Sunday, May 11, 2008
Saturday, May 3, 2008
So Long Perrilloux!

You committed to me one sunny day
Flashed those big brown eyes my way
And oo I wanted you four years or more
Now I'm not one that gets around
I swear my feet stuck to the ground
But I never met a dumb ass like you before
I said "So long Perrilloux
Goodbye heart
Sweet Perrilloux
I was so in love with you
I knew Perrilloux
We'd have to part
So so long Perrilloux
Goodbye heart"
I heard your excuses from your own voice
But believe me I just had no choice
My wranglers couldn't make you stay away
I thought about a moonlit night
Your arms around a poor guys neck good an' tight
That's all I had to see for me to say
I said "So Long Perrilloux
Goodbye heart
Sweet Perrilloux
I was so in love with you
I knew Perrilloux
We'd have to part
So so long Perrilloux
Goodbye heart
Sunday, April 6, 2008
THIS IS EAST LANSING!!!!
Posted by
Mike Pigott
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1:39 PM
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Labels: “The learning process is something you can incite a riot.”
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Ok. We'll throw in the new asshole free of charge.
- Henry Ford forgot to put a reverse gear on his first automobile.
- Albert Einstein's parents were told he might be mentally retarded.
- Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team.
- Elvis Presley didn't make the glee club.
- Napoleon finished near the bottom of his military school class.
- The Beatles were turned down for a recording contract by Decca Records.
- John Grisham's first novel was rejected by sixteen agents and a dozen publishers.
...but when a person goes in for a leg surgery and then walks out with a new turd cutter, you have entered a whole new level.
Note to readers: Don't get shit done medically in Germany. If you absolutely must, get them to take this quiz first and then this one second.
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
4:03 PM
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Labels: “A man's errors are his portals of discovery.” - James Joyce
Great Moments In Futility: #22

A call is placed concerning an armed robbery at Krispy Kreme. The dispatcher interrupted the caller and asked, "Wait. You mean Lt. Thompson isn't there?"
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Mike Pigott
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11:24 AM
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Thursday, March 20, 2008
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Fuck You, Ron Mexico!
This all leads to the fact that Herpes Simplex 7, aka Michael Vick, was indicted for dog fighting. My belief is that if you fight dogs, roosters, or whatever, it displays your unique character trait of being to much of a pussy to fight another human for money. When it comes to HS7, I'm not surprised at all. This is a guy who will not stay in the pocket and take a hit to complete a pass, yet he loves to exorcise his fear of pain by inflicting it upon another living entity. He runs for self preservation but will not allow his "fighters" the same opportunity. Imagine if Don King hung, shot, beat to death, or drowned every fighter that didn't display the aggressiveness needed or just lost.

Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
8:25 AM
1 Ramblings
Monday, July 16, 2007
Mike. A Portrait of a Non-Profit Gigalo.
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
8:33 PM
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Ramblings
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
It Would Be A Great One!

We'll bring ours.

You guys bring stories of your worst coach.

We'll bring stories of ours.

You bring your fans.

We'll bring ours.
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
8:17 PM
2
Ramblings
I'm Back From The Noble Amos Runner Hotel And Resort
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
8:41 AM
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Ramblings
Sunday, June 24, 2007
The Time Has Come To Stop Saving Them With More Of Us Dying...Or Worse!
As a high schooler, Briseno liked the Discovery Channel and CSI, and wanted to be a forensic scientist or investigator. He was 20 years old, attending George Mason University, when he was called up from the reserves and sent to war.
Posted by
Mike Pigott
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8:25 PM
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Ramblings
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Oh No They Didn't!
Coach Spurrier contacts his recruits whenever he can, you know, during visitation hours, conjugal visits, parole hearings, and early release dates. The hell with when the NCAA wants him to!Will Schrutebag call USC-lite a bunch of cheaters? I mean, this qualifies them as repeat offenders as they are still on probation. It reads like they were doing the same thing everyone else was doing. Yet Schrutebag keeps on with the bitching and moaning about how Alabama and Nick Saban have to be cheating. As long as it is anybody other than Alabama, Cowherd is putting his lips to the mushroom tips of all other coaches' dicks. Here's a typical "anybody other than the Alabama coach" interview:
Coach Carroll: Thanks for giving me an opportunity to be on to address these Reggie Bush accusations, Colin.
Summer's Eve: No no! Thank you! Should I caress your balls of greatness clockwise or counter?
or
Coach Weis: Thanks for allowing me some time to clear up the rumors and innuendo surrounding the incoming Son of Zeus, Jimmy Clausen.
Massengill: Oh please! Talk all you want for I will be breathing out of my nose for the next 15 minutes as I attempt to pleasure an offensive MENSA member!
In an unrelated story, CC lost a bet to his assistant in a foot race. He pulled a Barbaro at the end and was forced to get a tattoo to let everyone know who his Daddy is.
Posted by
Mike Pigott
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5:47 PM
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Labels: Deepthroat can be heard every weekday from 9 am to 12 pm CDT.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
When They Explain To Me What Caused The Ice Age, I'll Start To Believe In This Global Warming Shit!
First it was the leaded gasoline's fault. So it was phased out but the smog is still here. Hey, you don't so much as raise you're fucking patchouli soaked hands when parts of Europe, Middle East, and Asia still use leaded gasoline. You don't have the balls to go put a daisy in the gas nozzle of those guys, do you? No, it's America's fault. Great work fellas!
Then it was the hair spray's fault. So we got rid of aerosol cans and you were happy because you never used it on your blond Caucasian dreadlocks anyway. Yet, it still got warmer. Yippy fucking skippy, you fucking hippie!
Then it was El Nino's fault but since you couldn't regulate nature, you just waited it out. Did anyone try to take care of ANY of the other problems in this country while you waited? No. You just made a fuck-load of money off the .com boom. Greedy assholes.
Now, through some snappy PR and propaganda, you have figured out a way to blame the easiest target of all, us. Oh yeah, it has to be our fault. It can't be a cycle, much like EVERYTHING else we know about nature. Nope, we fucking humans are just ass raping the planet.
Here is my suggestion. If you think it's too hot down on the ground, move to the fucking top of a redwood tree. You have a real estate monopoly on those locations. It's probably a few degrees cooler up there anyway. Then you girls can braid your leg hair and you guys can build a nest for some endangered bird in your Grizzly Adams beard. Just be sure to do a little extra so you can pick up my slack because I am not changing shit that I do. Sorry for being an asshole but I just don't buy it.
So for all of you Ed Begley Jr.'s out there, will you please go and have a nice tall organically grown, non-animal tested, hybrid transported glass of SHUT THE FUCK UP?!?!
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
10:17 AM
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Ramblings
Labels: It's not getting THAT hot in here but you can still take off all your clothes.
Monday, June 18, 2007
My First Father's Day
- Have a nice sit down, candlelight dinner with Alabama's own "Arsenic Annie", Nannie Doss.
- Get repeatedly kicked in the nuts by Cung Le.
- Take some repelling classes with Owen Hart.
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
1:47 PM
1 Ramblings
Labels: Never raise your hand to your kids. It leaves your groin unprotected. - Red Buttons
Friday, June 15, 2007
Coach Saban's Daily Itinerary
4:01 AM - Fire secretary for mispelling ‘ITINERARY.’ Get security to go to her house, step in her garden, wake her ass up, get her to fix them breakfast. …. Then fire her.
4:02 AM - Watch the movie ‘Gladiator’ in 16X fast forward.
4:20 AM - Think about how much of a bitch Maximus is and how I could dominate his ass.
4:21 AM - Call Major. Tell him if he isn’t at my house in 5 minutes I will hire Chris Simms to do his job.
4:25 AM - Tell Major who he is recruiting today. Send him on the road with a cooler and a case of Red Bull. Tell him not to come back until he has a commitment from a 5-star.
4:26 AM - Call Kevin Steele. Ask him where the fuck are my 5-star D-line commits? Call him names. Hang up.
4:27 AM - Power nap.
4:28 AM - 3-mile jog.
4:29 AM - Play game of NCAA 07. Beat LSU 63-0. With Valdosta State.
5:00 AM - Think about how even EA sports makes Les Miles looks like a walking bobblehead doll.
5:01 AM - Call Mal. Ask him where the fuck is my bagel.
5:02 AM - Get bagel from Mal. Complain that it isn’t toasted enough. Slam door.
5:03 AM - Toast bagel with laser eyes, then eat it.
5:05 AM - Do whatever the hell I want for two-and-a-half hours.
7:36 AM - Wake up the daughter, tell her how much I love her, fix her breakfast, ask her how her school is going, pat her on the head, buy her a pony, kiss her on the forehead, telepathically threaten her boyfriend, and give her a ride to school.
7:39 AM: Wake up the wife.
7:39 - 10:39 AM - None of your business.
10:40 AM - Take 15-minute hot shower.
10:45 AM - Head to office.
10:50 AM - Prank-call Don Shula. Tell him that Nick Saban is looking to hire a new secretary and that if he ’s interested to email his resume to imadeyourentirefamilymybitch@hotmail.com. Do not disguise voice.
11:00 AM - Go to Mobile. Recruit my ass off.
11:50 AM - Go to Daphne. Recruit my ass off.
12:25 PM - Go to Louisiana. Take huge shit ... inside the LSU Football Complex. Use the bathroom in Miles’ office. Do not close door.
12:26 P.M. - Use bottled skunk scent to create the illusion that my shit actually stinks.
12:27 P.M. – Leave toilet un-flushed. Not to be rude. Just to remind everyone at LSU that it’s Nick Saban’s job to get shit done, and Les Miles’ job to take care of whatever Nick Saban leaves behind.
12:29 P.M. – Enter Auburn city limits. Inhale, then hold breath.
12:30 P.M. – Meet Tommy Tuberville for lunch. When waiter takes order, say “I’ll have what he’s having.” Wait for Tuberville to order something healthy. Then call him a pussy and order a double cheeseburger. With onion rings.
12:31 P.M. – Think of a better way to mess with Tuberville. Adjust time.
12:30 P.M. – Meet Tommy Tuberville for lunch. When waitress takes order, say ‘I’ll have what he’s having.’ Wait for Tuberville to order. When the waitress brings out my food, send it back. When the waitress brings out Tuberville’s food, eat it. All of it. Silently, and without using silverware. Stare Tuberville in the face the whole time. Do not talk. If waitress tries to approach table again, stare at her until she cries.
1:00 P.M. – Get up from table. Ask valet for Tuberville’s car keys. Do not tip.
1:01 P.M. – Get in car. Scroll through Tuberville’s iPod. Laugh at all the pussy music he has on it.
1:02 P.M. – Morph iPod into 1987 cassette tape of “Appetite for Destruction.” Blare it. Then hit the pedal.
1:03 – 1:29 P.M. – Hit as many Auburn fans’ mailboxes as possible. Swerve if necessary.
1:30 P.M. – Arrive at Auburn City Sheriff’s Office.
1:31 P.M. – Beat the shit out of Auburn City Sheriff. Do not tell him there is a new sheriff in town. That would be too expected. Instead, merely imply it by punching him repeatedly in the face and kidney.
