Raw, Girthy and Cut Business School For Bastardos

During hell week of my college football days, we had a coach who gleamingly talked about "ye ol' bastardos" while we stretched for practice in grueling triple-digit heat. Who were the bastardos? According to coach, these bastardos were yawning and barely waking up to the smell of mom's fresh blueberry pancakes with "the warm maple syrups" and melted butter, while we endured two-a-days of college football hell. With Southern California ashes raining from the sky and fires raging, I pictured ...