Leading Blogger's Legal Document Revealed!

I, Orson Swindle, being of sound body and college football-addled mind, hereby declare this to be my last will and testament, revoking all wills and codicils heretofore made by me.

I hereby nominate and appoint Stranko Montana as my Executor. My Executor shall not be required to file inventories or reports with any court, or to give bond, and he shall serve with all those statutory rights, powers, and privileges provided to fiduciaries under the laws of Georgia.

In the event that Stranko Montana should be unavailable or unwilling so to serve, I nominate and appoint Peter Bean as my alternate Executor. My alternate Executor shall serve with all the rights, powers, and privileges granted to my original Executor, without curtailment or diminution thereof, and, if my original Executor declines to serve purely on account of being a wuss, I authorize and direct my alternate Executor to give my original Executor a hard time about it in the blogosphere.

I direct that my body be buried in a manner appropriate to my standing and station in life, accompanied by a simple ceremony presided over by Pete Jayhawk, whom I direct to utter the following words in the course of delivering my eulogy: "train wreck," "nomenclature," "stercoraceous," "Plantagenet," "sumptuous," and "click-clack."

I direct that my Executor pay all of my just debts, the expenses of my last illness and funeral, and the costs of administration of my estate as soon as is practicable following my death; provided, however, that priority of preference be given to the renewal of my Florida Gators football season tickets before the payment of any and all other debts or obligations of my estate.

I hereby give, bequeath, and devise the following specific bequests to the individuals named hereunder:

(a) To Peter Bean, I leave a locomotive engine, three (3) freight cars, two (2) passenger cars, and a caboose, on the condition that, as soon as is practicable after the distribution of my estate, he wreck the same during a live internet radio broadcast;

(b) To Brian Cook, I leave my pirated bootleg copy of the University of Florida's secret formula for how to beat the Ohio State Buckeyes in any sporting event; provided, however, that, upon his receipt of this bequest, he shall execute before a notary public and at least one unrelated witness a sworn statement affirming that the Florida Gators deserved to play in the BCS Championship Game at the end of the 2006 football season;

(c) To Jeremy Foley, I leave a mind-bogglingly large sum of money; provided, however, that, as a condition of the acceptance of this bequest, Jeremy Foley must rename The Swamp "Ben Hill Griffin Stadium at Orson Swindle Field";

(d) To Doug Gillett, I leave my tailgating supplies (including but not limited to my portable grill, spatula, tongs, condiments, compartmented plates, plasticware, Styrofoam cooler, and chef's hat and aprons emblazoned with witty sayings); provided, however, that he and all those tailgating with him shall observe a moment of silence in remembrance of me while using said supplies at the Bloggerpalooza immediately following the date of my death;

(e) To Heismanpundit, I leave Heismanpundit, which I can do, 'cause I own Heismanpundit;

(f) To Stranko Montana, I leave the manuscript of my unpublished autobiography Mustache Wednesday, Friday Cheesecake, and All the Other Days That Should Be Saturday: The Triumph and Tragedy of the Life of Orson Swindle, on the condition that he agree to do to it what Maxwell Perkins did to Look Homeward, Angel before letting Thomas Wolfe's debut novel see the light of day;

(g) To Reggie Nelson, I leave a bouquet of one dozen (12) freshly-cut long-stemmed red roses per week, to be delivered to him each Monday afternoon during the balance of his lifetime, or until a court of competent jurisdiction issues a temporary restraining order or permanent injunction barring the same from recurring;

(h) To Ragin' Cajun Rebel, I leave the sum of one hundred and 00/100ths U.S. dollars ($100.00) in cash, two (2) gallons of sour mash whiskey stored in Mason jars, a quart of barbecue sauce, a pint of Tabasco sauce, the carcass of a large and recently-killed hog, eight (8) strands of beads, a two-way airline ticket to and a week-long hotel room reservation in a location in Mexico identified in a separate document that I will leave for my Executor in a sealed envelope in a safe deposit box, and a forged passport bearing his photograph and the name "Eduardo Suave," all on the condition that he never divulge publicly the details of how he spent the week and what became of the beads;

(i) To Steve Spurrier, I leave one (1) large barrel of orange Gatorade, to be poured over him at the 50 yard line of Ben Hill Griffin Stadium at Orson Swindle Field during halftime of the Florida Gator spring game immediately following my death;

(j) To Warren St. John, I leave my dog-eared, highlighted, bookmarked, and hand-annotated copy of Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer and my folded, ripped, and accidentally-machine-washed-while-in-the-pocket-of-my-jean-shorts ticket stub from the 2005 Florida-Alabama game in Tuscaloosa;

(k) To Sunday Morning Quarterback, I leave my College Football Blogger Awards, although, if he wants to send Sacheen Littlefeather to refuse to accept them in protest of college football's failure to adopt an eight-team playoff, I will totally respect that;

(l) To Texas Gal, I leave one (1) drink of her choice, to be purchased for her by my Executor at a bar selected by her for the occasion; provided, however, that my Executor must blush on my behalf and in my stead whenever she says something flirtatious or even innocuous, provided that it is said in a husky voice;

(m) To Paul Westerdawg, I leave my complete set of "Munson's Greatest Calls" videos, which I keep hidden in a cardboard box in my basement and cleverly disguised in outer videotape sleeves indicating that they are pornographic motion pictures, so that my fellow Florida fans will not learn of my secret love of all things Munson; and,

(n) To [BENEFICIARY REDACTED], I leave my game day program from the 2004 Florida-Mississippi State game, which may be difficult to read because the pages are warped with my tears, the program itself is in two pieces because I ripped it apart in a fit of rage, and some portions are covered up with my scribbled notes on horrific fates I'd like to see [BENEFICIARY REDACTED] suffer and/or the blood of a fellow Gator fan whom I overheard saying that [BENEFICIARY REDACTED] deserved one more year; provided, however, that my Executor must distribute said bequest by [ACTION REDACTED] said program up, into, and/or through [BENEFICIARY REDACTED]'s [COLORFUL YET TECHNICALLY IMPRECISE ANATOMICAL DESCRIPTION REDACTED].

My Executor is empowered, in my Executor's sole and absolute discretion, to give to any of the foregoing, or to any other person(s) deemed worthy of such an honor, a siren of such variety as my Executor deems appropriate to the occasion.

I hereby give, bequeath, and devise the rest and residue of my estate, including my principal place of residence at the time of my death, any automobiles owned by me, my personal effects, my investments and securities, my accounts and insurance proceeds, any cash in my possession, all items of personal apparel (including but not limited to any and all flip-flops, jean shorts, tie-dyed T-shirts, golf visors, thong underwear, or other articles of clothing or adornment bearing the insignia or other identifying marks of the Florida Gators), all assets, shares, licenses, royalties, and profits of the burgeoning Every Day Should Be Saturday empire, my BlogPoll voting rights, and the votive candles, talismans, paraphernalia, bric-a-brac, and autographed sweat-stained Sugar Bowl jockstrap comprising the Danny Wuerffel shrine, being everything I have and own not previously bequeathed hereinbefore, to my wife, The Conscience of a Nation.

The foregoing was executed by the testator, in the presence of the undersigned witnesses, on a day that should have been Saturday in the year of our Lord 2007.

Orson Swindle

Witnessed by:
Kanu
Newspaper Hack