1:32 – 1:54 P.M. – Hit as many Auburn fans’ pets as possible. Swerve if necessary.
1:55 P.M. – Drive to Bobby Lowder’s house. Park Tuberville’s car right next to Lowder’s wife’s car. Leave it there all night. But not before taking pictures.
1:56 P.M. – Slash both front tires. With index finger.
1:57 P.M. – Swallow keys. Hail cab.
1:58 P.M. – Exit Auburn city limits. Wait five minutes, then exhale.
1:59 P.M. – Arrive at gas station. Put on Armani suit. Smile. Ask attendant for bag of Redman chew. Do not pay for it.
2:00 P.M. – Go to SEC baseball tourney.
2:01 P.M. – Walk into batter’s box. Grab crotch. Hit pinch-hit HR. But not for Alabama. For whoever’s playing LSU.
2:02 P.M. – Point to scorekeeper. Tell him to just add the run, because Nick Saban doesn’t have time to run the bases.
2:03 P.M. – On way out of ballpark, spit chew in LSU batboy’s face. Make sure his eyes are open first.
2:04 P.M. - Get out cell phone. Make recruiting call to Julio Jones. Tell him that Nick Saban just hit a pinch-hit HR. In an Armani suit. Without rounding the bases. Hang up.
2:05 P.M. – Purchase phone-voice disguiser from the movie ‘Scream.’
2:06 P.M. – Call Major. Ask him how he is doing. Then ask him if Alabama recruited a 5-star QB this week. Then ask him if Alabama got a commitment from a 5-star QB this week. Then ask him if he enjoys the use of his thumbs.
2:07 P.M. – Fax letter to Dan Le Batard and the Miami-Herald Sports department. (^^^Coach’s correction^^^) - Fuck that. Nick Saban does not fax. -
2:07 P.M. – Have Secretary Shula fax letter to Dan Le Batard and the Miami-Herald Sports Dept. Letter to read as follows: “ATTN: Staff, Guys, I don’t know how else I can say this. I am going to beat the ever-living shit out of Dan Le Batard and the entire Miami-Herald Sports Department. - NICK SABAN”
2:08 P.M. – Catch the 2:15 flight to Miami.
3:00 P.M. – Beat the ever-living shit out of Dan Le Batard and the entire Miami Herald Sports Department. Not to show them that Nick Saban only gets violent when he feels like it. To show them that Nick Saban only keeps his word when he feels like it.
4:00 P.M. – Arrive back in Alabama. Call Real Estate Agent.
4:01 P.M. – 5:00 P.M. – Work with Real Estate agent. Buy every single movie theater, restaurant, shopping mall, outdoor park, fishing lake, and entertainment venue in the entire city of Auburn. Close them all down immediately. If real estate agent advises against the move, threaten his life. Then tell him it is not about making money. It is about making sure people in Auburn have nothing to take their minds off the fact that Nick Saban was just hired as the Head Coach of Alabama.
5:01 P.M. – 9:01 P.M. – Go into office. Work. Recruit. Dominate. Make up for otherwise slow day.
9:02 P.M. – Go home. Hug the wife. Wink. Smile. Spit mad game.
9:03 P.M. – 12:02 A.M. – None of your business.
12:03 A.M. – Call Mal. Ask him where the is my cigarette.
12:04 A.M. – Get cigarette from Mal. Complain that it isn’t lit. Slam door.
12:05 A.M. – Light cigarette with laser eyes. Then smoke it. Without filter.
12:06 A.M. – 1,000 sit-ups.
12:07 A.M. – 1,000 push-ups.
12:08 A.M. – 1,000 crunches.
12:09 A.M. – End warm-up period and begin hour-long evening workout.
12:39 A.M. – Complete hour-long evening workout.
12:40 A.M. – 1:00 A.M. – Watch 4 consecutive new episodes of ‘24’ using the DVR I stole from Lowder’s house.
1:01 A.M. – Think about how lucky Jack Bauer is for being fictional. Because if he weren’t, I would beat the shit out of him for copy-catting my personality.
1:02 A.M. – 1:12 A.M. – Watch entire replay of “De La Hoya-Mayweather” fight.
1:13 A.M. – Think about how much more one-sided the fight would have been if it were called “De La Hoya-Saban.”
1:14 A.M. – Put cell phone on silent. Not to go to sleep. To dodge repeated late-night desperation booty calls from Jessica Alba and Eva Longoria.
3:14 A.M. – After booty calls cease, send text message to both reminding them that Nick Saban only cheats at Monopoly.
3:15 A.M. – 3:29 A.M. – Practice future National Championship Game post-game speeches. All three of them.
3:30 A.M. – 4:00 A.M. – Catch good night’s sleep. Replace the counting of sheep with the kicking of puppies.
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
9:52 AM
4
Ramblings
Friday, April 13, 2007
Time To Be A Productive Fucking Citizen Again

