8:01 We are in South Austin. I have been drinking warm beer and singing Brooks and Dunn tunes for over an hour. My truck-mate is tired of my singing. He suggests that perhaps Brooks and Dunn have written other good songs besides "You're Going to Miss Me When I'm Gone" and "Neon Moon" and that maybe listening to only those two songs, ten times each was a bit excessive. Perhaps, he suggests, I could just let the CD play on its own. I tell him to frick off and restart "Neon Moon."

8:30 We arrive at the Erwin Center. My truckmate, against my loud and profane protestations, parks on the top floor of a nearby parking garage. I tell him he's an idiot. I tell him we will never get out. I tell him we may as well pitch a fricking tent here. He ignores me. I think he's still pissed about the Brooks and Dunn tunes. I whistle "NeonMoon" loudly.

8:47 I am rallying. I have 4 warm beers stuffed in my pants. We're going to kick the shite out of Arizona.

9:11 Halftime score: Texas 31, Arizona 29. I am pleased. I go to the bathroom to pee for the 67th time today. I giggle to myself because of the new opportunity to do "the bathroom Brice." There are no Arizona fans in the bathroom. I am disappointed. I tell myself (out loud) that I have a "Niiiiiice cock." No one is amused but me.

9:41 I walk to the bathroom while drinking Bud Light out of a can. Needless to say, they do not sell beer at the Erwin Center,much less Bud Light out of a can. I am stopped by an usher: "Where did you get that, sir?" I tell him (no shite): "Oh, the cheerleaders were throwing them up with those little plastic footballs. Would you mind throwing this away for me?" I take the last swig and hand it to him. He is confused. I pretend I'm going to the bathroom, but I run away giggling instead. I duck into some entrance to avoid the usher, who is now pursuing me. I sneak into a large group of people and sit down. The usher walks by harmlessly. I am giggling like a little girl. I crack open another can of Bud Light.

9:52 I am lost. In my haste to avoid the usher, I have lost my bearings. I have no ticket stub. I cannot find my seats. Texas is losing.

10:09 Texas is being screwed by the refs. I am enraged. I have cleared out the seats around me because I keep removing my hat and beating the surrounding chairs with it. A concerned fan asks if I'm OK and perhaps I shouldn't take it so seriously. I tell him to frick off.

10:15 After the fourth consecutive "worst fricking call I have EVER seen," I attempt to remove my hat again to begin beating inanimate objects. However, on this occasion I miscalculate and I thumbnail myself in my left eyelid, leaving a one-quarter inch gash over my eye. I am now bleeding into my left eye and all over my shirt. "Perhaps," I think to myself, I'm taking this a bit seriously."

10:22 I am standing in the bathroom peeing. I'm so drunk I am swaying and grunting. I have a bloody napkin pressed on my left eye. My pants are bloody. I have my (formerly) white shirt wrapped around my waist. I look like I should be in an episode of Cops.