Now, this is more like it, Stingtalk.
“… my diminishing love for Waffle House” is actually a great touch. Makes me almost feel sympathy for the guy, who you know is going to be doing a deep dive into the liquor cabinet before the first quarter is over.
Get The Picture 
Wonder if it’s that guy that keeps getting into the fight with Waffle House cook. https://twitter.com/jakemhs/status/1260025788759326720?s=21
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I saw a frat boy get the absolute life slapped out of him at the 5 points Waffle House in the Spring of 1998. I would not go out of my way to mess with Waffle House cooks.
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Yeah, most of those dudes earned those scars…a pretty good rule of thumb, start fights with IT or Accounting professionals, shy away from dudes with bullet and/or knife wounds…
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Good call, FD.
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that twitter story is a klassik, dawgxian. thanks for sharing.
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All for the fanbase. LOL….I’m sure they give a crap about what’s posted on StingTalk.
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öööö ?? These clowns…
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I know, right. Bunch of candy asses too delicate to type or read FUCK. It’s not as if the sentiment on that board is G rated. The hate, vile and general attitude is more vulgar than a Navy Chief who just had some seaman spill on his medals runny egg and shit-on-a-shingle. Bunch of hypocrite pussies.
The hell with tech.
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A seaman spill can be messy…posting for a friend
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Ain’t nothing vulgar about fuck(ing) if you’re doing it right. Me thinks this is where the problem lies…
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This from StingTalk yesterday. This is the kind of stuff that worries me
“Maybe the best thing we can do is get several mutts disqualified for the SEC game next week?”
When you have nothing to lose, you can be dangerous in a different kind of way.
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A forfeit by GT is the best outcome.
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Rest assured, UGA will get their best shot. Collins is coaching for his job.
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Their best shot still ain’t shit.
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We watch this game every year with my buddy who happens to have a chronic disease known as “being a Tech fan”. Not sure the scientific name of it, something like “celibacy”, but he has it. It’s also his birthday celebration, and I’ve been present for only two Tech wins and in both I predicted that we would find a way to eff it up and give him a birthday present.
Aside from that, yes, he’s been nearly blacked out before the 2nd quarter, but not before I hear too many “what’s the good word”s and “we’re going to shock the world” (news flash: they didn’t). I have to meter my enthusiasm in front of him, but it does my heart good to see the Techies lose, and lose in decidedly bad fashion.
I’m hoping we beat them 222-0 with most of those scores coming from the third string and eventually members of the Redcoat Band playing the final quarter of the game, including an 11-12 / 255 yards / 4 TD performance by a majorette under center (her one incompletion was only because the intended receiver, a percussionist, couldn’t catch it because he was still wearing his Bass drum to make it fair). At game’s end, the field is restriped to become a women’s field hockey arena and is forever named Richt Field by decree of Governor Kemp, who promises that “never again shall such a malice act of violence occur in the name of football in Atlanta again” (this, in tandem with announcing that the Falcons are being forced to relocate to Columbia, where other mediocre avian teams play).
Geoff Collins is later found in a Waffle House drowning his sorrows in a double order of hash browns, scattered, smothered, chunked, and covered, just like his coaching career. As he mops up the last bit off his plate, a job application from the branch manager is slipped on his table. “Thought you might need this, son” the manager said. “I know how you feel, but, trust me, tomorrow will be a better day”.
“Thanks”, says a dejected Geoff, “how’d you know I’d need this?” Looking up from his plate, he sees the manager give a smile, “experience, young man. I’ve been where you are before”. Extending his hand, the manager continues, “join me. My name’s Dan. Dan Mullen”.
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If Saban has a coaching rehab program, we can have a Waffle House franchise dedicated to career re-training for ex-coaches.
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This is literary genius, jp.
Post of the day!
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Make that 223-0.
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That was great, JP…esp the part about the Falcons moving. Also the surprise ending bought a laugh!
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I fully support the Falcons moving to give some relief to the long-suffering fans of the franchise.
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Stingtalk is a very strange place. I never knew of it until the Senator informed me. Now, I visit it on occasion with a morbid fascination. Just knowing that there are people like them who are out there loose in the world troubles me deeply.
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It’s sort of a CFB version of 8chan, no?
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Man, that is a perfect analogy.
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Dude, look at it this way: At least there’s a (relatively) safe asylum for them!!!
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It is my 2d favorite college football website. I want to get a GT email address so I can post on there. Potential Topics include but are not limited to: “My memories of Dodd,” “What it is like being a millionaire who can’t get laid,” “Where were you when you first played ‘Magic: The Gathering’?” and of course “My favorite of the 3 DWAG losses that have occurred since the Millenium.”
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Stanktalk is the consequence of closing the state mental institutes.
Now we have the georgia institute of north ave. for nerds (ginan)!
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Rage? More like a sense of fatalism over there. A small sampling for your pleasure. Doesn’t sound like the 20-30 Tech fans that still will admit to it are expecting to have a good time on Saturday.
“Every player on UGA’s bench will have played by the end of the game, which may keep their scoring down. Much like the ND game.”
“That game could literally be 100 to 0 if UGA wanted it to be. Look for our players to show up lethargic and quit within the first quarter. This coaching staff commands none of their respect. Our players seem to be tired of playing for them.”
“I don’t think 223-0 (which I do not consider impossible if UGA played their starters for 60 minutes) would change anything.”
“Our best hope is to pray the mayor puts a covid ban on outdoor gatherings this week”
“It’s way more probable that UGA’s defense scores more points than GT’s offense anyway.”
“Maybe if we left about a hundred Colorado gummy bears in the visiting locker room before the game we might have a shot.”
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His dreams will be scattered, smothered and covered as long as Kirby runs this state.
