ty willingham is the black bitch you fuck but never marry...

if there was any doubt as to whether or not ty was little more than the black ho notre dame fucked until it was time to marry the "quality" charlie weis, this weekend's ten year extension eliminated it.

let's look at the facts in chronological order, shall we?

december 8, 2001 - george o'leary is hired as the new notre dame coach. formerly with georgia tech, he's seen as the new savior of a floundering program after he led georgia tech to five bowl appearances and a 52-33 record in seven years.

december 13, 2001 - o'leary resigns due to inaccuracies in his resume. the short version - he lied. athletic director kevin white responds with this statement: "I have accepted the resignation of George O'Leary as head football coach at the University of Notre Dame. George has acknowledged inaccuracies in his biographical materials, including his academic background. I understand that these inaccuracies represent a very human failing; nonetheless, they constitute a breach of trust that makes it impossible for us to go forward with our relationship. I intend to restart our search for a new head football coach immediately."

december 31, 2001 - ty willingham, formerly of stanford university where he lead his program to a pac-10 title and four bowl games in seven years, is hired to a six-year contract worth a reported $3 million dollars. it initially appeared as though notre dame was committed to allowing him the opportunity to turn the program around because never have they fired a head football coach before five years was up.

2002 - the fighting irish go 10-3, winning their first eight straight, and went to the gator bowl (they lost). willingham didn't recruit most of this team as he was hired during the committment period the previous year.

2003 - the irish goes 5-7, the third losing season in five years. in particular, they suffer a humiliating loss to a hated rival (lost to usc 45-14). there was no bowl game. this is also the first year of his recruiting. turns out they had the most difficult schedule in the country according to the ncaa.

2004 - the irish finish 6-6. they lost to usc 41-10 in a year usc went on to win the national championship.

November 2004 (a month before they're to meet oregon state in the insight bowl) - ty willingham is fired after only three years as coach and two years as a recruiter. he finishes 21-15 with two bowl appearances. athletic director kevin white had this to say: "We simply have not made the progress on the field that we need to make, nor have we been able to create the positive momentum necessary in our efforts to return the Notre Dame program to the elite level of the college football world."

this move takes place three years into a six-year contract, an unprecedented move by a university that has never, EVER fired a coach after fewer than five years. their is the understanding that a coach needs that long to show if his recruiting efforts will pay off as by then, the entire team has been recruited by him.

december 2004 - charlie weis, former offensive coordinator for the three-time super bowl winning new england patriots, is hired as head coach. he brings 26 years of coaching experience and is a notre dame alumnus. he also signs a six-year contract. weis is also signed late in the recruiting phase and therefore, has few if any recruits of his own on the team.

november 2005 - notre dame is 5-2 with two close losses to michigan state (44-41) and southern cal (34-31). weis is winning with willingham's recruits. makes me wonder if, given the opportunity, willingham would have done the same fucking thing. after posting a worse record than willingham did in his first eight games, weis is offered a ten-year extension to his contract. TWO losses vs. NO losses and weis is determined to be the better coach already. notre dame is suddenly very certain that weis is the guy they need to fix their program.

so where am i getting at with this? isn't it obvious by now? notre dame, in a move meant to take the news off of them hiring a liar, hire a negro instead, thus turning them from idiots to progressive pioneers in the world of athletics. the fact that willingham wasn't their first choice has no bearing because they ultimately chose him. however, given the fact that rarely, if ever, does an ncaa football coach turn a program around on a dime after years of futility, one has to wonder why notre dame suddenly figured willingham wasn't doing it fast enough. why, when they have NEVER, EVER shown such short temperment in the past, do they suddenly have no patience for the process of turning a program around?

it's simple, really. they never really wanted willingham for the long term. he was the "right now" pussy they sank their shriveled green and gold dicks into until they could get their hands on some quality twat. he was never, ever going to be good enough to last long at notre dame. the only thing that would have saved his job is if he had won three national championships in three years. he didn't, which made it really easy to toss his black ass on the street.

he's been classy about the whole thing, not ranting about how he got fucked. he quietly took the job at the university of washington while notre dame raved about how weis was the best thing to happen to it since knute rockne.

well i'm not ty willingham and i don't have to be classy about it. notre dame fucked him in every orafice on him. they wrapped their dicks in sand paper before thrusting them into him. they left his ass cracked and burning and bleeding while they calmly cleaned themselves up and pulled up their green knickers.

