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I am writing this article under extreme duress. The events of the past week, starting with The Longhorn/Arkansas game last weekend and leading up until my bi-weekly court date in a couple of hours, have built up on my mind like a housing evelopment. My being bothered and distracted while writing has been known to lead to some realty shitty results. Take my last article, for instance. Jesus, what a piece of shit.
That thing sucked so much dick, I swear to God it caught AIDS. It’s only fitting that it turned up in what had to have been the worst edition of Rank and Revue ever. Maybe I’m sort of Like King Arthur, and this magazine is my Camelot. Whenever I suck, the mag sucks with me? Or, maybe I’m just an asshole. I’ll let you, the reading public, decide.

Anyway, I’m sorry about that last attempt, and I promise to do better in the future. The real shame is, I feel like I didn’t do my good friend Lindsey (Buckingham) justice. He is a very entertaining individual, and to do such a bad job of presenting him to my readers is really deplorable. (See the story of the cop on acid in “The Delicate Art of Compromise”, Issue 17.) Maybe it was because, for the first time, I opted to use a pseudonym while talking about somebody. I only did this in his best interests, but I’m afraid that compromising my journalistic integrity like that may have stifled my creativity. All right, fuck it, his name is Jason Lindsey, are you happy now? Anyway, I was going to layoff some of my raunchier stories for a while, but I really have nothing left to offer. I feel like Ernest Hemingway in his 60’s. Anybody got a shotgun?

So, it’s two years ago in early March, and the UIL Boy’s High School Basketball State Championship Tournament is back in town. (This Tournament, by the way, is far and away one of the best events in Austin every year. If you’ve been missing it, correct yourself.) This was the season after T.J. Ford led Willowridge to the 5A State Title, and a Number 1 ranking in the country, I do believe. Anyway, Coach Bob Cook, Brazoswood High School legend (and father of Shane Cook, Brazoswood High School footnote,) was up in town as usual for the tournament
with a couple of extra tickets. I headed over to the La Quinta Inn next to Star Seeds Cafe late night before the tournament to get the tix for Jim Isaacs and myself.

When I got to Coach Cook’s hotel room, he was visiting with a younger coach whom he had worked with at Brazoswood, but who was now coaching at Pflugerville. I forget the gentleman’s name. I ended up hanging out at the room with the two of them for a couple of hours, listening to them talk about the politics of coaching high school basketball in Texas. Apparently, Brazoswood’s football program had been putting extreme and unfair demands on Coach Cook’s time with his athletes.

I always find a certain calm when in the company of decent people like Coach Cook, or my parents. It reminds me of a life that may have been, and affords me brief, fleeting comfort from the hell I have created in my own time on earth. When in these situations, I always try to be on my best behavior, and I was doing so that particular night. Then the phone rang. Coach Cook answered it and I could tell right away by the confused look on his face that Evil was seeping into the room. I felt drawn towards it. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak up, I can’t hear you”, Coach Cook said. “This is Bob Cook, who is this?” he continued, “We’re just sitting
here in the room, Who Is This?” I had already assumed that it was a whore on the phone when my eyes met with Coach Cook’s. He had already assumed (years earlier) that I was a lecherous son-of-a-bitch, and would know exactly how to handle such a confusing situation. “Here, talk to Chad” he said, and handed me the tele.

I put the phone up to my ear and heard the whispered question that excite me for days on end, and haunt me for years to come..... “ What are you dooooing?” “Not, much, just sitting here with Coach Cook and Coach so-and-so, what are you doing?” I answered. The reply was the same.... ”What are you dooooing” “Who is this?” I asked. “Nicooole”, the voice cooed. I knew we had us a live one. My diabolical mind had already decided on how I was going to tactfully meet up with this slut right under Coach Cook’s nose. I spoke a little while longer.... bullshit...gibberish mostly, and then announced to the caller and, more specifically, to the room, “Well, this is Coach Cook’s hotel room, and I think you have the wrong number. I should go, but if you really need help, you can call me back on my cell phone, 297-5423”, then hung up the phone.

