Saved By the Blog - Est. 2004

I don't like Notre Dame. I don't like Irish people and their fair skin. I definitely don't like Charlie Weis or Brady Quinn, and frankly, I think Rudy was a bit of a bitch.  I do, however, love me a nice, big FUPA. 

To that end, I'm very pleased to have finally gotten my hands on my very own "Fear the FUPA" t-shirt, which features that saying on the front, and Charlie Weis' rather flattering silhouette on the back.  I can't wait for all the classy ladies of Southern Maryland to come flockin' to me when I sport this at the next Nationals game (no, this isn't me modeling the shirt. I have much broader shoulders):

Although we all know, there is nothing to fear but fear itself when encountering a FUPA in person.  They are your friends, and should be addressed as such. Unless you stare at one directly in the eye, in which case they may show signs of aggression, especially in Philadelphia and remote parts Western Pennsylvania.

PREVIOUSLY: FUPA Face-Off Part One and Deux.

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