"My God, a Freshman!"

Dear 8lb, 9oz, sometimes serious Jesus in the manger,

Little leader, we’re coming to you today with a different sorta prayer. While of course our eyes are always set on the W, (AGAIN AGAINST SOME MORE DANG TIGERS, if I may say so) we need a little TLC for our boys this week, Jesus.

Bulldogs remember the first time we set foot in Heaven, Jesus. On Earth, we call it Athens. And we remember marching miles in heels, hammered, calling out about who’s coming down the track. And we remember our first tailgate on North Campus, and how we were darn sure we’d never find a better place to call home. The moment you know you’re a Georgia Bulldog, Jesus, you are forever changed.

We remember our first trip to Jacksonville. If you’re me, on a bus with ALL of the drunk fraternity boys, some of whom are still my most favorite people on the planet. We remember being so wasted before a night game against Auburn that we were sure we’d never make it, but we did. We think about the moment when everyone realizes you’re going to win a too-close game against Tennessee and you hug a complete stranger in the stands. In that moment, you understand why we call it the Bulldog Nation.

We reflect on the players we have loved along the years! And some we love less now, David Pollock you filthy traitor!

*Ahem*

When you’re a Bulldog, the sound of Larry Munson’s voice does somethin’ to you.  Standing in Sanford Stadium on a perfect Saturday afternoon in Fall is better than the best thing you can think of. And the song leading us into the 4^th sometimes makes us choked up, but we just pretend our bleary eyes are drunk, because there’s no crying  in football.

But there is. Our ever-stoic coach shed tears, Jesus! When things like last week happen, and the week before, and all of the weeks where a Bulldog has fallen, you feel it! And your heart hurts. You worry for your team, not a National title. (Ok, a National title a little, but go with me on this, Jesus.) Georgia Bulldogs everywhere are worried, Jesus, and we need your help!

Watch over us today, lordlet. Loran said it best when he said Larry would love this team’s heart. I believe Larry is up there with you, Jesus, so maybe you could talk to him some about why this year’s Georgia team is so incredibly special. Keep it safe! And if in the interim we could whoop some Tiger tails, that would also be muchly appreciated.

In your grown man football playin’ name we pray,

Amen.

AND GO DAWGS!

Orange Is Not the New Red and Black

Dear 8lb, 9oz, SEC-lovin' tiny Jesus in the manger,

Woooooeeeeee, Jesus! How about all of the awesome it is to be a Georgia Bulldog this season! Thank you for helping us send those crappy tigers back to the swamp with their tails between their legs! Today our blessed Bulldogs take on some Volunteers in orange (which to me sounds a lot like those prisoners who clean up trash on the side of the road) in some gross old place in Tennessee. I feel strongly you will help guide us victory, littlest lord.

Remember when Tennessee weekend used to be a big deal, Jesus? In college, I always spent a little extra time talking to you before this game! Now, well, I have to be honest. I don’t even know their coach’s name. I expect this is all a result of that one time Derek Dooley decided to be a big ole traitor and went to Knoxville for approximately 5 minutes. Now they're just another dumb team dressed in orange who doesn't know what their mascot is. *cough* Auburn *cough*

Speaking of mascots,  let’s just be honest here, tiny Christ. I know we’re supposed to love all of your creatures, and we do. But there’s just no way on Earth that Smokey is as good as Uga when it comes to mascots. That Russ is a handsome gentleman and could obviously whoop that coon dog’s hiney if he felt like getting off his bag of ice! And that wretched Rocky Top business. I'm sorry, little savior, but if Phish covers your fight song, you should probably just hang it up.

I really like to think Heaven looks a lot like Sanford Stadium around 9am on the morning of a noon game, Jesus. Not like Neyland Stadium, which I hear looks a lot like a garbage truck workers’ convention. I mean, it would make sense, Jesus. Remember when Lane Kiffen left and they burned trash in the streets to stop him? First, what kind of nasty rednecks burn trash? And second, who wants to keep Lane Kiffen anywhere?

