You whiny little frakkers.
You tiddlywink TTFP mother truckers.
Here I thought I was going to have to dig deep for this year's annual hatesterbation, what with all the Preemptive Hate Strikes, gif bombing, and my manifesto of hate hanging on my wall next to my collection of tasteful softcore pornography starring your respective mothers.
Don't you little sharts realize that you have one of the finest "writers" of our time "writing" for you? This well-meaning idiot slaves away over a hot keyboard all day, preparing a fine meal of in-jokes, #hottakes, and delusions of grandeur, and THIS is the thanks he gets?
It's not his fault he roots for the most dog-gam annoying team in the history of sport - NAY, THE HISTORY OF COMPETITIVE ENDEAVOR - because by golly, you all are fans of the same unconscionable program.
You pretentious, ungrateful, whiny little frakkers.
You act like you're fiddling Ohio State. You use the words "dynasty" and "unrivaled" and "integrity" but they are backed by nothing more than the passion of internet trolls and the ignorance of yeehaw backwater rednecks. You are a tribe of paper tigers. You are a collection of old money football dinosaurs, riding the coattails of your fallen hero, living off the name of your long-past legends.
You claim superiority over your regional rivals yet you find yourself looking up at them in the standings. You encourage those schools to "Shut it down" then lose out on #Trivalry greatness to your non-rivals. You shart all over your own Paterno-Damned writer; the guy who's volunteering his own time to try to bring you idiots a little bit of joy.
I should be thanking you. You've confirmed every backhanded compliment I've lobbed your way. You've validated every overt insult and every borderline-satirical characterization of you wanna-be Michigan State maroons. You've refueled my reserves for another year of hate.
Thank you, fans of the team from pennsylvania. Thank you.