Border showdown mowdown

Last night was the fabled Border War between Kansas and Missouri at Allen Fieldhouse in Lawrence. Of course, being the really awesome Kansas fan that I am, I was there. Today, I am 40% horse and have the pain of a Ray Lewis stab in the lower left quadrant of my back. Just some small side effects from a night of pure anal rape.

If you didn't catch the match, then shame on you asshole, because we removed the small intestines of the Tigers, and then replaced it with a sack of liquid nitrogen armed with a fuse, and then lit that fuse. FUCKIN RIGHT WE DID. It's hard to walk back home with the tail between your legs when we fucking blow it off. Anyways, I got a few pictures, and I mean a few because when you have obligations as a fan, you must complete them. Everyone knows you can't cheer with less than 2 hands. That's bush league shit. That's like boxing with gloves or playing hockey without a beard. You're just a big vagina without two hands ready at all times to cheer and yell and punch.

So on two the pictures..

This was the "line" that formed ourside the Fieldhouse three hours before the game. I was in group 44 of the camping mass. This was the distance from the front at group 44. There were 270 something groups. It's pretty much a big deal.

This was my location where I witnessed the rape. If you look closely to the middle of the picture you can see a large black blob. That is Jason Whitlock. He just makes you feel like you're in a vortex of gravitational force, not because of his aura, because of his....you know.