Bless over our boys in red and black this week, baby ruler of the Universe, and for the love of your sweet name, don't let us do that thing where we accidentally lose a game we shouldn't. Know that in honor of today's game, I will not be drinking Jack Daniels to avoid showing any support to state best known for...wait wait, Jesus, I can't even pretend I'm telling the truth right now. I guess Tennessee the state isn't all bad, but their crappy football team is, so let the Dawgs win today!

In your hobnail boot wearin' name we pray,

Amen.

And GO DAWGS!

Cajun is French for Corndog

Dear 8lb, 90z, tiniest little Georgia-loving Jesus,

Thank you for another glorious Saturday in Athens, lordlet! And thank you for that sweet victory over North Texas last week! Today, the Bulldogs take on another team of Tigers, Jesus, and we come to you asking for a better outcome than that first go’round!

First of all, Jesus, Baton Rouge (really, they can’t think of a better name for their city than Red Stick??) is just the grossest! It’s like all the rednecks in France got kicked out by the sophisticated folks and fled to Louisiana. Have you ever met snobby white trash, Jesus? They're the worst! And they barely even speak English, which we all know was your native tongue. I mean, it's in the Bible, Jesus. You can’t just go around, inventin’ languages and stuff. Who spells it geaux? I mean, honestly. And they can call it a bayou all they want; fact is it’s a nasty old swamp! Speaking of which, have you ever even seen a tiger in a swamp, Jesus? I don’t think so. 

I’ll be honest, cause you said we should be, and admit I don’t know much about LSU, tiny monarch. I’ve heard the fans smell like corndogs and that just like the last stupid Tigers we played, they named their stadium after a place in another state. Not that I’d expect much from the people from a place where beads are accepted as currency for lewd behavior! Georgia should win just on our caliber of students alone, savior! And because purple is ugly.

This important battle also comes down to our coaches, little ruler of Heaven. Every week we devout Georgia fans look to Mark Richt (second only to you, of course) as our hero and our leader. Sure, he’s a little conservative, but at least he knows how to clap. And he doesn’t go around paying players and stuff. Or taking Nick Saban’s throw-away jobs. Or cheating on his wife. Or eating grass. (Really, Jesus, what is that all about?) Or taking on quarterbacks who treat ladies inappropriately! That Mettenberger, Jesus! Thank you for seeing to it that he not be allowed to continue his career as a Georgia Bulldog and for delivering Aaron Murray to us instead!

As we gather between our sacred hedges today, tiny savior, protect over our boys and lead us to victory over those crappy cajuns. Let there be long (caught) passes, lots of (forced) turnovers and long (touchdown) drives. Continue to keep us safe from injury, and out of trouble during the week. We thank you for making it so darn great to be a Georgia Bulldog, sweet Jesus!!!

In your comin’ down the track name we pray,

Amen.

And GO DAWGS!!

The Doucher Bowl, brought to you by Axe Body Spray and the Ford Mustang

Dear 8lb, 9oz, little Lonestar Jesus in the manger,

Today’s prayer is a little different, tiny Jesus. You saw fit to give our Dawgs a break this week, so I’m coming to you on behalf of SEC fans everywhere who are tired of being kicked around by bandwagon fans from Alabama. Today, I (and hopefully the rest of the Bulldog Nation) stand proudly behind Texas A&M as they take on those…wait, are they elephants...some red wave thing? Who knows! The point is that you said through you all things are possible. If the Aggies can do it once, they can do it again!

