The storyline of your game against Florida will consist of a couple of things:

1- How your team was lucky enough to benefit from a screw job to Texas, by a flawed system. You’ve stated that this won’t bother you. In fact, it appears you seem to be getting off to it. Regardless. We beat you were it counts and your wife, daughter and sister all know where it counts. My Cock. And they love it.

2- Storyline #2. How much of a leader Tim Tebow is. Once Florida starts shredding your defense, the way a Texas Ranger shreds a sodomite Okie, the announcers won’t be able to help themselves and ask the obvious question: How in the fuck did Sam Bradford win the Heisman? What’s wrong with his eyes?

3- Sam Bradford’s heritage. Did you know he is 1/90th Cherokee Choctaw Indian despite that both his parents are White as my ass cheeks?

4- What if? About half-way through the 2nd quarter…after Florida scores their 5th Touchdown. The announcers will be asking themselves, “What if Texas had been allowed to play?”. The game everyone outside of Oklahomo that everybody wants to see.

5- Finally, last but not least: 45-35 …

Hmmm. Let’s see . . .

Were you referring to Hippie’s commments about sticking his sand-papered cock into the collective ass of the Sooner Nation?

Or was it perhaps Trips lucid references to the mental prowess of “bound and gagged” gimps?

Oh, I know – Colby’s exhortation for to me to go “fuck off” to another board – that must be one of the witty posts for which you’re longing, right.

Help me out, here. Really.

I’ll watch my back…Cussing to make a point is cool. It makes you want to read further because you know it’ll get so much better–the truth is, everyone on here thought they were going to be able to talk bad about another team without facts or good points interfering with the classless tirades. I kind of feel like I’m watching Mean Girls or something. I still never understood the head-to-head argument with a three-way tie, but then again I’m not wearing burnt orange colored glasses.

The one who really loses here is Chuck Norris–he’s the only guy who can have a 3-way with just one other person, right? Apparently not…

If it means we’ll repeat this year’s results again and again, I’ll gladly bend over and pucker up my cornhole every year.

Bring it.

You see, assholes heal. But the pangs of “what might have been” linger . . . and linger . . . and linger. But I don’t have to tell you that, now, do I?

And so, while you are staring at empty hands – hands as empty as Blake Gideon’s in the deciding moments of must-have game, we’ll be carrying home our two newest trophies: one for the Big XII; and one for the BCS.

You’ll never outrun it.

P.S. Please leave.

All I can see is 45-35.

45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.45-35.

It torments me without end.

If only I had something better to think about. Something that would take away the sting!!!

If only we had a third consecutive Big XII Championship to go with our other three to give us a total of six, or three times as many as anyone else in the league . . . then I would have something better to think about than that cursed 45-35.

Or perhaps if we had won a fifth Heisman Trophy, more than any other Big XII team . . . perhaps then I could get that blasted 45-35 “ringing” out of my ears.

Or maybe . . . and I’m sure this would really do the trick . . . if we could somehow find a way to play for our 8th National Championship, thus making our appearance in an unprecedented 4th BCS Championship in the last decade – then maybe, just maybe, I could forget that . . . that . . . that . . .

Hmmm. What were talking about, anyway?