Hola Gator Fans,
Es mi, el Caiman del Pantano, finally back from my extended vacacion to Jacksonville, Florida to see the renowned World’s Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party for myself. And let me tell you, I disagree with your classification of this fiesta between canines and reptiles.
Cocktails? What fucking cocktails? There were no rum runners, tequila sunrises, margaritas, daiquiris, sex on the beaches, or sex on the caiman del pantanos (very big cocktail in Mexico! Es por la mujeres solamente, por favor! In other words NO DUDES). You would be better off naming it the World’s Largest Outdoor Beer Wet & Wild with a Bourbon Chaser Party. Seriously, you guys get fucked up, even for the Caiman’s standards.
Alex: "For the daily double, the official Florida/Georgia 'cocktails' of the World's Largest Cocktail Party."
Caiman: "What is Beer, Bourbon, and Boilermakers?"
Alex: "Correct, choose again."
At one point during the tailgate I am almost positive (and gracias Senores Salty y Gator Head Funnel for your generous hospitality) I was demanding people smash beer bottles against my head so I could carve badass skulls into my forearms. Shit that whiskey makes me a masochistic cuttin’ hombre!
Whiskey is so powerful, it was actually knitted this nice skull cap for me. Why gracias you crazy whiskey Gods!
Honestly, I don’t remember much of the game, so it’s tough to comment on. I remember Tebow not being Tebow, our defense stopping less than El Gimpo the no armed Luchador, and a final score that did not please me. I also vaguely recall a gigantic celebracion after los perros scored their first touchdown. It made me want to grab a crow bar and beat Mark Richt’s head like it was a piñata filled with glass vases. I HAVE SERIOUS ANGER ISSUES OK!?!?!?! Plus, who doesn’t like to hit a piñata? Even if it’s a piñata that is imagined onto someone’s head. You’re probably doing it to someone at work right now. Aren’t you? AREN’T YOU!!
I had a good time though. And plenty diverted my attention away from the offensive line giving up sacks and the secondary giving up bombs. Oh, and of Knowshon Moreno. I hope that he knows his name means dark brown in my native tongue. And dark brown is the color of shit. So fuck you Knowshon Shit. I hope you get thrown by a giant ape at another giant ape or you get lit on fire in a giant brown paper bag and stomped out by a pissed off giant neighbor. Since we just don’t have enough Giant things, I hope you sprain your ankle in a running garbage disposal next time you are counter top dancing. Prick.
Sweet, sweet diversions from a pitiful game. Reminds me of the perfectly rounded hills of the Cerro del Topo Chico. Anyone for hiking? Aye, Aye, Aye ::fist in mouth bite::
All in all, the WLOCP was great, but the Caiman needs to see a win. This losing crap is getting old. You Gators lost more in the last 34 days than the Caiman has in the last 34 months. ONCE BITCHES! AND I’LL GET YOU BACK SENOR SANGRE FOR YOUR ILLEGAL PUNCH TO THE LLUEVOS WHICH THE REFEREE DID NOT SEE! YOU ARE MORE LIKE SENOR ME GUSTA SOPLAR POLLOS!
Hopefully my pilot Rodrigo will have the plain ready for the Vandy game, but if not, I could use a weekend at home among my Mexican estate. I have to go to Crate & Barrel Mexicana or Pier Uno Imports this Domingo to by some new cup-ware, because those fucking sucio children have stolen all my cups once again! Like last Saturday, I’ll give my mask a quick break and slug some cans back.
Cans, cups, bottles...none of it matters after a loss. Only quantity matters. And for good measure - Fuck You Dawgs, see you in 08'.
Until next time, Adios mis amigos,
~~ Caiman del Pantano