Another tough weeks of blunders and errors for the lads. Fortunately, they were able to escape with a win, but little do you know that they were only able to do so thanks to a top-secret government time travel program. Unfortunately, there were some externalities in the time-space continuum due to the rearranging of history, but no worries. What's the worst that could happen?
The Berlin Conference marked an interesting inflection point in the international system, marking the moment when the tact and skilled diplomacy that strung together a hundred unprecedented years of peace during the Concert of Europe was unceremoniously tossed aside when it became apparent that there was enormous money to be made scrapping the shopworn ideas of independence, sovereignty, and autonomy and instead yoking the entire planet under brutal colonial rule designed to expropriate wealth off the backs of unpaid, enclosured serfs.
I don't know why the recent spate of conference expansion, defection, and realignment got me thinking about this historical event -- maybe it's all the absinthe we've been chugging at the House Rock Built Studios. We've seen some wild things... like Notre Dame playing somewhat competent football against Michigan State at home. Damn, that's wormwood's freaky. So buckle up your seatbelts, strap on your spiked pith helmets, and enjoy this week's installment. And on a personal note to my high school guidance counselor who said I could never work Otto Von Bismarck, puppets, POGs, and college football into one video: read it and weep.
Thanks for bearing with our spinning otter break. This week's episode is a tad late, but still in under the wire. There's nothing quite like a good old fashioned bottle episode when you're crunched for time. The lads found themselves in a spot of trouble this week when they continued their streak of monstrous unforced errors even after the Michigan game ended, as you can see here. No worries, though. Every time has its hero, and a hero emerges to save the day and teach us all a valuable lesson about crowd-surfing. Enjoy!
Please pardon the delay in this week's Stuffing the Passer. Like any good operating system, the House Rock Built is fully equipped with its own wait cursor, the Buffering Otter. Way cooler than a beach ball or hourglass, I say.
At any rate, travel plans have pushed back this week's release, with fightinamish jetting off to Denver (where I filmed this adorable sea creature to your right) and irishoutsider pacing back and forth in his makeshift angrydome until he is deemed fit to re-enter society.
Your patience is appreciated.
For half a century, Samuel Beckett's immortal classic "Waiting for Godot" has been the quintessential literary allegory for ennui, existential dread, and the unnerving absurdity that haunts our every waking minute as we wait in vain for something that will never come. All good things must come to an end, though, just as Godot's fifty-year reign did last Saturday in the rain-soaked, lightning-ravaged hellscape of South Bend, Indiana. Today, the phrase "waiting for Godot" has officially phased out of existence and been replaced with its more modern neologism, "waiting for the rain delay to end in the ND-USF game in order to watch the Irish flail about insanely and commit a hundred new and exciting forms of football suicide." While it may be a bit more of a mouthful than its predecessor, what it lacks in pith it more than makes up for in total accuracy.
Don't worry about Beckett, his legacy is still intact, as he will always be remembered as the guy who lived next door to a school-aged André the Giant and chauffeured him to class (Editors note, I will admit to being quite the horse manure peddler on this blog, but the Beckett-André the Giant connection is actually honestly-to-god real. The world is a deeply insane place. How wondrous is that bizarre and random happenstance?) In the mean time, enjoy Stuffing the Passer's latest foray, "Rain Delay Theater". Some laughs are had, some zombies are killed, and the occasional mock naval battle is performed in a hastily-constructed hippodrome. Bon chance, mes amis.
Stuffing the Passer went unintentionally epic this week. Our apologies. Clocking in at five and a half minutes, this gargantuan monstrosity has, like the sucubus of legend, feasted on our life force and drained us of vitality. Do not watch this video, it causes synesthesia. Time moves sideways now. Food tastes like colors and pain feels like a pastel-ish shade of blue.
Enjoy, you beasts. Football is upon us. Let us offer up mighty sacrifices to its wild and unpredictable goat-headed god. Never let it end, your holy goatliness.