To have a great young coach who hates Georgia’s rivals is as good as it gets. We are entering the golden years of Georgia football let’s enjoy the ride.
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You got that right, Dawg!
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Is it too selfish for me to hope for a Candy like beatdown on Saturday afternoon?
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NOPE! Perfectly normal to wish for good things to happen.
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I never worry about what fan bases say. I worry about players and some coaches. I think Tech will come in and play hard for a half, maybe even half way into the 4th quarter. But really hope this thing is over by half time.
There is very little that is more disgusting than an arrogant Tech fan. They have had little be arrogant about since CMR corrected this series. Georgia ‘only’ has a 17 game lead in this series. That should give you an ideal of just how dominant Tech was until Vince Dooley arrived in Athens. Georgia is 42-14 since and 16-3 since CMR arrived in Athens. They haven’t had more wins in a single decade since the 50’s (split even in the 60’s), had 3 in the 70’s, 3 in the 80’s 4 in the 90’s, 2 from 2000 to 2009 and 2 the last decade. There is very little that is worse than losing to these guys.
If you are 20 years old, you have only experienced this 3 times in your life. Here hoping that you experience less than 3 times the rest of your life.
Really cannot stand this fan base..
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Dammit, now that line’s stuck in my head again. All together now….
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You wake up in the top bunk, snug within your Star Trek bedsheets, with that feeling in the pit of your stomach. That pounding feeling, that giddy, nauseous rush that can mean only one thing. You rush to the potty and take care of business. The feeling goes away. But something about tinkling–the colors, the sounds–makes you remember: Yellow Jacket football today!
You put on your best yellow sweater and yellow knee-socks, though you call them “gold,” natch. Then, moving to the dresser, you specially polish your thick glasses, adding one final flourish–fresh tape wrapped around the bridge. Speaking of bridges, your braces are also polished to a fine sheen, new zits are popped, and you’re lookin’ GOOD! You’re lookin’ JACKET.
Heart pounding, you race up the steps from your parents’ basement. Mumsy and Pops are reading mail from the old home country in New Jersey where they hope to retire someday. You slip out the door quietly and pedal your 3-speed through the crisp autumn air, gameday flags a-flying from the handlebars. And there it is, just ahead–the MARTA station. It won’t be long now!
You climb onto a southbound train, your eyes scan the car, and–yes! There, sitting next to the chatty tranvestite–a man wearing YELLOW! You make your way over and wave your pom poms at him and giggle, and he says, “$#%^ off, %$$^&!” And now you feel it more strongly than ever–the essence of being a Tech fan. You giggle again more shrilly, dance away, then slide around safely under the seats until the stop at North Avenue, tee-heeing for all you’re worth as you elude the grasp of your tormentor and his switchblade. It’s sort of like Frodo hiding from the Black Riders, right here on MARTA!
You disembark at North Avenue, snatching quarters from a few homeless men, and take a deep breath of downtown Atlanta air–Tech air! Now you see swarms of other Jackets–two of them, three of them. It’s no wonder the stadium had to be expanded. You pause on the bridge over the Downtown Connector to indulge in a Tech tradition: spitting on cars passing underneath. It’s a massive traffic jam of red vehicles heading north, and you nail an RV with a big loogie from your morning Yoo Hoo Soda. Tee hee! Saliva, the GT calling card!
Then you’re on campus, a block from the stadium. You take in the grand pageantry that is game day. It’s the gray, smoggy sky; the deep blue of the police siren; the giggling of the frat boys enjoying an impromptu tickle pile on the sidewalk. It’s the sound of gunfire. It’s the beautiful women with their thick makeup, standing on the street corners and bantering with the passing cars. It’s the voice of Kim King, talking and talking and talking in his one-note melodic range; Wes Durham screaming about a one-yard gain. It’s the giant rubber bee, George O’Leary’s old bedroom toy, patched all over, making funny farting sounds as the air oozes out yet again. It’s Flag Boy, the aspiration of all Tech males. Tee hee!
Above all, it’s four notes on a trumpet. You hear them now, playing the hallowed music, the sacred music, the Hymn of the Bee. There it is now, and you lift your voice to join in, warm tears fogging your thick glasses. The whole stadium sings solemnly:
“When you say Bud…”
Those four notes on a trumpet, your call to Jackethood, setting your yellow heart aflutter. Deep down you know this is the year–the year you beat Duke AGAIN–you OWN Duke. The year you road-trip to a BRAND SPANKIN’-NEW STARTUP BOWL for the holidays. The year your first pubic hairs break the surface. This sacred moment cannot last. Someday, by the Great Pointed Ears of Leonard Nimoy, you will be in New Jersey. In Michigan. In North Dakota. Someday you will buy your parents a house with a bigger basemment for you to live in. But in your heart, you’ll always be a Tech Guy–a proud drop in the endless river of yellow!
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Thanks for the morning laugh, that’s some comedy gold there….“braces are also polished to a fine sheen, new zits are popped, and you’re lookin’ GOOD! You’re lookin’ JACKET”. I almost pissed myself at that line.
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“you’re lookin JACKET” lol
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Largest margin of victory is 48-0 with Tech holding the W. Time to reset that even if we don’t recognize the game.
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Jordon Davis is going to play spin the bottle with that old jalopy; every stop of a turn reads – A N N I H I L A T E D !
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Last weekend the urban gnats of the dumpster flats were singing.”…I drink my IRISH Whiskey clear…” after the 4th quarter ND curb stomp. 404 is now such a monumentally bad rally cry, a mayorless city divided, with crime out the yeng-yang. They shouldnt even have the right to claim the Smyrna, Cobb County Braves.
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The chess club champ can sucker punch the star linebacker when he walks out of a bathroom, but that asshole linebacker is going to decide what happens next with no say from chess boy.
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