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.