It started out as a Cub blog with cuss words. I'm still cussin'; it's the Cub part I'm a little squishy on these days.

The Sloth is not intended for younger or sensitive readers!

Illini Basketball
Bruce, we gave you tha keys, and THIS is what you brought home?

¿Dónde está mi dinero, las rameras?

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Monday, August 8

Go all the way with T.J.

If I had an oath for you all to take, it would go somethin' like this:

I pledge allegiance, to the frat, to all we hold holy, like Ryne Sandberg, Fergie Jenkins, Big Daddy Rick, Sweetness, the huge non-tippin' hands of Scottie Pippen, and fresh-faced sweet girls with tight, round asses, bonus points if they got them red hairs. And we don't pledge allegiance to all that sucks. Aging hookers shall shit on Joe Morgan, McStiff shall Eat Ass, Jim Edmunds shall shove hamsters up his pooper, and you would have to light the whole Shawnee National Forest on fire to smoke the crabs out of Britney Spears' sunken twat. Amen.

Anyway, TJ's Powderpuff Posse has expanded to include a blow-by-blow surveillance of any and all of the pubie-encrusted spizz that spews from Joe Morgan's suckhole. We here at the Sloth heartily endorse said venture, and in fact would gladly partake in any Holy Jihad against the arm-flappin' lizard, I'm only an e-mail away.

People love Big Dumb Ryne but they don't like YOUR Big Red ass, shitstick!!