His name is Jim Harbaugh. Not my puppy. My puppy is named Bonestorm. Jim Harbaugh ran over Bonestorm, the greatest puppy in the history of college football.
I think I might just drive straight back to California tomorrow and eat In ‘n Out until I don’t feel feelings anymore.
Everything is dark and hopeless and devoid of meaning. I want a chocolate vanilla milkshake very badly right now. And two sausage McMuffin with egg sandwiches for two dollars. And heroin.
(That’s one “h” for every home win USC has had since 2001, when… Stanford… beat the Trojans at the Coliseum.)