RAWRCATZ! vs Buckeyes

Get the Gimp!

So we stand on the threshold of the great unknown. We could tumble deep into the ethereal darkness of 1 - 2 (0-1) and find our paws flailing about in the hopes that we come into contact with something, and the hope that when said contact comes, that what we find is not there to eat us. Or, as RAWRCATZ! and as one, we could step into the light. Yes, the Buckeyes are formidable. They have an arsenal of speed and death that could, at any moment, rip our defense to shreds. But the light, it is so warm. If we really, truly believe that we are the best team in the state of Ohio (and we do) then we must take care of business. The real life version of a killtacular has to start right now. Death and folly be assigned to the Buckeyes.

Death and folly.

Death or glory.



If that doesn't get you amped up to beat the Buckeyes... then you're dead already, and thus, of no use to RAWRCATZ! except for a snack.

Prognosticating: GO!

Strengths:
Actually, they are pretty damn good.
Pryor seems to have fixed that armpunt problem.
Finally got rid of that "Little Animal" character.
Their defense vs. our offense... yikes.

Weaknesses:
Let's face it, they don't see us coming.
Coming down off of the high of running roughshod over Tha U.
RAWRCATZ! are impervious to poisonous nuts.
Brazill with two L's is due.

Prediction:

RAWRCATZ! 27 - Buckeyes 24

There, I said it.

BUCKEYE HATE WEEK: Q&A With the Enemy

Taking any opportunity to do so, talking to the enemy can provide us RAWRCATZ! with helpful insight into inner workings of those depraved enough to not be RAWRCATZ! This week we talk with Sam from 11 Warriors, which is probably the only Buckeye blog worth reading. In this Q&A session we see that Sam suffers from serious bouts of "thinking you're really effing cool" and "pretending that most Buckeyes are not sodomites." In the long run these are troubling issues, but both are correctable with some shock therapy. On with the Q&A:

1. What is the worst part about being a Buckeye?

Sometimes the grapes fed to us by the womenfolk of conquered Big Ten teams are a bit on the sour side.

2. What is the best part about being a Buckeye?

There are convenient poop receptacles everywhere you look.

3. How many Pryor Armpunts does it take for Old Ohio to merc the Bucks in Columbus?

Over 9000

4. If RAWRCATZ! are RAWRing, what are Buckeyes doing?

Emphasizing the "THE" in THE Ohio State University in a decades-old pissing contest we can't get over winning. SUCK IT, COCKBAGS

5. How afraid of Frank Solich are you?

Is this before or after he gets behind the wheel whilst hammered?

6. Assume that the Buckeyes are Motecuhzoma, and the RAWRCATZ! are

Hernán Cortés, what would your strategy be for not being blinked from existence?

Sacrificing 11 dingo dogs and farting the tune of Good Vibrations on the president of New Guinea in a sacred ritual that summons the God-beast Sweatzalcoatl, known to most around these parts as James "Jim" Jonathan J. "J-Dawg" Tressel

7. LaVon Brazill is awesome. What say you?

I say LaVon is a chick's name. Or is that LaVonda? Is that racist?

8. Honestly, who wins in a street fight, The Marching 110 or The Best Damn Band in the Land?

As you may already know, everyone from Columbus knows how to throw down. Even old ladies. In the end, I envision sousaphones poking out of Green and White-clad rectums. [Ed. Note: RAWRCATZ! rectums are proudly Green and White. Such a noble color scheme when used correctly.]

9. Finally, a humble prediction?

THE Ohio State University Buckeyes - a googolplex

Ohio University Schmohawks - negative 73

While they are clearly deranged, it is important that we treat our Ohio neighbors with a touch of humility this weekend. I mean, you would be deranged too if you were constantly told you were only the second best football team in Ohio.

