Sunday, August 17, 2008

Get Down with the Sickness*

Some afflictions start small. A scratchy feeling at the back of the throat. A mild rash. A burning sensation when -- wait, never mind.

From there, the symptoms get more serious, building into an acute attack that leaves no doubt that your very well-being has been compromised. A stuffy, runny nose. Red, itchy skin. The burning! Ugh, I don't want to talk about it.

College football mania is similar. The tickle begins in early August. By the middle of the month, the symptoms are serious. More and more time at work is diverted to surfing the web for previews of your team, recruiting news, and any old bit of insanity posted on the blogs of fellow maniacs. Once late August rolls around, you may as well check yourself into the hospital.

As the swallows inevitably return to Capistrano, so too do the orange and white U-Haul trucks come back to Ann Arbor. And like Pavlov's pooch, I drool a little in anticipation. My subconscious lizard brain interprets the sight of students moving back: FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL.

In response this year, I rushed to my computer and ordered some awesome football-related gear:

Everyone should own this shirt. It's the coolest shirt ever. Except for all the other great shirts at Shop & Soliloquies. What's that, I hear? Sounds like whining. But Dave, gas prices are too high! The cost of food is rising rapidly! I had to eat my dog and use the leftovers as biofuel for my car! OK, you pussy. Check this out:

What recession? Buy stuff now!
That's right, you can get 25% off when you buy two awesome shirts from Shop & Soliloquies, your one-stop shop for stupid t-shirts you don't need and/or could make yourself for half the cost. Whatever. Consumer spending accounts for two-thirds of the American economy, so, like, don't be an unpatriotic dick -- go buy some stuff and keep America great. Or else you're with the terrorists.

Meanwhile, less than two weeks to FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL. Aw yeah.

* The title of this post refers to the superior Richard Cheese version of this song, not the lame-o original by Disturbed. Natch.