Cam Newton Has Bieber Fever

This week’s NFL champ is Auburn grad Cam Newton. 

Speaking of Auburn, I couldn’t be more proud of USA gold medalist Ryan Lochte and his decision to choose Auburn for a pretty ridiculous upset in the LSU vs. Texas A&M game on ESPN College GameDay. He gets confused when he’s dry. Stay hawt Lochte. 

Anyway, Cam Newton gets props this week because I’m hoping it sends him some good karma to stop the Panthers from playing like crap.

Fact, this quarterback actually started off his college career at the University of Florida. Better fact, he was arrested for stealing a laptop from another student. Even better in order to avoid being arrested he threw the laptop out of his dorm window when the cops showed up. Call up the FBI slick rick is making moves.

After Newton’s little run in with the law he transferred to good old Blinn College. Where’s Blinn College you ask? I have no fucking idea. Finally after some good old-fashioned football and keeping his record clean he ended up at Auburn before putting on his big boy pants, winning the 2010 Heisman Trophy, and heading to the NFL.

What’s Cam up to today? Just throwing around the old pigskin and wearing actual burlap sacks aaaaand jamming out to some Justin Bieber…

                         

-Brogina George 

Fall, Excuse Me...Autumn

         It’s time to say goodbye. Warm weather, we bid you farewell with heavy hearts. It’s time to let go of the sundresses, lax pinnies, day drinking on porches and everything that warm weather brings to our little oasis in Oxford. 
          This is a bittersweet goodbye, though. Saying bye to girls in white pants means welcoming girls in yoga pants. Saying adios to Corona and summer ales means cracking open Oktoberfests and Pumpkinheads. Girls go ape shit for fall, excuse me, Autumn, and making a chick’s day is easy (apple) pickins. Sure, we all have to put up with each other’s instagrams of dead leaves but I don’t care who you are, fall means pumpkin spice EVERYTHING and that’s good news. 
          Hard to find too much to complain about when football is in full swing, hockey is starting up (College hockey at least. Fuck you, Gary Bettman) and the number of guys wearing sandals is going down. Now I'm just waiting for someone to get injured because they thought jumping off a roof into a leaf pile was a good idea. "No, guys, I GOT THIS." -Don Vito Broleone

How many pictures EXACTLY like this will we see? Setting the over/under at 300

          Sup betches, Don Vito covered pretty much everything for the bros. However, ladies, we have a few extra things we unfortunately have to say goodbye to during the fucking freezing winter months. First, say goodbye to using summer as an excuse to have shameless and/or meaningless summer flings. Say hello to boyfriend season. For those of us that choose this route, snag a man who isn't gonna suck to be with through Green Beer Day. Say goodbye to wine wednesdays with your girls because we'll either all be stuck shotgunning with our boys (not exactly complaining...yet) or big spooning a bottle of jack after a night as a fifth wheel at piano man. 

         But don't cry into your pumpkin spice latte just yet because you have a fucking pumpkin spice latte and that is nothing to ugly cry about. I won't even complain about the endless stream of Starbucks cups on my instagram feed because I am just as excited for those empty liquid calories. I don't wanna hear any of you bros complain about broads' overwhelming enthusiasm for autumn because you are all reaping the delicious benefits of our pumpkin and apple cider-centric baking compulsions. 

          My last complaint is about how the fuck to dress in this weather. I wake up with chattering teeth and bundle up like I'm a god damn eskimo and by the afternoon I've shed like three layers. My Tory Burch riding boots, Burberry scarf and J.Crew quilted vest were totes great decisions at 9 in the morning, but if it gets warmer during the day, there is def not enough room in my Vineyard Vines tote to lug that shit around (and I REFUSE to be "that bitch" who knocks into everyone in Dividends with her obnoxiously over-stuffed bag).

          But whatever, I'm stoked for fall and all of it's bullshit. Summer, you will be missed but I have to move on. So farewell, bikinis. So long, slip’n’slides. Hello, Halloween. Bring on the beer jackets. -Lindsay Brohan 

GEMS: To The Face

          My intent is to highlight an NFL player of the week each post however this couldn’t be ignored. Ian Rapoport deserves a little attention ladies and gents. This is good old Ian’s first season with the NFL network, and I have to say I’m impressed. After getting bopped in the face with a football on live television he handles himself like a total pro..

Did we just see that football Ian? Yes. We saw it. 

          I told you to check out the Texans vs. Packers. Betch don’t lie. Anyway on a lighter note here are some ridiculous NFL moments to make Monday feel a little less like a semi-invasive procedure. 

Peace and Blessings.

-Brogina George 

J.J. Watt: Buck as F#*$

         If you have a wiener and own a television chances are you’ve been tuning in to all the NFL action this season. (Especially with this NHL lockout going on…don’t even get me started.) More importantly you’ve probably noticed stud J.J. Watt absolutely tearing it up on the Texans. 

         As a lover of the New York Jets I love to hate this giant piece of man meat after he single handedly delivered us a loss, but that’s not all J.J. delivers. Apparently back in the day he used to be a pizza delivery boy. Saucy. 

         This Wisconsin boy born and raised is the real deal folks. This 6 ft 6in NFL Frankenstein weighs in at about 295 lbs. What else you might ask? This first round pick has mad ups…

         Fucked up right? This cyborg is a fuggin gem. Check out J.J. Watt and the Texans this Sunday at 8:20 PM ET when they take on the goddamn Packers. (Nothing grinds my gears more than those stupid effing foam cheese hats.) 

Peace and blessing sluts.

-Brogina George 

An Open Letter to ESPN

Dear ESPN,

            I think we should see other people. It’s not me, it’s you. I stayed faithful despite your ignorance of hockey. I still tuned in even when your one-track mind obsessed over Brett Favre and Tim Tebow. Fuck, I stayed even when you manufactured reasons to still talk about Tebow. I could honestly go on for days about what’s wrong with you (Rachel Nichols, cough) but I’ll spare you. 

          Now, however, you’ve gone too far. You've hired Frank fucking Caliendo to Sunday Countdown. That has to be a joke, right? Wrong. ESPN hired a goddamn COMEDIAN to an analysis/coverage show. When Caliendo is inevitably horrible at his new job, no one should be surprised because he sucked at his old gig too. I’d rather watch the creepy blue suit, bearded fantasy football guy’s commercials on loop than see Caliendo take bad twitter-esque (bad jokes in bad taste) commentary behind an ESPN desk.

            How can ESPN get away with this bullshit? They’re the only ones in the business. ESPN is king in the sports world. NBC is trying to horn in on the action with the NBC Sports Network but unless you love hockey and cycling exclusively, then you’ll be flipping to ESPN eventually. So who am I kidding? I will inevitably come crawling back to Scott Van Pelt (One of the few ESPN guys who I legitimately respect and enjoy) and Sage Steele. I will undoubtedly check Adam Schefter’s twitter feed for breaking football news and I will still turn on Sports Center every morning (because everyone knows that blue Powerade and Sports Center is the best hangover cure). Even though every major sports league’s television network does an infinitely better job, I will stay faithful to ESPN because I am a college student (re: baller on a budget). 

          So I’ll cling to your 30 for 30’s and your “This is Sports Center” ads and remember the good old days. I’ll hold on to the web gems and memories of Erin Andrews on the sidelines every fall Saturday. I’m ashamed of what you’ve turned me into, of how you treat me. So I’ll see you tonight, ESPN, probably after midnight when you are my only option. Please be gentle. 

-Don Vito Broleone