Don’t ask what the lightsaber’s for.
Dear Cal,
I know we’ve only seen each other once before, but apparently the thorough dicking you received during the Truman administration was so great you couldn’t help but ask us to come back for more.
So here we are, yet again, the Gator Bowl Champion Wildcats visiting Berkeley for the first time since the Soviets went all nuclear and since the sad hippie burnout Golden Bears last retained any sense of national relevance. And this time, Fitz and his 22nd nationally-ranked crew come bearing a message:
Get fucked Cal.
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Sherman Ave 