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Brief Shout-outs for the Weekend's Participants

I know he says he won't--he does this all of the time--but Whiskey Wednesday will get around to writing a post game report.  It'll be mean.  You'll love it.  But, in the mean time, I'd like to give props, ups, or whatever the damn kids are calling it these days to the various personalities we Cuppers either had the pleasure of or misfortune to encounter over the past 48 hours or so.

  • First, to Oklahoma State, Clemson, Georgia Tech, and other ranked teams who embarrassingly lost to their in-state, unranked rivals: this sucks.  However, I do take some sort of solace knowing that the Rebels weren't the only team to suffer such misery today.  It's like group therapy.  We'll suffer together.
  • Next, to the aged gentleman at the employ of the Canton, MS package store: I know you don't see many young suburban whites in your store, but don't look at us like we're up to no good next time.  WW and I just wanted a lil' whiskey for the tailgate is all.  Don't let us startle you.  I will say though, you run a fine shop, sir.  I'll be back.
  • To good FotC Smeargle and his family: thanks for letting us use your fantastic digs for the weekend.  WW and I undeservedly got to stay in this palatial home just off of campus; twas posh and convenient.  The folks who live there even brewed us a pot of coffee and filled our bellies with biscuits and jelly the morning of the game.  Afterwards, they dropped us off no further than 100 feet from the tent.  Y'all is good people.
  • To the barkeep at [BAR IN THE COTTON DISTRICT]: Thanks for being cool to an otherwise unruly group of Rebel bloggeurs.
  • To the two young girls who invited themselves into our car: You left your cheesy gordita crunch wrappers all over the floorboards.  Also, I'm sorry WW and I had to take Smeargle back to his fiancee.  (An Aside: Whiskey Wednesday and I have decided that we have far too many friends who are either married or engaged to be so.  We need more friends who aren't such.  Tryouts will be in a few weeks.)  We would have assuredly continued to party wherever it was that you were partying had we not been obliged otherwise.  Also, if Smearlgle is able to upload the audio he took on his iPhone from the Taco Bell drive thru line, that'd be prime fanshot material.
  • To Ivory Tower: Thanks for waking up über early to drive yourself and our tent up to Starkville the morning of the game.  That was unexpected, yet a great move.
  • To Juco All American's wife: Your bacon and egg casserole, or whatever that damn thing was, is divine. 
  • To Rhodestar (I don't know what all goofy symbols you use for your name): You're terrible.  Your father, on the other hand, is not.  Thank you for bringing him around.  He's a damn riot.  
  • To the Mississippi Highway Patrolman who told us to "give 'em Hell" : I would have, had I been out there.  I'm sorry our team played without any real effort whatsoever (OK I MEAN IT NO FOOTBALL TALK THAT IS WW'S JOB HERE).
  • To the ticket scalpers: You can't fool me.  I said thirty bucks and I'm paying thirty bucks.
  • To the architect who designed Davis-Wade: I hope you've died by now.  Society doesn't need you and your absurd structures.  Why couldn't State just bowl around the part of their stadium with the goofy bleachers and their mini-screen?  Why'd they feel the need to build a structure tall enough to see all the way into Tupelo?
  • To the mangy-faced, curly-headed ginger sitting two rows in front of us: Fucking fuck off.  Don't keep turning around and glaring at us after seemingly every single play just to see how we were taking it.  I'm sorry that a few Ole Miss fans bought some tickets and decided to--egads--root for a team you hate, especially within earshot of you, no less!  We're not animals in a damn zoo.  Cut the eyeballin'.  Also, until you can grow a real beard, shave that shit off of your mug.
  • To the folks selling concessions at Davis-Wade: Y'all are nicer than the folks at Vaught-Hemingway, that's for damn sure.
  • To the guy who confronted Ivory Tower as we were on the way back to our tent: You suck.  I don't care that you're a good Rebel fan who didn't like the stuff Ivory was saying.  I didn't like the stuff he was saying either, but I didn't get aggressive with the guy over it.  I also don't care how big you think you are, because there were fucking four of us and one of you.  I'm glad you weren't too drunk to step any further than you did.
  • To the State fans with good senses of humor (this really is a good majority of them): Y'all are fine by me.  We ribbed you before the game, and y'all got us after.  We each had a cheap laugh at the expense of the other and went about our separate ways.  That is, ideally, how this works. 
  • To the other motherfuckers: Die.  In a fire.  I'm sorry that we didn't let your petty, unoriginal nonsense get too far under our skin.  "Hey Ole Piss whooooooo RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE we beat youuuuuu whooooooo RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE."  Well.  You did.  It sucked.  I was there.  Hopefully we'll kick the horse shit out of you next season.  Have fun watching us on television come New Years.  "Hey whoooooo RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE you are a fag whoooooooo."  Look, dude, stop.  You're just being annoying now and have crossed the line from "rival fan talking some smack" to "antagonistic asshole."  I'm sorry we're not bitches.  I'm sorry we didn't cry, throw a tantrum, or stick our heads into the sand when you came by with your cowbells looking to start something.  If the greatest thrill you can get right now comes from angering strangers whose football team just lost to your football team then you're pretty pathetic.
  • To Stella at Strombolis: You're a doll.  You brought us delicious pizzas and cold beer.  You put up with Smeargle's lame Streetcar named Desire references.  You cleaned up after our mess.  And you did it all with a smile and a good attitude.  Next time I'm in Starkville (NEVER), I'll buy another one of your fine pizzas.
  • And finally, to the folks who participated in the game's open thread: thanks for the laughs.