I’ve been advised by my hate recovery sponsor that when I feel the hate building up, I should sit in an empty room and shout my hate into the void. I’ve tried to be nice this year, honestly, I have. Even when my heart is pregnant with hate, I’ve attempted swallow it down, or at least cover it in literary references I know the opposing fan base can’t comprehend (see F.S.U.).
This week, however, I just can’t do it. I’m a hate volcano in desperate need of a small eruption to ease the pressure. Luckily for my recovery, Louisville fans have totally given up on football this year, and the few that haven’t graduated from a glorified junior college / correspondence school in Northern Kentucky and can’t comprehend this anyway.