I’m The Couch Texas Tech Fans Burned In The Streets After Their Final Four Victory

I’m The Couch Texas Tech Fans Burned In The Streets After Their Final Four Victory
News reports, social media, and everyone in the digital sphere have been shaming Lubbock’s Texas Tech fans over the rowdy riots proceeding the Red Raiders Final Four victory on Saturday night. Lubbockites have taken to Facebook and Twitter writing heartfelt defenses of the caliber of people in the region. The flipped car and the burned couch does not portray a fair representation of how people are around here they claim.Take it from me, though; I’m the couch who was incinerated on the altar of an underdog win against Michigan State University, and I’m here to set the record straight.Thank you,

The flipped car and the burned couch does not portray a fair representation of how people are around here they claim.

This is the best death any couch could imagine..

Drunken college kids for doing me this honor. I deserved it, to go out in a flame of glory as I did that fateful evening.

Most furniture doesn’t get the “send off” I did. It was exhilarating to say the least. Most who’ve gone before me usually end up ignored in a field somewhere, or worse, getting pushed into heaps of trash by a dozer in some city dump. I’ve heard of more than one Ethan Allen relegated to disintegrating under the sun near an alley dumpster too little for its plush rolled arms and loose back. Needless to say, when Jeb spit Copenhagen on me before he said to his six roommates, “Let’s burn this bitch!” My life flashed before my eyes in a beautiful moment of sweet release when not one person thought it was a bad idea… And this wasn’t the first time I heard that in my long, haggard life.

Just imagine for a moment how hard it must be being a couch in a college town. Those boys did me a favor. No longer will I have to catch the crumbs and half chewed remnants of another disgustingly simple and cretinous Jimmy John’s sandwich. Going in or coming back out. No more demeaning strip searches from a sorority sister whose fried vocal cords screech about how much that missing lip gloss cost, “Ond you bahtter help meh finedaht. Ahm seriyass!” No more frat bros reaching and grabbing into my every cavernous fold chasing another lost nug, 25 mg bean, or remote. When I say my life flashed before my eyes I didn’t mean I would miss any of it. It’s been quite a ride. There was the flunkie who didn’t move or shower for a week. His friends thought he was dead, of course I still felt the warmth of life in him. Not to mention countless ping-pong paddles broken in a rages across my fluffy humps. And lastly, lets just say the unexperienced hands of a 22 year-old aren’t the most offensive things my crannies have been stuffed with.

I hope you can see why when they hauled me into the street Saturday night my heart leapt as tear gas whizzed just feet beyond my faux-black walnut rolled arm. Needless to say, there is a lot of hand-me-down furniture out there that wishes things would have gone differently Monday night.

Guest Column by JJ Scott

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