Reality has set in. I'm not independently wealthy. This nugget of information has forced me back into the work force. Dammit! That's okay though. While I love writing here, the sad realization that we don't use seashells and other shit for currency requires that I take a two week hiatus from this. I will, upon my return, purchase a bitchin' new laptop to "keep up with the Joneses" on a more regular basis. You bastards have not heard the last of me or my admittedly lame ass breakdowns of Alabama football. Oh no!

I'm going to Louisiana, and get me a mojo hand - Lightning Hopkins
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
12:00 AM
3
Ramblings
Labels: I'm not crazy about reality but it's still the only place to get a decent meal. - Groucho Marx
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Is Hypocrisy The New Best Friend Of The African American Community?
The first time I heard what Don Imus said, I thought to myself, "What a dumb bigot, sexist motherfucker." The only thing more fucking idiotic than what he said is the response by some higher-than-thou people. This morning on Mike and Mike, Stuart "Left Eye" Scott tried to convince me and the rest of the world that there are WORDS that he can say as an African American that me as a Welsh/Cherokee Indian cannot. Really? He tells me that he and his race can call a woman a bitch in a loving way while the rest of us are not capable. So is he implying white people are intellectually inferior in the usage of the word bitch?
Separate But Equal?
- You can say ho but I can't?
That must be the The Mack Doctrine of 1973. Sorry but us white people didn't get the memo. I take that back. Apparently Eminem did, along with the memos about another touchy word.
- I guess I can't say nappy hair either?
Is that why a book by the same title, written by a black woman, read to a class by a white woman to teach children to appreciate their own personal traits caused an uproar? Wait! I don't remember advertisers having a problem with "nappy" when Stevie Wonder sang I Wish at the Super Bowl XL pre game show. Oh that's right! A black man sang it.
You set a stellar example of racial tolerance, as long as it's your race. So the same man that said during the Nixon administration, "that he was sick and tired of hearing about the Holocaust" is still trying to guilt white America about slavery? I never owned a slave nor did my parents, grandparents, or my great grandparents. Before then, the family on my father's side were fighting for the Union to free the slaves. My mother's side were still nursing the blisters on their feet after walking The Trail of Tears. So pardon me if I tell you to just let it go.
You have had an affair and fathered an illegitimate child. Way to practice the Ten Commandment there, Reverend. Yet you're the "moral compass" of an entire race? I can't wait for his views on the Crystal Mangum false report case now that all charges were dropped. My guess is he'll blame the WHITE prosecutor for blowing the case. That's right. The same white prosecutor he pushed to get reelected because of his quick response on this crime against the black community in Durham. I'm sure we'll hear from you again when some rap artist calls for a week of killing white people and you promptly defend her. Hell, you let her join the Rainbow Coalition. Is that your racial tolerance? Fuck you!
- Rev. Al "Blame It On The Diamond Merchants" Sharpton
This former tour manager for James Brown has become the most notable face of the "disenfranchised". This man of God(?) has been at the forefront of dividing the races by jumping the gun on an issue or twelve. He accuses the prosecutor in the Tawana Brawley case of participating in her bogus rape. Has he apologized? No! He's never wrong when he's defending another African American. He organized protests of Freddy's Fashion Mart(owned by a white Jewish man) because they raised the rent on a black owned music store. He conveniently left out that the black landlord raised Freddy's Fashion Mart's rates days earlier. Did he express sympathy for the families of the seven employees killed when one of his protesters walked in, shot four, and then burned the place to the ground? No! He never would apologize to "Whitey" for the action of an African American. He eggs on a protest in Crown Heights until someone killed a Jew that was visiting from Australia. Did he apologize to the Jewish man's family? No! He's never wrong when defending another African American.
As long as you have the black equivalents of David Duke(notorious hate spewing camera chasers) as your spokesmen, how is the divide going to close?
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
8:13 AM
3
Ramblings
Monday, April 9, 2007
Recognition From The Top!
Today today today, I consider myself myself myself the luckiest prick prick prick on the face of the Earth Earth Earth!Deadspin likes me! They really, really like me! I know it sounds petty but I'm a petty person. So whopee!
Posted by
Mike Pigott
at
12:29 PM
2
Ramblings
Labels: “Don't worry when you are not recognized but strive to be worthy of recognition.”
The Toilet Paper Eating Tree Is Dying
Smile while you can, bitch!
- Jonathan B. Lovelace (father of Linda, I assume) Athletic Museum and Hall of Honor: Where Auburn fans can pay homage to the only national championships they possess, in swimming. The swim team is known as The Scissor Kick Sisters in these parts. Pay particular attention to pictures #10,11,14, and 15.
- Old Man Willy's Silo at the Auburn University Agricultural Heritage Park: The Red Barn, Dairy Barn and silos across from athletic complex will be restored to working order with an addition of an amphitheater and pavilion to promote agricultural learning that displays the area's history. Note to reader: I named it Old Man Willy's silo but the rest of the description is from the website.
- Westwood Drive Cemetery: You're not killing anything in there that isn't already dead.
(HT: Stubone)
Posted by
Mike Pigott
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12:02 AM
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