BUCKEYE HATE WEEK: Installment Two

Gifts That Keep On Giving
A play in one act

A spherical shape looks around the corner, the darkness of the bedroom, candlelit and sanguine, reveals nothing of the onlooker's personae. Rufus, aware of the aberration that lurks in his abode, betrays nothing of this knowledge. The lurker coughs, and, embarrassed of betraying his location, shuffles deeper into the darkness.

Rufus: Et tu, Brute?
Lurker: Yes, it is I.
Rufus: What brings your personage here on this day? You know we are to meet each other in combat upon the coming of this Saturday.
Brutus: You know why I come. Ever since I saw you, riding your biwheeled chariot of war, I dream only of traversing your manliest of manlies.


Rufus: Poor Brutus, don't you see? The motorcycle is but a facade. I am a learned man, the bike is but a foil for the team. As you should know, intellect is craved not by those upon the field of pigskin combat, only brawn and valor are desirous.

Rufus points to the far wall of the bedroom, row after row of books are found. Brutus, finally leaving the shadows, walks to the wall. He fingers a few titles, picking one up randomly.

Brutus: Dez cartez?
Rufus: You mean Descartes?
Brutus: I know nothing of DezCartez.
Rufus: One of the many reasons why we cannot be together.
Brutus: These books mean nothing to me anyways, it is you I crave.
Rufus: How can you turn your back on intellect in this way? This is the foremost reason why my lungs expand and my neurons fire. What sort of reasoning can lead one on such a foolish path of drudgery?
Brutus: It is because I cannot read.
Rufus: Cannot read?
Brutus: No, it is my great shame. That, and my pulsating ovaries.
Rufus: Surely this cannot be? Illiterate?
Brutus: No, my parents were married when they made me.
Rufus: (Shaking his head) No, I mean you honestly cannot read?
Brutus: No, I cannot. And my ovaries pulse like a cell phone on an everlasting vibrate.
Rufus: I care not about your ovaries. But your illiteracy confounds me. How did you get into the University of Ohio State?
Brutus: I told you, my parents were married.
Rufus: Never mind that, I must teach you to read. I cannot allow the head dignitary of the state university of Ohio remain so little a scholar, and so much a miscreant.

Rufus strolls to the bookshelf and picks up a thin book.

Rufus: Here, we'll start with this. My nephew loves this one.
Brutus: I am desirous of this ability. To be able to read would surely enhance your fondness of me. All I want is to be nurtured by those RAWRCATZian paws.
Rufus: If that is what you desire, you shall have it. But only when you have gained the knowledge of the written word.
Brutus: I am forever indebted to you. My ovaries pulse, my wetness knows no bounds, I can only think of one form of repayment.
Rufus: And that is?
Brutus: Happy Ending.

End Scene.

Now is the Time for RAWRCATZ! to Rise!

This feels more like the RAWRCATZ! I know.

2010: The year of the RAWRCATZ!

Wipe the spit from your whiskers, wipe the Motor City tears from our eyes.

Frank doesn't cry, he feeds.

(Click the image for a larger version, you know you want RAWRCATZ! desktop wallpaper)

There's a Thunder in our Hearts, and our Moves are Like Lightning

It's the power we feel when we get our taste of the glory.

Last year RAWRCATZRAWR! took you on a Homerian journey through the landscapes of MACland. Wherever RAWRCATZ! were RAWRing, we were there. Through the long and arduous winter known as the offseason your humble (and ultimately quite timid) narrator sought refuge in the comfortless comforts of academia. Attacked by Chinese spambots RAWRCATZRAWR! soldiered on, never wavering in its confidence that one day, I would return. And though it does not need me to retain its brilliance, I return once more to the base of the mountain that is RAWRCATZ! glory, with tales yet to be told, and a season of memories to incorporate into the annals of glorious e-time. So, brave RAWRCATZ! of Athens, please allow me to once more establish myself in your presence. Let the sun shine on your field of gilded artificial turf, and let RAWRCATZRAWR! be your home on the internet.

The Frank-Train is coming. Time to lay the tracks.