By J.M. Comer
You people are horn-dogs. Horny, horny bastards and bastardettes (meaning the ladies, or is there another term? I forget).
And I love it.
Why am I saying these things? Well, you people prove my bold assertion week in and week out.
The streaking-Playboy-coed-swimsuit stories seem to always populate our top-viewed posts (see “Top Posts” at right-hand side below).
Perverts! Blinded by the power of sex! All of you!
But, in a bold move to glue more eyes to the electric sex of the Internets and give ’em what they want, we here at The War Eagle Reader offer … ahem … dim the lights please …
Remember those carefree fall days in college, rolling in the dead grass with Auburn cheerleaders? Sure, we all do. The cold grasp of the autumn air, and the smell of dead leaves and Lady Speed Stick always triggers images like this one for me.
Hot! Hot! Hot! I think two of them are making out in the left corner. Incredible. It’s probably best not to dwell too long on this photo. Something might short circuit. Isn’t your bible study class tonight? This photographer was in the right place at the right time. Pulitzer Prizes are won for such photographed moments.
Ladies, looking for a mysterious Auburn fan with passion? This grimace comes in two flavors: post-touchdown or mid-coitus.
TWER offers Tip #37 to all the playahs: Throw on your old, battle-worn Auburn ball cap; hit the party rockin’ it; and thank us later. To all the ladies: You cannot resist.
I’m hoping that this is the photo that bumps this post to the top. There is no way in hell it’s real. The tattoo is definitely Photoshopped on her and the Tiger in the background was clearly added too, but this is my ringer. I’m playing to the crowd.
Clearly, this photo is the real deal. Tigerwalkin’ Kenny Irons says, “Take my hand and I’ll show you pleasures you’ve never known.”
And finally, the tiger, the myth, the legend, Auburn Stud Numero Uno, Aubie. ‘Nuff said.