What?
What's everybody looking at?
Sheesh.
So it's been...oh shit...years. It's been years. I was in a coma. Just bluntly like that. Coma. Tell me I wasn't? Be that jerk. You see the thing about a coma is that it's so convenient for just disappearing for huge amounts of time while simultaneously being immune to the world's struggles. And also letting that body hair have a reason to grow like a jungle before...well...white men.
Is all this still kosher? Was it ever? I'm sorry, I just got defrosted. Did I mention that? I was in a coma, while frozen, because you can do both. It wasn't anything planned, funny story, I fell into a vat.
But then I got out of it and was subsequently put into a coma and frozen.
I'm clearly talking out of my ass, but who isn't these days?
I mean, clearly you knew I was coming back for this, Nick?
We don't go gently into the night.
I'm referring to of course, Nick Satan...I'm sorry, still defrosting, Nick Saban. He retired this year and I barely noticed except for the fact that sunshine happened again. What an absolutely legend...ary ass-wipe. He's the epitome of "smug asshole" face, and if you are unsure, it's not pronounced eppy tomb but more like ep pit of me. It helps to break it down by the syllables, which is another word he can't say either because the Devil's tongue is forked and it sounds like szzzzzzzz.
I wasn't really in a coma, I just felt like we needed a break. Didn't we need a break? Don't we all need a break from some time to time? I just happen to have no idea of the affects of time so I just went away for...well...this amount.
I've wanted to come back for so many other things but my publicist wouldn't let me. I'm just kidding, my publicist was begging me to come back. It was embarrassing for her because none of this is published and it's definitely not for the public and beyond that, the public doesn't want it, in fact, I asked them and they collectively said, "NO".
But Nick Saban retired! I always come back for the death of a villain!
Now, as happy as I am, that a truly, horrible person, that definitely hates dogs, announces his "retirement", which I know just means "I'll be back in another form and you'll never truly defeat me, szzzzzzzz." He's still considered the greatest.
The greatest?!
I keep that in lower-case so you don't confuse that with the actual "Greatness", Muhammad Ali, and I will DIE before the two are considered one and the same.
But still, he says that he has a problem with college kids making money, while in college, which affectively ruined his advantage over the rest of his competition, so he effectively said, "Fuck it", and just retired. And he mentioned a 'touching' story about his wife, how they would host breakfast and invite the new 'recruits' over and how that doesn't mean anything now.
Barf.
I have no high-horse, no box to stand on, it's literally me and the unicorns and now they're wondering why I don't pay them, Saban! What the fuck! Just retire and keep your big mouth shut!
Kidding.
They don't even know what money is, they just go ape-shit for honey combs.
The big problem here, is that Santa, errrr...whatever his name is, retires when, finally, college players are getting paid. He's afraid of the future when the rest of us were always afraid of the past. If I break my neck on an oil rig as an intern, who cares? Uh, probably my family, everyone that's watched me grow on oil rigs over the years, and, I don't know, the muuuueeellllliiiiiioooons watching at home on their goddam tv! Maybe, just maybe, before I sacrifice literally everything I have there can be some compensation first? You know, in case I break my neck?
The old man left because he was afraid that the future wouldn't be in his favor.
No shit.
The future isn't something to be afraid of, or run from, we embrace it.
Float on, graceful swans.
