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I love it. The Big 12 apologists in this thread are like the losers who tell everyone in the bar how much their shirt cost in hopes that it will get them laid. Then, when that doesn't work, they pick a fight with the guy in a t-shirt and jeans who is leaving with the girl. In the end, all they're ever left with is a fat lip, a bloody shirt, and a crusty wad of tissues.
Sadly, they'll be back at the bar tomorrow with a new shirt, a band-aid, and supreme confidence that this will be the night everything finally turns around.
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Today is not a good day to be a pussy.
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