1) I don't just smell blood, I can taste it. I'm in Gator Country. I was raised there. I was born in Gainesville. I have a degree from the University of Florida!!! But by the grace of God, my Moultrie-bred father injected me with a red and black serum that has allowed me to fend off intense Gator indoctrination camps as a child and labor through the daily attacks and annual humiliation I've endured as a teen and adult. But today... today... it all changes. It's my time. It's our time!!! Today, we retake our rightful place in this rivalry. Oh yes... make no mistake, it's not revenge he's after, it's a reckoning!!! That's right, after today, when the answer is "the people responsible for alligator extinction and the early retirement of Urban Meyer", rest easy knowing the question is "Who let the Dawgs out?!?!?!"
2) Perhaps the reason my poem scored so low in the poll was because the last line didn't resonate enough with the voters. "So 1... 2, 3, 4, and 5, dem dere Gata won't make it out alive" was a reference to the end of this fine example of American eloquence: