Arrogant Game Preview: Oregon Ducks - Lost Angeles
I am deep in an undisclosed forest right now enjoying a meal strange enough for an Indiana Jones film (by the way, Indiana Jones is fifth on a list of 37 people both fictional and real I have been basing my training on). This meal is part of a society of chefs too wild for normal chef duties, so they come to the wild and hunt and cook their own prey. I got an evite, so I rolled.
I had totally forgotten about today’s post until one chef (Olek) brought out a croque en bouche of pickled duck face mousse puffs. An impressive feat, but it made one ugly image pop into my head. Donald Duck’s rapist brother Puddles.
Look at his crotch-shot pose. Look at his dilated eyes from drinking back-country moonshine and sniffing glue. Look at his outfit, clearly designed to lure in drunken sailors and boarding school children. His furry fingers devoid of fingerprints. This is a story of love-lost, drug addiction, northwestern ambivalence and possibly tied to years living in the Portland underground (which is a real thing where they’d trap drunks and press them into servitude).
How did Puddles turn into this wide-eyed coke fiend? Look at his roots...
He started as Donald Duck re-purposed by Disney, which kind of shows you that before Nike, Oregon wasn’t getting much respect. At least Sparky the Pedodevil was an original creation Disney made for ASU, even if it is embarrassing. I just want to know why Puddles has gone so far down the wrong path.
I think it’s because he hangs out with the wrong crowd.
The visored impostor!
This is who has been drugging and teaching Puddles with an almost Sith-like mind-warp. Once a Disney character, now a drug trafficking deviant who is so jacked up on pain-killers and moonshine, he feels no pain doing thousands of pushups a game (Oregon does score a lot, ironically, not so much people from Oregon). Frankly, I’m not sure Puddles even knows he is at a game at this point. Duck a l’orange would be a better end than the one he has coming...