50-48 #38: SIGMUND FREUD IS A TOTAL DOUCHE BAG

50-48 #38: SIGMUND FREUD IS A TOTAL DOUCHE BAG

In the grand pantheon of Austrian psychiatrists, Sigmund Freud usually seems to be the only one visible from the lofty heights of Vienna’s cafes and cobblestone streets. And, in particular, fin de siecle Vienna, who sucked at the teat of Freud for far too long, creating a sort of malignant dependence that has kept him in the collective mind far past his usefulness. Well, he wasn’t the only one. Alfred Adler was also doodling in a notebook as future Nazis poured out their feelings while lying on a couch. He too slinked around Viennese coffee shops, experimenting with marijuana and anticipating the death of god.

Adler was the guy who came up with the inferiority complex. [Or, to be more specific, he authored the concept of “inferiority feeling,” which is often destructively and falsely called the “inferiority complex.” Linguistic wrong turns such as these drive the editors of the DSM crazy, so to speak. (EDITOR’S NOTE: The editors of the DSM also hate the term “crazy,” particularly when proffered as a diagnosis for mental illness. For example, they would totally hate this statement: “Hootie’s wife is fucking crazy.” Even though she is. Crazy. Crazy, crazy.)] It was Adler who noted, “Imperfect preparation gives rise to the thousand-fold forms that express physical and mental inferiority and insecurity.”

Bobby Petrino probably has this quote tattooed on the back of his eyelids. If I ever get close enough (lucky enough) to make out with him, I’ll check.

Anyway, god is in his heaven and all is right with the world: The Hogs have started practice. They have new uniforms. (Don’t like them.) They’ve had a scrimmage. And it’s almost time to start the season. Our preparation will be perfect, and our feelings of inferiority will dissipate with every snap and call.

But let’s get to the meat of it, shall we? The subject of today’s installment is not Razorback Training Camp. (For more on Razorback Training Camp, CLICK HERE.) It is the “University” of Mississippi game on October 25. (For Ole Miss “University” propaganda concerning Hootie, CLICK HERE.) This game will be one of two uncomfortable homecomings this season, the other being Nick Saban returning to south Louisiana. Saban really might get sniped by some drunken maniac. Hootie won’t. Arkansas is far classier than LSU. But, that said, I’m not classy. And if I’m there, and I see Hootie’s wife or 300-lb bull dyke pal, I’ll punch them in the face. I will dish out the cosmic justice that ghosts and spirits dish out in Victorian literature.

So Hootie has spent the off season putting the back of his hand on young men’s balls, then offering them football scholarships. He has run off Orgeron’s four-star recruits and replaced them with Hootie-style two-stars. He has learned to love a new helmet. But he has not prepared his football team to win games.

On September 13, the “University” of Mississippi plays 1-AA Samford. That one’s a victory. There are NO OTHER WINS ON THAT SCHEDULE. Memphis, Wake Forest, and ULM are the “University”s three other non-conference games, and all three of those teams are better than Ole Miss. Vanderbilt is better than Ole Miss. (Right Pete?)

As for the Arkansas game, Hootie and his little team have no chance. Hootie will probably piss himself in the locker room, sucking all the confidence from his squad. And no amount of ball-cupping will bring it back. His wife will be less afraid, because she’s pure concentrated evil. So Hootie will bring her into the locker room for an inspired “bring the wood” speech. But the team will all cower as she begins swinging the 2x4 around the room. So Hootie, in a state of panic, will bring in the 300-lb bull dyke. BUT THAT WILL NOT GO WELL. Eventually, Hootie’s two toughest recruits will BEGIN ARGUING. And the whole thing will devolve into SOMETHING CRAZY.

When they finally get onto the field, the game will GO TO THE DOGS.

So, felled by Japanese giantesses who magically turn into anime characters in the locker room, the Rebels never really manage to put anything together on the field. Hootie will venture into the dark world of insanity at halftime, avoiding his team by having an INAPPROPRIATE RELATIONSHIP WITH A LIGHTSWITCH. What with the catfighting, the giantesses, Godzilla, puppyball, and crazy lightbulb bullcrap, the Rebels will not be able to mount a second half comeback. Final score: Hogs 1,000,000,000 Rebels 0. Hootie then challenges the Hogs to an ASIAN BREAKDANCE BATTLE, but we beat the hell out of him in that, too. He then slinks back to Mississippi, where being an illiterate shithead doesn’t carry the stigma that it does in other places.

Wow! My love for those hyperlinks almost matches my hatred for Hootie! That was great! Hey everybody! Here’s a song about FUCKING A UNICORN! Woo hoo!

And so, to sum up: Hootie sucks. Ole Miss isn’t a real university. And as the Rebels fumble through a functionally flawed training camp, replete with ball-cupping and giantess fetishes, the Razorbacks’ perfect preparation will help them avoid the thousand-fold forms that express physical and mental inferiority and insecurity.

Not that they need it to beat Hootie.

Hootie totally sucks.

50-48
Fuck Texas
WPS

PS: Wow! you might be thinking. That was great, but I was really hoping for more cuss words. NO PROBLEM!

PPS: Suck it, Hootie.

PPPS: You too, Freud.