the 2005 National Championship not to mention the sheer excitement from watching his games, no one restored pride and swagger to UT football like VY.

Best current football player: Colt McCoy has transitioned from a plus-level athlete from an ant-hill town in West Texas, to arguably the greatest quarterback this University has ever produced, and one of the best in the last 20 years of the college game.Yeah, I said it. And yes, that includes Vince Young he would beat out. Obviously, McCoy still has games left to play, so it’s unfair to fully judge him on his legacy. However, if he continues on his current trajectory, he will shatter every passing and wins record by a quarterback at Texas, as well as have a serious shot at a Heisman Trophy and National Championship before his time in Austin is done. Add the fact that he’s a tremendous leader, and loves Jesus, and you’ve got the ultimate Tony Robins story(Ed. Note: Dr. Campies, college football can only handle one Jesus at a time and he currently baptizes in Gainesville. Colt is like Martin Luther or Joel Osteen).

Y.M.C.A.

Describe the current state of the football program via song: “Let the Good Times Roll” – The Cars

Best college bar: For places close to campus, Cain and Abel’s is the best place to grab a beer or a Chi O. Trudy’s is another near-campus destination that specializes in outstanding Mexican food and lethal Mexican martinis. The most popular destination for college kids and young professionals alike though is historic 6^th street, a 2 mile stretch of downtown real estate with more bars than even an ADD Irish-Catholic could make it through in a night. (Ed. Note:It’s true! I tried!). Hot spots like Maggie Mae’s, the Blind Pig, Logan’s and 311 are the places to hit for stiff drinks and fast women. Not of the skanky variety; talking classy broads, you know. If you’re a novice or a post adolescent with a fake ID, you’ll make the mistake of going to gimmicky shitholes like Treasure Island, Paradise, or Mooseknucke. Yeah, there’s actually a bar called that. Thankfully, it caters mostly to scantily-dressed coeds instead of the congregation its namesake might suggest. For a chill-spot of shuffleboard and foosball with enough projection screen TV’s to give Chip Douglas from The Cable Guy a hard-on, Buffalo Billiards is a great place when you’re not feeling like dancing to tribal music or being grinded by a sweaty deuce-and-a-quarter 30’s something looking to burn through her government check. Further down on West Sixth, the booming Austin real estate market has sprung up a host of upscale patio bars that are frequented mostly by grad students and brosephs with graphic tees. Honestly, I could write a dissertation about the Austin night life because it really is just that great, unparalleled in its scope and variety; everything a growing alchie needs.

Musical tastes of the student body: When it comes to music, UT = Austin; anything and everything, and the best of what each has got. The live music scene caters to new-age rock, folk, and Texas country, but the limits of finding a show of your choice, regardless of category, has more to do with your ability to navigate a Google search than what Austin might not have.Music legends Lyle Lovett, Stevie Ray Vaughn and Willie Nelson first called Austin home, as well as trendy newer guys like Bob Schneider, Monte Montgomery, etc who can be still be seen regularly.

Alcohol preference of the student body: UT is certainly home to its share of differing drinking palettes. From a pure college evaluation though, cheap beer is still Lord of the Manor, and we college students consume it as quickly as the inflated fraternity party budgets allow. Natty Light and Keystone are the gold standard of the frat party scene, typically. This is most economical way to slake the thirst of several hundred drunk-ass brodies per party looking for some liquid courage to help them put the moves on that deece-looking blonde from their Comm school classes.These tabs can run high, as a typical large frat party at UT will include around 150 cases of the good stuff. Beyond frat parties, the housing scene will vary with cultural habits of its throwers, but you can almost always expect a healthy quantity of empty Jim Beam handles and SKYY vodka littering a rich prick’s security-deposit-Armageddoned kitchen.

