El Narcocorrido de Brian "El Churro" Kelly, Jefe de El Paso

It's only been a few short days since Notre Dame coach Brian Kelly arrived in El Paso, Texas, but a quick glance at his Twitter page reveals that he has already worked his way through the ranks of the border town's seamy underbelly and risen to the position of unrivaled crime syndicate boss. The House Rock Built is slightly concerned that our dear muppet coach has lost sight of his work with the team and instead "gone native", but at the same time we welcome the comedic value of coach Kelly's transformation into "El Churro", the hard-boiled border-town crime boss slash illegal cinnamon trafficker slash blade runner that rules the borderlands with an iron fist yet an abiding tenderness and vigilant protectiveness for his downtrodden and impoverished de facto subjects. We say viva el Jefe! viva El Churro!

Not surprisingly, word of his poncho-wearing, gatorskin boot-wearing exploits have reached the barrios of Chihuahua, and the inevitable slew of Narcocorridos (go ahead and click to get a refresher - it's funnier if you do...) praising his nefarious exploits have hit the airwaves and filled up the cantinas of la frontera. This is one particularly jarring ballad that we feel deserves more attention. Escuchate:

¡El Churro lo ve todo!

Musica ripped from this jaunty ballad by Negra y Azul, a tune they wrote for the (fuckingohmygotincrediblenetflixitnow) AMC series Breaking Bad. Want to make it very clear that we're crediting them, because narcocorrido bands enjoy a reputation of being seriously tough bro-hams, and the House Rock Built desperately would like to avoid spending this New Year's beheaded in the Chihuaua desert.

Happy Holidays From Your Favorite Puppets

Remember, every time a bell rings, an angel scores a touchdown.

Stuffing the Passer - ND State of Mind

It's easy to lose focus in the long stretch between the end of the season and the bowl game, so muppet Dayne Crist has taken it upon himself to do his part for the team and help build up morale with a funktastic groove that is sure to make your bass get freaky.

By the off chance that you're not aware of the material being parodied here, first and foremost congratulations. You're a very blessed person and should probably just unplug yourself from the grid permanently and relocate to a shack in New Hampshire to preserve your precious virgin soul (that's what I would do if I could go back in time). If you're still interested in getting further background, well, I can't in good conscience give you the link -- I've got to sleep at night, yo, and I can't deal with having that blood on my hands. The most I can offer is this google search, tread lightly from there. Remember: if you stare into the abyss long enough, something... uh... bad... happens. I forget what Nietzsche said. I think it was something like your football team goes 7-5.

Let's hear it for ND
Catholic jungle where dreams are made of,
Most fun stuff you can't do.
I'm here at ND
There's lots of stuff that you don't know
Knute Rockne's alive, yo
I saw him at ND, ND, ND...

(Full Lyrics)

The House Rock Built Loves the New Big 10 Divisions

Bang-up work by Jim Delany this week in naming the new, ungeographic and unthematic divisions in the new Big Ten the "Leaders" and "Legends" divisions. We suggest you show off your conference spirit with this awesome shirt:

Stuffing the Passer - Boiler Room!

Most Notre Dame fans across the world got a real treat the other day when the entire phone list was robo-called by the University ticket office, with a recording of none other than our own muppet Michael Floyd urging us to buy tickets to the upcoming Irish bowl game in El Paso (I say "most", because unlike irishoutsider, I was able to convince the ND alumni office that I died, alongside my trusty Sherpa, in a tragic heli-skiing accident at the Khumbu icefall in early 2006. Needless to say, it cost a pretty penny to counterfeit the full dental records, autopsy photos, and sworn deposition from the Sherpa's tribal elder that the University demanded in order to remove me from the calling list, but it was well worth it. Instead of getting daily calls from ND begging for money, my "grieving widow" only gets hit up for cash once a month [in addition to the several fundraising drives every year]. You would not believe how nice it is to have that extra free time...).

Needless to say, the lads are hard at work pushing for that bowl game sellout and the Cadillac El Dorado that goes to the biggest seller. Their numbers have been flagging, so the University sent in their big wheel, muppet Coach Kelly, to give the boys in the boiler room a bit of a pep talk on how to turn the golden stack of leads into sweet sweet cash.

Remember: A-B-C: Always Be Closing. And, also, SLACT: Sell Like a Champion Today.

Non possession-specific!!

Stuffing the Passer - It's Morning in Notre Dame

Our long national nightmare is over, Notre Dame. Let the sun shine down on your shoulders, let swarms of loving fireflies gently slather your body with kisses as you drink deeply in the luscious ambrosia that is the unspeakably wonderful and oh so forbidden nectar of the magical tree of OH CHRIST WHATEVER WE BEAT SOUTHERN CAL!

Apologies, readers. The House Rock Built has been drunk since Saturday night, and it's difficult to do much more than mash our knuckles against the keyboard while viciously swatting the swarms of bats that have been dive-bombing our heads since sometime around the third quarter of the USC game. Life is confusing now. The Irish are bowl eligible, USC has been vanquished, and this strange and itchy/burny sense of "optimism" is coursing unpleasantly through our ravaged veins as the month of November comes to a close. It's a bad trip, man, but we're going to ride this sucker out until we wake up from this crazy dream or finally asphyxiate on our own tongue. Bless you all, Irish fans. It's morning in Notre Dame.

It's allright, lonely little burger.