First of all, tiny lord, you CLEARLY told us that you’re the only dead guy we’re allowed to worship. This Bear Bryant thing, Jesus, I mean, it’s obviously blasphemy. And nobody’s cared more than Alabama fans about wearing a tacky pattern until Kim Kardashian left the house wearing a couch that one time. (http://thelaughingstork.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/kim-kardashian-couch-floral.jpg)

I get that Alabama is an OK school, Jesus. I mean, they have the highest graduation rate of MRS degrees in the country. And Tuscaloosa isn’t all bad…oh wait. Yes, yes it is. My point is, I guess it can’t be that terrible a place to go to school when I’ve seen such a huge increase in the number of folks sporting their gear since the National Championship... I can’t even imagine how they accommodate so many new students…

It’s not that I particularly care for Texas A&M, small ruler of the universe. They’re like, obsessed with the Alamo and teach bronco-busting in their institutions of higher learning. But this comes down to more than Johnny Manziel and his stupid autographs. This is about Alabama fans and the fact that the rest of us have to deal with them! Seriously, Jesus, THEY POISON TREES. Not that anyone gives a rat’s patootie about Auburn, but that's some shady business!

Bless over the Aggies today, Jesus, even if Johnny Manziel is a huge …hmm, I’m gonna need some help here, little savior. Normally I’d call him a douche, but I get that probably isn’t a prayer-appropriate word. How about this -  I have no idea what Gigging ‘Em entails, but as long as it’s not like twerking,  if you could see to it with all of your mighty ways that our pal Johnny Football is able to accomplish it, we would all greatly appreciate it.

Thank you for the SEC, Jesus. It is, as I’m sure you understand, the Alpha and Omega of college football. Forgive those who covet us, because I mean, really, can you blame them? Who wouldn't want to be a part of an institution that's won...wait, Jesus, I need to do some research here. Only Alabama fans exaggerate the number of National Championships they've won...

In your yellow rose lovin' name we pray,

Amen!

And just for good measure, GO DAWGS!

You Can't Spell Suck Without U.S.C.

Dear 8lb, 9oz, little, precious, Dawg-lovin’ savior,

Good morning Jesus, and Happy September Saturday. One of the most glorious kinds of Saturdays! Thank you for inventing them.

Well, Jesus, we Georgia fans are coming to you a little more humbly this week. Our hearts (and our ACLs) are hurting with sympathy for our Dawgs. But, the way I figure it, Jesus, you’re the biggest come-back kid I know, so I believe in my heart of hearts that you will help our boys pull out a victory today over those wretched chickens and their evil leader.

Can we just talk about Steve Spurrier for a second, tiny leader of Heaven? Far as I can tell, YOU’RE the only Head Ball Coach around this place…and the ENTIRE UNIVERSE. He’s just a big old arrogant commandment breaker (whichever one where you said don’t be a big dumb jerk!) And he THROWS things, Jesus! Can you imagine? A grown man, throwing a hat. And I hear he takes his clothes off at practice! Clearly all signs of a lunatic that should not be encouraged by a victory over our own chaste (and better looking with his shirt off) Coach Richt!

Also, I know last week I said orange was the worst thing you ever made, but that’s just because I forgot about Columbia. What kind of place wants to be the capitol of the state that didn’t even want to be a part of this great grand thing we call AMERICA?! That’s like saying you want to be in a conference outside of the SEC. WHO DOES THAT, Jesus?! Not the Bulldogs, I can tell you that much.

As we gather in Athens (second only to Heaven of the most important places ever), I ask that you watch over all those proudly wearing any variety of red and black, or silver britches. Thank you for our (remaining) Bulldogs, small lord. If you could please (like, really, all the PLEASEs) protect them for the rest of the season, we would really appreciate it. Also, if you could perhaps inspire Bobo with a little less running and a little more throwing, I bet your name would be screamed at TVs a lot less frequently this weekend.

In your nothin’-finer-in-the-land name we pray,

Amen.

And GO DAWGS!

PS. Thanks for that whole Tebow thing, by the way.

Lewis Grizzard called Clemson "Auburn with a lake."

Dear 8lb, 9oz tiny, perfect, football-inventing baby Jesus in the manger.

