We have obtained this video through the Ogle Mole Network. It displays the wrath of Gary England:
Jump. Back. Loretta. That’s the coolest thing I’ve seen since Clark Matthews’ showed me his vintage collection of Vampire erotica.
Man, Gary looked pissed. Just imagine how that little staffer felt after being scolded by him. This would be my reaction:
1. Relief. He didn’t make you disintegrate on the spot. That’s nice.
2. Grief. I get all sad and disappointed when I upset my Grandma. I can’t imagine what it would be like to upset Gary. I would rank it somewhere between the time you stole gum from a grocery store and a late-term abortion.
3. Fear. Once you realize that you upset Gary England you will probably live your life in constant fear of rain, lightning and being crushed by a mountain of teacup sized hail.
Anyway, I wonder what Gary said to the person to make News 9 cut the audio. Rumor has it that Gary dropped a four letter word that rhymes with “Duck,” but I’m not sure if I buy that. It was probably something more like “I’ll keep you advised, bitch” or “Suck my doppler radar” instead.
During last year’s Winter Weather Death Watch, we brought to you the Gary England Drinking Game, Winter Weather Rules edition. It’s basically like the regular Gary England Drinking Game, but instead of drinking whenever Gary says things like Hook Echo or Wall Cloud, you take a drink whenever Gary says things like Freezing Drizzle or Jackknifed Trailer.
It also inspired Gary to give us a shout out — and help get people drunk — twice.
Anyway, a re-post of the game with some updated rules are after the jump. Check it out. Also, check us out TLO tomorrow as we live blog the excessive wall-to-wall coverage of the winter weather event.
p.s. – If you do play the game, send us video. Please.
Alright, who pissed of Gary England?
My guess is it’s this guy whose back now looks like Patrick’s during the brief period of time he was really into body building. Whatever he did to coax the man who controls the weather to pelt him with ice from the sky is having adverse collateral damage to everyone else.
Because everyone is very concerned, Matthews Manor was in the line of the storm. In fact, I’m pretty sure that when I turned on my TV to watch game one of the Eastern Conference finals, the arrow Rick Mitchell was drawing from Kingfisher was pointed directly at my house.
The thing was, at that time, the temperature was about eighty degrees, it was so sunny outside that my skin had chastized me for sweeping the front porch five minutes earlier, and there was hardly any breeze. Thirty minutes later, I was restricting the ClarkPupp (who, for the first time in his life, demanded to play next to the picture window) to the sofa while the gods used my property as a driving range.
I actually got off kind of lucky. My six month old roof, and gutters are dented to hell, but my giant tree limited the amount of hail damage to my car and kept any windows from being broken out. One of my side mirrors got busted, though, so Gary is going to have to deal with those seven years of bad luck.
Afterward, the ground was covered in healthy looking leaves, sticks, and a thick coating of ice that created enough steam to make Oklahoma City look like Tim Burton’s vision of Sleepy Hollow. The goth kids in town were as excited as Chad when Cinemax runs a free preview weekend.
After half a day of cleaning up storm debris, though, you would hardly be able to tell that the sky opened up on us, at all, if it weren’t for the army of roofing contractors deluging the neighborhood including a single engine plane flying a sign a hundred feet overhead. Except now, there is even more severe weather headed this way. Something must be done. We must appease Lord Gary.
So, in the comment section, I invite you to massage the ego of our most powerful weather forecaster. Otherwise, we might have a snownado next week during an earthquake.
So it begins!
Before we start today’s match-ups, we should let everyone know that the Ghost of Ed Gaylord beat the Ghost of Oral Roberts by a vote of 237 – 176 in the Ogle Madness play-in game. I’m not sure what that means, but either way, it’s scary.
Also, here are some more things to review before we officially tip- off Ogle Madness;
“¢ Here is the 65 man/women/thing tournament bracket. This one may be easier to view and print than the previous one we posted. Also, we eliminated some typos. To stay true to form, we added some, too.
“¢ Some people have asked us what the voting criteria is for Ogle Madness. Basically, there isn’t any. I guess it’s just vote for whoever you want to advance or for who you like more. That is, of course, unless you are voting for Patrick. Patrick is handsome. He’s also possibly writing this.
“¢ In Ogle Madness, polls are open for only one day. That means you need to drop by each day to cast your vote for each round or region.
“¢ Please don’t be a tool and try to rig the ballot box.
“¢ If you want a good recap of last year’s bracket, check out the “One Shining Moment” video above.
Anyway, to today’s games. They come from the top half of the East Region. Here are the match ups:
(1) Gary England vs. (16) Chad Istook
(8) Bob Barry, Jr. vs. (9) Al Eschbach
(4) Jessica Schambach vs. (13) J’Ordy
(5) Amy McRee vs. (12) Larry Nichols
Read about each participant and vote after the jump!
This past weekend, a Lost Ogle reader got trapped at America’s Pub in Bricktown. To prove it, they sent us the following picture of the screen where you can send text messages. We consider it a cry for help.
Actually, this is a pretty cool. It’s comforting to know that the masses were out celebrating Gary England Day. It’s also good to know that Kristin Gilpin probably got a kiss, and that Katrice’s boobs looked amazing. The reader mentioned that the phrase “Clark Matthews cheats at checkers,” also appeared on the big screen, but we don’t have any photo proof of that.
That being said, I think it’s disturbing that this photo was taken at America’s Pub in Bricktown. I feel sorry for the guy who was trapped there. Seriously, that place is a Douche Bag paradise. Go there on any Friday or Saturday night and you’ll see enough Affliction shirts and embroidered eagle wings to cause a seizure. Granted, that also means there are plenty of dumb hot chicks with big breasts and sun dresses in attendance, but it’s hard for me to care about that when I spend my typical evening being hand-fed lush grapes by European fashion models.
Anyway, maybe next year some bar will have an official Gary England Day party. I nominate either TapWerks, Nite Trips or Edna’s. And as long as the drinks are free, I’ll be there.
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