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Why I hate Hawaii, a poem by OBNUG's Kevan

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I hate Hawaii for so many reasons,
in so many ways and in so many seasons.

I hate them in springtime, I hate them in summer.
Losing the WAC to them sure was a bummer.

I hate them in autumn; they think they're the balls.
I hate them in winter; they stick in my craws.

The Warriors are cocky; they're brazen and brash.
I equate Davone Bess with yesterday's trash.

Wearing leis is for sissies or grown men named June.
The run 'n shoot offense could be run by a baboon.

That gimmicky "O" is for girls and school children.
I hate that I have to spell Solomon Elimimian.

There's nothing as bad as a Warrior touchdown celebration.
No wait. I lied. There's Colt Brennan's island hair gentrification.

Remember the Sugar Bowl? What a disaster.
Could they have thrown away non-BCS credibility any faster?

Their uniforms look like an Under Armour advertisement.
Their mascot, I assume, lives vicariously through them, and likes it.

I hate how the Warriors think Brennan's a god.
He's a younger, more mobile version of "Johnson, Rob."

I hate watching Hawaii with their downfield attackin',
(though I love watching the sideline bewilderment of McMackin).

In conclusion, I can't stand one thing about Hawaii.
As such, I can't wait til we beat them on Friday.