Drugs? Unfortunately (or fortunately), UT has been ranked by several publications as one of America’s “most stoned schools,” meaning there is a healthy dose of weed, ice, boom, pow, etc, wherever you look. I’d like to dispute these claims based on personal empiricism, as I never had any encounters with people doing hard drugs despite my extensive searches for the best parties. That being said, being widely considered the most-liberal university in the state, with a healthy content of Obama-wanking hippies, marijawanna is never far from reach. However, the large contingency of us God-fearing, Texas-born conservative boys keep those tree huggers on a pretty good leash. Until we want to smoke some weed.

Compare your basketball program to a current country: India. Much like the Chinese, India has its share of vast wealth in some areas and huge resources; however, it has always been sandbagged by the ruins that are the impoverished population majority. Texas basketball has historically been seen as a second-class citizen to Longhorns Football, very much like the Hindu-driven caste system that has oppressed the populace for centuries.Everyone knew there could be so much more success to be had, but up until recently, that had only been a pipe dream. With the 21^st century Indian economy now booming in a way like never before, however, equate that to what happened to Texas basketball in 1998 when Rick Barnes took over the reigns. At that time the program was in disarray, with a beleaguered alcoholic coach on his way out the door and capping off a 15 year period so littered with ups and downs it would make a bi-polar schizophrenic seem even keeled. Enter Rick Barnes, and the writing is on the wall. 11 seasons- 11 NCAA tournament appearances, 5 Sweet 16’s, 2 Elite 8’s, and 1 Final Four. In addition to that, the ‘Horns under Barnes have won 3 Big 12 titles, and produced 10 NBA draft picks during a 10 year period, including Players of the Year T.J. Ford and Kevin Durant. Barnes’ 72.6% winning percentage and 247 wins are the best marks in school history. With a recruiting prowess that currently rivals any program in the nation, and top-flight facilities that could lay claim to best overall (Ed. Note: Easy, Doctor. Amazing practice facilities, but that arena is like the hollow, tattered nether regions of a Lubbokian cougar), the burnt orange machine for Texas Basketball keeps rolling, and a huge credit goes to the sometimes underappreciated, yet vastly deserving, Barnes.

Best basketball player of all time: T.J. Ford, Sugarland Willowridge. When Ford, a McDonald’s All-American point guard, committed to Barnes in 2001, Texas basketball was at best an after- thought in the minds of the elite high school players around the country and state. After Ford leading Texas to the Final Four in 2003, all that changed. If you never saw this guy play in college, you don’t know what you were missing. Fans and foes alike were agag (Ed. Note: agag?Definition, please) at his ridiculous speed and quickness with the ball in his hands, ability to make his teammates better, and a level of overall athleticism that could be said to be Bo Jackson-esque. I’ll never forget the game against Baylor(Ed. Note: Baylor?! Holy Hell!)in 2003 when Ford, at 5’10 in stilettos, followed a missed 3 point shot with a put-back dunk over a host of power forwards. It was one of those plays you had to watch a few times just to believe it really happened. Long-live T.J. Ford- the Texas Basketball Genesis.

Best current basketball player: I’ll go with incoming freshman, and McDonald’s All-American guard Avery Bradley.Bradley is a 6’3 combo guard who can absolutely fly with the ball and will dunk on you like Lebron (Ed. Note: Hyberbole? Nah). His shot is pretty damn reliable to0, and the fact that he is a tenacious defender just makes fans giggle like an 11 year old on a date with Zac Effron. The future looks bright.Stay thirsty, my friends….

I might go to this school because… It is one of the best educations you can get at a public school anywhere in the world, hands down. From a state ranking hierarchy, notwithstanding Rice’s emphasis on engineering and dudes that have never kissed a girl, Texas is the cream of the crop. Hands down. Do NOT let any one from A&M tell you differently. There is no comparison (Ed. Note: no academic biases here. Move along). A&M is a fantastic school, but at BEST, it has 2 or 3 programs that can legitimately compare with what UT has to offer. Throw in the athletics, ladies, and Austin, and it’s second to none.

This school might end up kind of sucking because…Impossible. In other news, objects cannot travel faster than the speed of light.

Mount Rushmore of the school: BEVO, McConaughey, VY, Turd Ferguson