I gotta be honest. I was having a hard time getting fired up about the game on Saturday, for the obvious reasons.

Then I visited UW Dawg Pound, and it was like I was suddenly hooked up to one of those defibrilators. Duly jolted, I remembered why I hate every last one of those bastards* and hope they lose every game in every sport from here until the end of eternity. I feel rejuvenated.

In what has become a debacle of a football season, if we can somehow figure out a way to win on Saturday, I will take as much joy in cementing their winless season as any Washington State University athletic accomplishment in my lifetime. It would feel that good.

They deserve every last bit of misfortune that comes their way just for being the pompous jerks that they are.

Screw them.

Screw them all.

* Erika, if you read this, I don't hate you, since you're family and all. (Even though you did buy that hideous shirt for my son.) And my dad? He doesn't really count, since he paid for a significant portion of my WSU education and buys my son WSU gear.

But Drew? Yup! There was nothing more fun than watching him drink away his sorrows last year. I look forward to that again on Saturday.