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tOSU @ TTUN, Sun 2/22 @ 1p ET, CBS

Hey M*ch*g*n...

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bottom right wins
 
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I've out-drank every pussy ever born in M*ch*g*n tonight. We have won again again and again, and we will win again tomorrow. We are OHIO, motherfuckers, and we win whenever we face off against those frozen northern rejects because their women are whores and their men are impotent.
 
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Be seated.

Men, all this stuff you hear about the basketball Bucks not wanting to fight, wanting to get this season over with, is a lot of bullshit. Ohioans love to fight. All real Ohioans love the sting and clash of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big-league ball players and the toughest boxers. Ohioans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Ohioans play to win all the time. That's why Ohioans have never lost and will never lose a war. The very thought of losing is hateful to Ohioans. Battle is the most significant competition in which a man can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base.

Sure, we all want to go home. We want to get this war over with. But you can't win a war lying down. The quickest way to get it over with is to get the bastards who started it. We want to get the hell over there and clean the goddamn thing up, and then get at those sister-fuckers from the SEC. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we go home. The shortest way home is through Ann Arbor and the SEC. So keep moving. And when we get to Ann Arbor, I am personally going to shoot that paper-hanging son-of-a-bitch Beilein.

When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a Wolverine will get him eventually. The hell with that. My men don't dig foxholes. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and showing the Wolverine that we've got more guts than they have or ever will have. We're not just going to shoot the bastards, we're going to rip out their living goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy scUM cocksuckers by the bushel-fucking-basket.

Some of you men are wondering whether or not you'll chicken out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you'll all do your duty. War is a bloody business, a killing business. The Wolverines are the enemy. Wade into them, spill their blood or they will spill yours. Shoot them in the guts. Rip open their belly. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt from your face and you realize that it's not dirt, it's the blood and gut of what was once your best friend, you'll know what to do.

I don't want any messages saying 'I'm holding my position.' We're not holding a goddamned thing. We're advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding anything except the enemy's balls. We're going to hold him by his balls and we're going to kick him in the ass; twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all the time. Our plan of operation is to advance and keep on advancing. We're going to go through the enemy like Brady Hoke through a buffet.

There will be some complaints that we're pushing our people too hard. I don't give a damn about such complaints. I believe that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder we push, the more Wolverines we kill. The more Wolverines we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing harder means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that. My men don't surrender. I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he is hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight. That's not just bullshit either. I want men like Saw31 in Toledo who, after single handedly drinking a scUM fan bar dry, swept aside the empty bottles with his hand, jerked his Buckeye festooned helmet off with the other and busted the hell out of six scUM frat boys with the helmet. Then he picked up his Buckeye necklace from the floor and he killed another Wolverine. All this time the man had an arrow through his testicle. That's a man for you!

All right, you sons of bitches. You know how I feel. I'll be proud to go with you wonderful guys in battle anytime, anywhere.

Go Bucks

Fuck M*ch*gan
 
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