"thank you for the sweet pussy" they said to him as they turned to stare at his form crumpled in a corner on the floor.

then they whistled the fighting irish song as they skipped through the door to marry the fat bitch with the pure bloodlines they'd been waiting on all along.

my desktop for the day

orlando bloom always has a way of brightening my day. i'm not sure if it's cuz he's fine as hell or what, but just looking into his brown eyes has a way of putting a grin on my face. i wonder if he likes a little chocolate to go with his peanut butter.

if you're a female athlete, watch out...cuz it probably means you're gay.

so i'm talking to dex last night about sheryl swoopes announcing she's a lesbian and he tells me he's not surprised cuz most of the women in the wnba are gay.

wha?

so after i looked at him like that was perhaps the most ignant statement he's made in at least a month, i say to him "you've gotta be kidding me." i think he realized he'd have to strengthen his argument before he tried responding, so he didn't say anything.

but i know he's not alone in that way of thinking. i've already read a few opinions regarding this very issue and many are of the mindset that women athletes are expected to be gay. in fact, that's just the way of things. in other words, if you're a female athlete, the odds are high that you're also gay. wow. i'm glad that's all cleared up. it's so wonderful to know that all those years i played basketball and softball while dreaming of naked men, i was just sexually confused. all those times i visualized sticking my hands down a guy's pants, i was suffering from some kind of malady that had me thinking perhaps i was heterosexual.

in actuality, i was just a gay woman trapped in a heterosexual woman's body. while my brain and body sought out men, evidently the athlete gene in me was seeking out women.

now that we've got that straightened out, let's get serious.

i've made my opinion about it known here

it's a pretty good discussion regarding the matter. in fact, most of the discussions there are insightful and thought provoking, so you should check it out.

in the meanwhile, i'm gonna go and delete all my heterosexual porn.

weekend pt. 4

omaretta stood before me, a threatening aura about her, angry in her stance. her face had crunched up like she was about to spit at me. i just looked at her coolly, sure she wasn't gonna make a scene in a crowded club.

i was wrong.

"did you know," she said through clenched teeth, "that mark was MY man?"

i glared at her a second before looking over her shoulder at mark. the punk just stood there not saying a word.

"i had no idea he was YOUR man," i responded with forced indifference. this situation could get out of hand really quickly, and my temper has a way of not giving a fuck about the consequences.

"well, he is." she stepped closer towards me in what she thought was a menancing pose. i stared at her like she was crazy.

"look," i started slowly, aware i was dealing with a mentally challenged human being. "ownership of black folk ended with the emancipation proclamation."

a few snickers broke through the silence of the moment.

"not to mention the fact that your boy mark stepped to ME, not the other way around. if you've got beef, take it up with him, not me."

omaretta looked over her shoulder at mark before turning back to me. she actually looked like she didn't believe me. i raised an eyebrow at her as we continued to stare at each other. this is bullshit, i thought to myself.

"just stay away from him," she said finally before stepping back so i could pass her.

"for future reference," i stated in a low voice so only she could hear me, "step to me like that again and you'll be looking like an insecure idiot with a foot in her ass instead of just an insecure idiot."

she glared at me but said nothing. i stepped past her, glanced at mark who remained in his punk stance, then walked through the crowd until candice and i were on the other side of the club next to the dance floor.

finally i was able to take a deep breath. i fucking HATE moments like that, yet it's something sistas in atlanta get used to, especially here in atlanta. the perceived lack of quality brothas here means sistas are fighting over any guy who even appears to be decent.

i was starting to think the night was going to be a complete bust as i continued weaving through the crowd. the music was a lively calypso and i squinted through the dim lighting to observe brown bodies crowding the dance floor, shivering to the frenetic pace of the beat. i looked around for a table for us to sit at and locating one, tapped candice on the shoulder before pointing to it in the corner. we both turned and walked towards the table. before we got there, a brotha asked candice to dance. she handed me her purse and headed towards the dance floor while i walked over to the table and took a seat.

the corner was dark like the rest of the club, soft slivers of light coming only from the lone candle placed in the middle of the table before being absorbed and reflected by the blue walls surrouding it. i closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to force my body to relax after the drama from earlier. opening my eyes, i realized my view of the club was blocked by a tall silhouette. in fact, my face was level with his crotch, and from what the candlelight was showing me, brotha had a third leg in there. i lifted a brow as i slowly poured my eyes over the rest of him. his blue jeans were faded and worn, hugging his hips like a lover during the afterglow. his waist was trim, the flatness of his stomach obvious from the way the buttons fell down his white shirt in a straight line. his hands were placed on the table, dark brown and smooth fingers tapered at the ends and curved slightly so that only the fingertips touched the tablecloth.

i could feel his eyes on me as i continued my way up his form. his arms were long and leanly muscled, linked to a broad set of shoulders that curved into a neck that was actually both graceful and powerful at the same time. by the time i got to his face, my tongue was attached to the roof of my mouth as i fought to stop it from licking my lips.

and that was before i actually saw his face.

because that was a sight i won't soon forget. his full lips were curved into a lopsided grin, showing of shining straight, white teeth. a dimple was cutting through his right cheek and my gaze lingered there for a second. damn...he's got a beautiful smile.

i started up again, noting the broad make of his nose before finally settling upon his eyes.

his eyes...

i was suddenly immersed in twin pools of midnight sky, their depths reflecting the light of twinkling stars.

or in this case, they reflected candlelight, but at that moment, i wasn't really sure where i was.

and i sure as hell didn't know where i was going.

quick update...

i'm still alive. been mad busy. will post in detail tomorrow.