Ohmyyou Ohmyyou Ohmyyou!!! I just can’t believe it! Though as a Christian what with the whole miracles thing, I’m not sure why not… It’s FOOTBALL SEASON, Jesus!!! Today our long-loved and impatiently-awaited Bulldogs take on the Tigers (which I hear are really just glorified house cats) from some remote redneck land in South Carolina. I know you said we should love our neighbors and stuff, baby Jesus, but REALLY!

Oh man (made in your image), Jesus! Do you remember that time I almost went to Clemson? Thank you for showing me the light and seeing to it that I couldn’t find a bar for miles while I was touring their campus.  And all of that orange. Barf. Honestly, Jesus. Orange is sort of like your one big mistake. (Well, that and Tim Tebow, but I get that you guys have a thing.) I can’t think of a single good thing having to do with orange.  Just think - Florida, Tennessee, Auburn, and now these yahoos. GROSS!

Jesus, I reckon I don’t know much about folks outside the Gloryland of the SEC. I mean, why would I? But from what I understand, second only to the dumb-dumbs plowing their way through schools in Alabama, all the not so bright ones found their way to Clemson. I mean, they didn’t even name their own mascot, Jesus! And their stadium is named after a place ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COUNTRY. I know you have your own special plan in place for them, little lord, but I sincerely pray that includes getting their hineys whooped by Georgia today! The only thing they really have going for them is that they hate Spurrier, too. But, it was your command that we hate Satan, so I hardly think they should get points for that.

Football season is an amazing time to be a Georgia Bulldog, tiny savior. Thank you for our beautiful campus, for lovely girls and handsome boys in their Saturday best, for fall afternoons at Sanford Stadium, for the chill bumps every Georgia fan feels when we hear that old bell ringing. Thank you for Coach Richt and all of our players. And for our mostly crime-free, uninteresting off-season. Hallelujah! And finally Jesus, thank you, (and this one might just be from me, but I feel like I represent a good number of Georgia fans so I feel ok saying it) for Jack Daniels.

Bless over our boys today, lordlet. May they have quick feet, sure hands and the strength of, well, Bulldogs! Please keep everyone safe from injury, even those stupid Tigers, and Jesus, if you could, remind us today why college football is the best darn thing on Earth.

In your sweet, soft, Southern-thrill-lovin’ name we pray.

Amen.

AND GO DAWGS!

You probably won't understand this because I'm not a parent...

Due to the on-the-fence nature of my feelings toward children, friends often send me blogs and buzzfeeds and articles about being a non-parent and what it means to make the choice to or to not have kids. One such blog has come to me on a couple of instances now, so I decided to write my own, non-trite version of it. Mostly I just wanted to do it with swear words.  Without further ado...

Things Parents Shouldn't Say to Non-Parents, as told by Jenn Ciccarelli


1. So when are you going to have kids?
The most honest answer I can give you on this one is that it's really none of your effing business. I mean, seriously, why do you want to know? I secretly think it's because the misery of motherhood wants more company, but this is just when you'll tell me how happy you are as a mother and how you just want to share in my joy with me. Not buyin' it. Also, what happens when you ask this of someone who wants children desperately but can't have them. You're a total asshole.

Even if I were sure about wanting kids, the when part of it is, when I'm ready. When I want to. When my significant other and I make the decision, together, to do so. Not when some random lady at the grocery store notices that I'm not 25 anymore and assumes I'm fighting a losing battle against an ovarian clock. When will I have kids? When I do. Go make your life interesting so you can stop worrying about mine.

2. You'll change your mind.
Y'all know how I feel about this one. It irks me more than the majority of things you could ever say to me for like, a million reasons. I'm 32 years old. As such, I've spent a pretty considerable amount of time with myself and my decisions are based on years worth of life that you don't know anything about. The balls with which others assume rights over my decision process are the biggest, most frustrating around. What certainty you have about what goes on inside my head! Do you think I'm going to be like, OMG, YOU ARE RIGHT! I'm going to go flush my birth control down the toilet RIGHT NOW? (I'm not. Leave me alone.)

