The Rumor Mill

I've been rather busy building some contacts within the Longhorn Football circle and it's starting to pay off. I found out from one source that Colt had enrolled in dance classes. Dance classes you ask? Well apparently our McCoy wants to improve his flexibility and stamina. Plus being the well mannered poon hound that he is, sometimes it takes a little ballroom dancing to really win over the ladies.
So 120 dollars later, I'm enrolled in a ballroom class but at my first lesson, Colt is nowhere to be found. By the by, I would really appreciate if you dedicated readers took some initiative and helped me recoup the costs. It turns out Colt has hired a publicist who also attends class with him and the whiny little bitch requires you speak to her before you can speak to Colt. So I approached the blonde bitchlet in her oversized sorority sweater at dance class and asked if it would be possible to set up a meet and greet with Colt. Yes, I phrased it like that, flashed my Erwin badge, and mumbled McCoy McBlog. She said Colt would rather not publicize his dance lessons and that I better just forget about it. I pried a little further and found out the real reason for Colt's lessons. Apparently #12 is hoping to make it onto the next season of Dancing With the Stars. He met Emmitt Smith at a luncheon and got some career advice, yadda yadda. When Colt finally arrived to dance class I was told it was general understanding that Colt was off limits. No one talks to him and he doesn't acknowledge anyone either.
That seemed a little strange and unbelievable. So in between foxtrots (oh come on, I wasn't really there to learn) I tried making casual conversation with Colt from across the room. Nothing really seemed to work. I finally had a chance during a quick water break. I introduced myself, flashed my Erwin badge, mumbled McCoy McBlog and launched into a line of questioning about Dancing With the Stars. Colt mumbled, smiled and darted off. That's when the bitchlet was back and said that Colt was disturbed by my presence and that I had to leave the class. I didn't think she had any real power over that decision but as it turns out, yes she does. Which explains how I am no longer allowed to pursue my love of ballroom on Wednesday nights from 8-10PM at the Texas Union.
But during my short lived attempt at dance fame I managed to snatch the following poster from the blonde's gym bag.