Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Oh No You Didn't


For all of you who don't know, Barstool took another shot at BC today, this time taking aim at the BC residents of Titletown (the hockey squad).


This isn't going to be as vicious an attack as most of you would probably expect. Did the assault of the hockey kids send us over the edge? Obviously. We're bros with a blog, they're bros on skates, so naturally we were ready to come to their defense. Does Cam Atkinson manage to be the leading goal scorer in the nation, wear a simba costume to a party, and get pussy all in one night? You bet your ass he does. We'll send Barstool a picture of Halloween next year, but instead of these costumes they'll be wearing nothing but mid-calf socks and their rings. I don't really think I have to go in to the math behind why a BC National Champ hockey player > Sketchy, blogging Portnoy, and I'll spare you all the 70,000 word document that explaining such a hypothesis would require. "Hey shutup! You guys blog too!" Yes, Portnoy, we know we blog, but we do it for the absurd amounts of pussy that get thrown our way as a result, and you're married. Furthermore, we do it from class (it's chill to do stuff in class other than pay attention), and you do it from your Buffalo Bill-like blogging shack. Case closed.


But like I said, this is not going to be a horrifically long Barstool-bashing (as much as I would like it to be). Instead, I'd simply like to offer the Pres a challenge. Any competition he wants that embodies Barstool v. BC (BC brought to you by BrostonCollege.com). Creative writing contest? Jenga vs. a football player? Scrabble vs. a rugby guy? Shotgun vs. a hockey bro? Ultimate fighting vs. UGBC President Al Dea? Parkour vs. the Parkour freaks? Academic decathlon? You name it, Portnoy, and we'll be there. Stop hiding in your blogging layer and come out to play. You've conquered chat roulette and giving Sam Adams dome, wouldn't Chestnut Hill be a great place to make your mark next?


P.S. If you decide to post about us you'll send our hit-count into the stratosphere, which we'd love (not to mention our unfaltering affection for all haters), and if you don't then you're a bitch and we win the fight by default. Check mate, Portnoy.


We'll be at Copperfield's tomorrow night chirping at your wonder-boy rapper for two hours straight in the front row. See you there?


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