From Transworld’s Monday Kickstart
Everyone knows that K-Dub is the shit. He is a man among BROs, a connoisseur of killing it. Take a look at this photo; here stands a man who orders a Budweiser, takes it from the bartender, and receives a tip for ordering it. People pay K-Dub to park his car, as well they should. The piece of that shirt that he cut off will later be broken down and used to create only one drop of Sex Panther, which is a lethal dose for men who are not Kevin Windham, who uses it by the bottle, when he is not secreting it from his own skin. His wife would never mistake that bulge in his pocket for what you might mistake it for, because she knows that whatever is protruding from his pocket is much too small. He once asked her to make a sandwich for him, and it was finished on the plate before he finished the sentence.
They say that the beard hair that is not in Windham’s goatee is used to create elaborate furs for Saudi Arabian royalty, effectively making K-Dub’s facial hair the chief American export in the oil trade. His beer gut alone attracts more women per square inch than the entire city of New Orleans. Those women account for over half of the female enrollment of Mississippi State. One time a man tried to dress up as Kevin Windham for Halloween, and the resulting explosion when he put the costume on was filmed as the closing scene in Caddyshack. In that man’s memory, Windham does transfers at every race in opening ceremonies. He does them in the dark because swagger works like sonar, not that he needs it, because he could literally do that shit with his eyes closed. He rides so smooth that Land O’ Lakes once asked him to ride for them. Windham refused, since he prefers Jack and Coke on his pancakes. They still paid him for the privilege of the conversation. This, people, is the art of swag. Don’t try to stop it.