re: Calling Down The Trough... The Beast Has Been Awakened!!!

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I am an LSU fan. When people walk by me, they say, "Damn, that guy smells AWESOME." That is because I smell like nature's most perfect food - a corn dog. My meaty flavorful center is guarded by a smooth dense crust, like a golden brown sheath of battle. I am constantly surrounded by a hug of savory cornmeal, and I stand ready - stick in rear - to throw your mouth a flavor party.

Smelling like a corn dog means never having to rely on Charmin to celebrate a victory, in the way only high schoolers can.

Smelling like a corn dog means never having to shake a pom-pom.

Smelling like a corn dog means never having to face the ignominy of fielding a special teams player who can only get fired up fighting the band.

Smelling like a corn dog means I can inhale the sweet smell of corn dogs instead of having to smell the bull dung emanating from the field when a "can't boost off a player on the PAT" penalty is thrown, or a magical pass interference penalty VANISHES...POOF!.

Smelling like a corn dog means I get to see touchdowns instead of field goals, so many so that even the field goal kicker is allowed to get some, too.

Smelling like a corn dog means feeling the earth shake.

Smelling like a corn dog means not losing to Mississippi State.

Smelling like a corn dog means celebrating a parade of colorful characters from Elvis to Superman to pimps, and it means never having to wear orange pants and ties, looking like a foot soldier in a jackass army.

Smelling like a corn dog means seeing an actual BCS championship trophy on campus.


In seasons and in days of light and dark, may the corn dog oil never a spark.

To towering trees that scrape horizon's line, may you fall with fury to be carved in time,
Into a stick, a pillar, a miniature log; a shape becomes a cog in the center of the dog.
Oh corn, you corn, growing high to noble story, may the rippling wind be a harbinger of much greater glory.

And to barnyard beasts who form a most columnar meat, may they prance with delight at such a remarkable feat.

For to forever power smell and flavor, it must be an honor to truly savor.
Golden brown and delicious, this much becomes clear: if you smell a corn dog, an LSU Tiger is near.

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Some say he never really existed.

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Really? I never thought any of his stuff was that funny. Let's just let him remain retired.

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Bring it back, baby!!

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Oh, he existed alright. He's still around. Mostly sits in a chair by a fire studying ancient tomes and Penthouse Letters

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Did Merlin Olsen used to come by occasionally before his death?

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where ya been

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Have not seen you, stop by sometime before the years done

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