Evin "The Locomotive" Murphy finds time to belt out taint-tingling prose for LBMS from his real estate office in Santa Cruz, CA. Ed. Note: Loco is a recovering golden domeaholic.
"I looked the man in the eye… I was able to get a sense of his soul” -Bush on Putin
To test my thesis that James Clausen is the most overrated celeb since pop revolutionary Che “motorcycle diaries” Guevara, I traveled to Palo Alto to take in the Stanford V Notre Dame game Saturday.
Pretty simple back story on this clash of the kittens; both teams are awful, un-athletic and unable to recruit consistently because smart kids don’t play football, or football players aren’t smart…
I slept for twenty percent of the game, watched five percent and perved the stadium for ass during the remaining seventy-five.
Despite my best efforts to ignore anything happening on the field I had to notice Clausen making his QB decisions like a power-drunk fourteen year old in a backyard two-hand-touch melee grudge match. It looked like his brain had been outsourced to India, his synapses weren’t firing. Probably he was doped up on valium, vodka-grapefruit, and taquitos in proper OC style.
Decision-making highlights included: running out of bounds for a nine-yard loss instead of throwing the ball away, and throwing an interception to a defensive lineman while being wrapped up by a blitzing linebacker.
James ended the game by taking a knee, pretending like he was going to throw the ball into the air, then sprinting away from his team to dance, arms akimbo, towards the NBC cameras and some hand-slappin' fun with the 3-8 opposition. Candy-Ass Clausen has begun his reign of dumbness so take heed all ye who dare declare your golden domer loyalty. The eyes of this weird dumbo are filled with bleak narcissism. Grief will surely rest on those who him show favor.
"I looked the man in the eye… I was able to get a sense of his soul” -Bush on Putin
To test my thesis that James Clausen is the most overrated celeb since pop revolutionary Che “motorcycle diaries” Guevara, I traveled to Palo Alto to take in the Stanford V Notre Dame game Saturday.
Pretty simple back story on this clash of the kittens; both teams are awful, un-athletic and unable to recruit consistently because smart kids don’t play football, or football players aren’t smart…
I slept for twenty percent of the game, watched five percent and perved the stadium for ass during the remaining seventy-five.
Despite my best efforts to ignore anything happening on the field I had to notice Clausen making his QB decisions like a power-drunk fourteen year old in a backyard two-hand-touch melee grudge match. It looked like his brain had been outsourced to India, his synapses weren’t firing. Probably he was doped up on valium, vodka-grapefruit, and taquitos in proper OC style.
Decision-making highlights included: running out of bounds for a nine-yard loss instead of throwing the ball away, and throwing an interception to a defensive lineman while being wrapped up by a blitzing linebacker.
James ended the game by taking a knee, pretending like he was going to throw the ball into the air, then sprinting away from his team to dance, arms akimbo, towards the NBC cameras and some hand-slappin' fun with the 3-8 opposition. Candy-Ass Clausen has begun his reign of dumbness so take heed all ye who dare declare your golden domer loyalty. The eyes of this weird dumbo are filled with bleak narcissism. Grief will surely rest on those who him show favor.
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