The things is, perhaps I will change my mind. Then what? You'll be right? You'll have "I told you so" rights? Congratulations?

3. You don't know what you're missing.
This one is so much bullshit. Thank you for trivializing the choices I've made in my life with the assumption that unless I do what you do, my life in some way will end up less fulfilling. Honestly, what do you expect us to say when you say things like this? Because the only retort I've got for you, is going to hurt your feelings. Because there's no kind way to say...

"I've actually assessed everything about your situation and decided I can't think of a worse way to waste my time on this planet. I actually do know what I'd be missing. I'd be missing sleep. And the ability to lay in bed all morning. And adult television shows. And vacations to places like Iceland vs. places like Disney. I'd miss my body. My free time. The ability to come and go as I please and make my own choices and the freedom to just be me, forever."

The answer is...I'd miss everything. So stop for a second before you say this to a stranger and realize they've probably considered just about every angle of their choice and don't make us have to say something mean to you.

4. Little Junior sat up today. (Or crawled. Or ate solid food. Or discovered his own dick.)
Right. And the sun also rose and set. And scientific breakthroughs beyond our wildest imaginations occurred. And there might be life in space. And Gretchen from Real Housewives proposed to her boyfriend.

Ok, not the last one. But the point is, pretty much everything is more interesting to a non-parent, or, perhaps just me, but this is my blog, so I can generalize that it's everyone, than whatever pretty common milestone your little precious pea hit today. Seriously, on my Facebook alone, like, 15 kids learn to sit up every day.

In the universe that isn't centered inside your house, WAY COOLER SHIT HAPPENED so forgive me if I don't fall all over myself with excitement because you kid now does what 7 BILLION OTHER PEOPLE can do.

5. Is this party kid friendly?
No. Moving on.

6. Don't you think you'll regret it when you're old?
Fuck. Maybe? But who knows if I'll ever even be old. I could die before I finish this snarky blog post. Again. Assume I've probably considered this and if the answer were yes, I'd have kids. Seems fairly straightforward to me.

7. Isn't "this" cute?? (Whereby "this" is like, a monogrammed onesie or a diaper bag or some stuffed toy that you can program with your voice so Junior never gets lonely.)

No, actually, it's not really that cute. Sorry.

You know what's cute? Lambs. In Iceland. And not having kids means I get to go see them whenever I want.

PS. Quit taking pictures of your kids in fucking baskets. They are human beings, not dolls.

8. You know dogs aren't really kids right?
WHAT? NO? I HAD NO IDEA.

Ok, yes, idiot. I do know that dogs are not actually human children. It's just that since people are always talking to me about their kids (or about when I'm going to have some), I'm really just trying to relate to you in any lame way that I can. I'm glad my dogs aren't kids...cause then I'd have kids.

That said, my dogs are actually, totally human. ;)

9. You have no idea what being tired is like. (This one does not apply to working moms or single moms, cause y'all have the right to say you're more tired than me whenever you want. You are.)
Uhhhhh.....I never know what to say to this one either. Yes I do? I'm sorry, but you chose this life. You and all your mom friends at play group can talk about how tired you are. I guess the fact that I think my effing ass off the majority of the day is in NO way as exhausting as hours of Caillou and sing-a-longs. I also have to clean my house and do laundry and cook dinners and pay bills. Only, I don't have a "nap time" in which to accomplish these things. Don't be smug. It's annoying.

10. You just don't understand because you're not a mom.
Right. There are also things I don't understand because I'm not a rocket scientist. And I probably don't have many relatable experiences to say, a geneticist. And? You don't understand because you're not a marketer. Or because you're not Italian. Or because we're totally different effing people. We all have different life experiences and insides of our brains. No one can understand anything. Our "things" don't make us better. They just make us and I for one am sort of over the wars waged to make us feel lesser because we're making different choices.


And so I shall close with this. Please leave your non-parent friends, family and strangers alone. We're fine, we promise. And just think; it will give you more time to spend with those kids you want us to have so much.