As expected, my cell phone began ringing almost immediately and, as the two bewildered coaches looked on, I enacted phase two of my scheme. “Wow, I can’t believe she really called!” I announced, digging the phone from my pocket. “Hello?” I answered. “What are you dooooing?” is the reply. “Jim! Holy.... I thought you were going to be someone else!”, I say. The coaches laughed in relief, my plan coming to fruition. “ Do you want to fuck me?” “Aww, nothing man, just over here picking up our tickets for tomorrow, hanging out with Coach Cook, what are you up to?” “My pussy is all wet.” “Downtown?? What time is it??” I ask, looking at the cell phone for confirmation. “Do you want to fuck it?” “Aww man, I’m sorry I totally lost track of time over here, how long have you been waiting?” “Tell me about your cock, is it hard?” “No, no I’m sorry man, calm down. I’m on my way to get you right now. OK. Yeah. Bye.” “Do you want to touch it for me?” I pretended to hang
up the phone and get up, explaining to the coaches that I’m late to meet my buddy. It was a wonderful evening, but I really must be going. On my way to the car, Nicole explains to me that no, I can’t come over, because she is in a house full of sleeping roommates, hence the whispering. She would, however, like to talk dirty to me while I beat off on the phone. I was only too happy to oblige. I went to my car in the
Star Seeds parking lot, put the phone on speaker, and jacked off while telling Nicole what a big cock I have. I must admit, I was really turned on by the fact that there was a girl so dirty and slutty as to just call random strangers in a hotel room to have phone sex with. I knew it was only a matter of time before I would get to meet Sweet Miss Nicole in person.

The next morning I went to the tournament. Jim couldn’t come to the early games due to work, so I had my son with me. As we were waiting outside the Erwin Center for Coach Cook to come meet us so we could go to lunch at the Brick Oven, I was musing to myself about how I had pulled one over on the old boy the night before. I saw his huge frame approaching through the crowd. He walks up to me (I’ve got
my kid on my shoulders) and the first thing he says is “So, did you get any?” I was like “ What? Did I get any what? Who? No, Jim ,I, that was weird huh?” Coach Cook goes, “Yeah, she was a hooker.” I continued my façade, “A hooker? You really think so?” Bob assures me, “Oh yeah, she was a hooker…. Ole Nicole.” Surprised, I ask “Damn Coach Cook, you remember her name?” He says, “Oh yeah. She called back.”

Wrapping up, Nicole ends up calling me back several times, every time opening with the “What are you doooing?”. The first time, a couple of mornings later, I was on my way out the door to work. (Yes, I used to work.) I was so pleased to be remembered, I took a little pit stop in the restroom and beat myself down again, tie and all. She was still whispering though, which I found to be odd. She explained it off to me as still having guests over. I explained it off to myself as her being a horny housewife in a laundry room with a houseful of kids in the background. Ok, you know where this is going fuckers. YES, Nicole was a man, that sick son-of-a-bitch. I finally got him to admit it about three instances later. He was always such a nice guy, why did he lie?

Anyway, I don’t know if you went to that atrocity of a game last week, (UT/ARKANSAS) but I know Brazoswood High School footnote Shane
Cook was there, because I was with him. Jesus Christ, the Longhorns looked like a fucking Catholic abortion. I realize I was right on the nose about Greg Davis, but I do regress about thinking everything was going to blow up as late as Kansas State or Oklahoma. The defense, by the way, should be sold into slavery for that performance. Every fucking one of them. I am not at all impressed by the win over Rice. This was to be expected, and proves nothing. I am optimistic about Roy William’s pledge to run the table from here on out, and hope that that will
be enough to overcome the second phase of what has become Mack Brown’s pattern of failure. Phase 1: Kick the shit out of some crappy teams at beginning of season only to lose to the first decent team you play. Phase 2: Respond by kicking the shit out of another string of crappers and then lose to Tech and/or a Bowl Opponent.

Also, I finally got to take in a High School game, and watched Austin High get stomped by Leander. Kern, the Leander running back looked
very good with 200+ yards and 5 touchdowns in less than 3 full quarters. I would like to close by urging you to go see Burnet’s Jordan Shipley play before he graduates and comes to UT. Then, you can say “I remember back when…..”

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