Not even a little bit?
Because that's all I can think about heading into tomorrow's absolute and total fucking of Indiana at the hands of Northwestern.
In a battle of two schools tied for the all-time losingest records in college football history, it's hard not to think of anything but two of the most appallingly atrocious humans of all time bumping uglies in a Walmart restroom. That said, at least Steve Buscemi -- the Northwestern of this heinous pairing -- has scored moderate success, including breakout years in the mid-90s and a return to relevance in the past few years. Rosie, meanwhile, is in constant flux between garnering irrelevance and disgust.
Anyways, IT'S TIME TO GET FUCKED IU.
Now, I'm not sure what exactly a "Hoosier" is, but I don't think it would really like being double-teamed by Kain Colter and Trevor Simien while Seth Meyers sits in the corner and watches Saturday at 11. I bet Cam Coffman will turn as crimson as his uniform after witnessing the ungodly bestial acts performed at midfield tomorrow.
Be warned, Indiana. We're going to abuse you like Bobby Knight circa 1997. Run your ass into the ground like the ass-drubbing William Henry Harrison administered to the Shawnee at Tippecanoe. Fuck you like Gary's industrial economy.
We know that your student population mostly consists of hot girls we used to go to high school with and music majors, but don't think that will stop Venric Mark and the Northwestern rushing attack from fucking you so hard that all jokes about Ball State University will just seem unnecessary (hint: it turns out that playing with Ball State was just the foreplay for what's to come tomorrow at Ryan Field).
Safe to say, we're going to screw you over like Governor Mitch Daniels having his way with a local union chapter.
Don't worry Indiana. Being the taint of college football will be a challenge, yes, but let us advise you on the ways of sucking. Plastic bottles of whiskey certainly come in handy, as well as a healthy dosage of delusion and heinous.
And if all else fails to cheer you up, we hear that the smog and pockets of racism make for excellent sunsets along I-90 on your way back from tomorrow morning's diddling.