Florida Gators

[KeviNole]

Meh.

If the Gators had beaten the Noles, it wouldn't have meant anything to the CFB world except for Gator fans. Same as it is now after FSU won. However, with the dominance that Bama has shown and the mad scramble to find 3 other playoff-worthy teams this year, an end-of-year loss by Bama would throw the whole thing into chaos and everyone would be talking about it.

[AlabamAlum]

People would also be talking about a fire at an orphanage that killed 300 children, but that doesn't mean it's a good thing.

[hedge]

Coach Mac - to borrow an old political campaign slogan: It's the OLine stupid! This is 7 years in a row now of absolute crap on the front 7. FSwho reportedly had mediocre defense this year, what the hell is Bammer going to do to them next week? Go recruit a shitload of good linemen and don't bother coming back this Spring without them.

yes I know it could have been worse - we could have lost to Vandy.

Bammer??

[GBJs]

I can always count on AA for an honest, very accurate, response.

No the fuck it would not be fun to watch... Heh!

[Professor Tiger]

No, the fuck, it wouldn't be "fun for CFB to see." It would be as fun as the beloved family dog being ran over by a garbage truck, cracking his poor little spine and causing massive internal injuries where, somehow, he weakly crawls to the side of the road, dragging his paralyzed hind legs behind him, and him suffering for hours before dying a slow, painful, horrible death alone.

Dang, that ranks right up there with "Was it a dream?"

[hedge]

"It would be as fun as the beloved family dog being ran over by a garbage truck, cracking his poor little spine and causing massive internal injuries where, somehow, he weakly crawls to the side of the road, dragging his paralyzed hind legs behind him, and him suffering for hours before dying a slow, painful, horrible death alone."

That might be fun for the neighbors who were sick of his barking and terrorizing of the neighborhood...

[AlabamAlum]

No, the neighbors loved him. Years ago a coyote wandered into the neighbor's yard and had little Meagan (the neighbor's 2-year-old child with cerebral palsy) cornered. Ranger (the beloved family dog) ran to the rescue, chased the coyote off (even though he was half the coyote's size) and saved the child. He never barks at night and always brings their paper from the paper boy's errant toss to the shrubs up onto the porch. Everyone says he is the best and most loved doggie ever. He is the better angel of our humanity. Or he was, until the, you know, garbage truck thing.

[KeviNole]

Plot twist: Nick Saban was driving the garbage truck

[AlabamAlum]

Yes. Life lessons are important. Thank you, Coach Saban.

[The Gray Ghost]

damn. If UF does somehow win Saturday we'll have the image of that poor little pooch ruining the moment.

[10ac]

I thought mad dogs foamed at the mouth, galloped, leaped and lunged at throats, and I thought they did it in August. Had Tim Johnson behaved thus, I would have been less frightened.
Nothing is more deadly than a deserted, waiting street. The trees were still, the mockingbirds were silent, the carpenters at Miss Maudie’s house had vanished. I heard Mr Tate sniff, then blow his nose. I saw him shift his gun to the crook of his arm. I saw Miss Stephanie Crawford’s face framed in the glass window of her front door. Miss Maudie appeared and stood beside her. Atticus put his foot on the rung of a chair and rubbed his hand slowly down the side of his thigh.
‘There he is,’ he said softly.
Tim Johnson came into sight, walking dazedly in the inner rim of the curve parallel to the Radley house.
‘Look at him,’ whispered Jem. ‘Mr Heck said they walked in a straight line. He can’t even stay in the road.’
‘He looks more sick than anything,’ I said.
‘Let anything get in front of him and he’ll come straight at it.’
Mr Tate put his hand to his forehead and leaned forward.
‘He’s got it all right, Mr Finch.’
Tim Johnson was advancing at a snail’s pace, but he was not playing or sniffing at foliage: he seemed dedicated to one course and motivated by an invisible force that was inching him towards us. We could see him shiver like a horse shedding flies; his jaw opened and shut; he was alist, but he was being pulled gradually towards us.
‘He’s lookin’ for a place to die,’ said Jem.
Mr Tate turned around. ‘He’s far from dead, Jem, he hasn’t got started yet.’
Tim Johnson reached the side-street that ran in front of the Radley Place, and what remained of his poor mind made him pause and seem to consider which road he would take. He made a few hesitant steps and stopped in front of the Radley gate; then he tried to turn around, but was having difficulty.
Atticus said, ‘He’s within range, Heck. You better get him now before he goes down the side street – Lord knows who’s around the corner. Go inside, Cal.’
Calpurnia opened the screen door, latched it behind her, then unlatched it and held on to the hook. She tried to block Jem and me with her body, but we looked out from beneath her arms.
‘Take him, Mr Finch,’ Mr Tate handed the rifle to Atticus; Jem and I nearly fainted.
‘Don’t waste time, Heck,’ said Atticus, ‘Go on.’
‘Mr Finch, this is a one-shot job.’
Atticus shook his head vehemently: ‘Don’t just stand there, Heck! He won’t wait all day for you – ’
‘For God’s sake, Mr Finch, look where he is! Miss and you’ll go straight into the Radley house! I can’t shoot that well and you know it!’
‘I haven’t shot a gun in thirty years – ’
Mr Tate almost threw the rifle at Atticus. ‘I’d feel mighty comfortable if you did now,’ he said.
In a fog, Jem and I watched our father take the gun and walk out into the middle of the street. He walked quickly, but I thought he moved like an underwater swimmer; time had slowed to a nauseating crawl.
When Atticus raised his glasses Calpurnia murmured, ‘Sweet Jesus help him,’ and put her hands to her cheeks.
Atticus pushed his glasses to his forehead; they slipped down, and he dropped them in the street. In the silence, I heard them crack. Atticus rubbed his eyes and chin; we saw him blink hard.
In front of the Radley gate, Tim Johnson had made up what was left of his mind. He had finally turned himself around, to pursue his original course up our street. He made two steps forward, then stopped and raised his head. We saw his body go rigid.
With movements so swift they seemed simultaneous, Atticus’s hand yanked a ball-tipped lever as he brought the gun to his shoulder.
The rifle cracked. Tim Johnson leaped, flopped over and crumpled on the sidewalk in a brown-and-white heap. He didn’t know what hit him.

[AlabamAlum]

Harper attended the University of Alabama.

Roll Tide.

[DooKSucks]

and she became good friends with Pat Dye of all people...

There is a coyote roaming through our neighborhood and golf course.

[aTm]

How many coyotes would it take to bring down prey like DS?

[AlabamAlum]

One coyote is good for 75 pounds. So, what? 6?

[Professor Tiger]

and she became good friends with Pat Dye of all people...

There is a coyote roaming through our neighborhood and golf course.

Is the "coyote" as in the canine, or "coyote" as in a person who smuggles illegals into the US for profit?

BTW, I was in Pittsboro yesterday. The local Lowe's wants you back, DS. Really bad.

[hedge]

DS would wade thru a pack of coyotes like the marshmallow man in Ghostbusters terrorizing the city...

[AlabamAlum]

I have a friend who has a coy-dog. It's pretty aggressive.

[hedge]

A friend of mine had a husky/wolf mix, he was as cool as they come, but he could've done some damage if provoked...

[Jungle Rat]

I wish he would have.