Oxford Underwear Bandit: Justice and Cash

There are two things we hold sacred here at the blog-- justice and cash money. When the pursuit of those comes together, there's no holding us back. So it is that we take on the case of the Oxford underwear bandit, where local Lafayette County authorities (a modern-day version of the Untouchables) have put out a $1,000 reward for information leading to the thief's capture.

Between June 5 and Sept. 5, Oxford police have dealt with a dozen break-ins where a suspect -- the same person, police believe -- has entered young women's homes, stealing only their underwear -- ignoring jewelry, electronics and other valuables.

Almost all cases have involved students at the University of Mississippi, with one case being a recent Ole Miss graduate; the exception being a 36-year-old mother who police describe as "very young-looking."

The suspect has tended to strike between 7:30 a.m. and 11 p.m., always with the home uninhabited -- although in one case, a woman returned within three minutes of the break-in, thanks to a home alarm system

http://www.commercialappeal.com/news/2010/sep/12/underwear-thief-targets-homes-of-women-attending/

After extensive research and surveillance, we've narrowed it down to five prime suspects:

Rebel the Black Bear

Description: A large black male, full shiny coat of hair, smells of berries

Last Known Residence: The Ewok Village on Hawthorn Road next to Campus Walk

Current Occupation: Mascot hopeful and the constant search for sweet, sweet honey.

Motives: Known forager, possible family history of petty larceny, intrigued by musky smells, naturally curious

Alibi: Has never stolen anything he couldn't eat, and thongs get caught in his teeth.

Jackie Spears

Alias: Dr. Teeth

Description: Young black male with a luminous smile.

Last Known Residence: Memphis, Tn

Current Occupation: Grillin' the shit out of anything that moves.

Motives: To get caught and bring his mugshot glory to the greater Oxford area.

Alibi: Has never actually seen a pair of women's underwear. They dissolve as soon as he opens his mouth. To Jackie Spears, "panties" are as real as leprechauns.

Billy Cannon

Alias: Legend, Louisiana State Inmate #13334956

Description: 6'1, 220 lbs, cloven feet, smells of sulfur and corndogs, head like a Dick Tracy villain

Last Known Residence: Angola, Louisiana

Current Occupation: Director, Louisiana State Prison Medical Director/Eluding sneak attacks by maniacal Billy Brewer still trying to tackle him.

Motives: Known theft of other valuable Ole Miss trophies, including 1959 National Championship.

Alibi: Only runs at midnight. Also, still has the underwear of every first born daughter in the state of Louisiana mailed to him on their 15th birthday in keeping with Napoleonic law and the "Billy Cannon Appeasement Act," the last piece of legislation signed by Governor/Mental Patient Earl K. Long.

Pete Boone

Alias: God's Banker

Description: Gray around the ears, black around the heart, polyester around the waist.

Last Known Residence: An army cot in Robert Khayat's laundry room.

Current Occupation: Ole Miss Athletic Director/Meter Maid/Author

Motives: The only way to profitably scalp the rest of his season tickets for this year's home games would be to partner them with slightly-used coed lingerie in his eBay listings...also could be used to help move the inventory of his latest novel.

Alibi: If he was indeed guilty, could not resist the offer of $1,000 to turn himself in, though he would weep tears of betrayal into the bills for nights afterward...just like after David Cutcliffe was fired.


Lefty Testudo



Alias: Frequently answers to, "Hey you, stop pissing on my hedges."

Description: Like the starting center for the Lollipop Guild's intramural basketball team with a skill set and lifestyle mirroring Lithuanian legend Arvydas Sabonis late in his career.

Last Known Residence: Winters in the pine straw piles behind the Ole Miss physical plant, but summers on the cool tile floors of the AOPi House lobby.

Current Occupation: Evangelizing against the evils of Canadian whiskey/Perfecting the practice of "Blackout Mondays"/Burrows like nobody's business

Motives: History of high-risk behavior involving the residences of Ole Miss women and strange mating habits in the wild...also a known forager.

Alibi: Only interested in plus size women's underwear, otherwise they won't fit fully over his head, leaving him susceptible to sunburn.

Late Breaking Bullitein Update, New Suspect is Added:

Kenny "The Snake" Stabler
From his autobiography "Snake"about Raiders training camp:

"The collecting of female undergarments," Stabler wrote, "became an annual rite of training camp for many of the Raiders . . . I liked to tack my collection up on the walls."

Stabler also has a history with Oxford's second favorite criminal offense and defending the Redneck cultural traditions under fire by the Man,

"All I wanna do is drive around in my truck and drink Jack Daniels... and they just don't understand."

Is This The Beginning? No, But You Can Get There From Here.

Sometimes the devastating hangover or the blackout brown liquor drunk can take a form akin to the famous "Jordan Flu." The idea that when your body is weakest, you turn over control to the more primal instincts and perform in a purely efficient way, elevated to a different level. When things go wrong in the boiler room, your internal Captain Sully Sullenberger has let go of the wheel to go down below and help Mr. Scott put things back together. That's when Captain Busey takes the helm, throws some Marshall Tucker Band in the cassette deck and tries to drive with his teeth.

So it was that I, filled with daquiri, nerves and a few struggling delusions of preseason hype before last year's Alabama game, sat watching Nebraska and made the comment, "We need us some Samoans." Actually, I believe my initial dispatch to Basil while watching Ndamakong Suh was "Mr. President, we have to give bears the right to vote... or bears will rise up and then BEARS will be in Congress and we will be the ones performing in the circus, wearing little hats. " He then translated it into a more understandable form.

Outside of personal prophecetical fulfillment, I'm still not sure what this Masoli signing actually means for Ole Miss. Our last highly-touted transfer QB, another reclamation project with a ganja-tarnished image trying to make good, will be best remembered as part of the chorus to the Coach O song and for the rumored shanking of a teammate. While it's not a perfect comparison, one question remains valid-- can a quarterback walk in cold to August camp and successfully make a positive impact in an SEC offense?

One thing is for sure, the vision of Masoli's skill set and physical make-up is the stuff little Houston Nutt used to doodle on his junior high wide-rule notebooks during home room. Basically a rather large badger with opposable thumbs who is low enough to the ground to hide behind the line, run with power, take the hit after flipping the lateral and smell of freshly juiced pineapples. If he can get his head straight, he can run this scheme and provide the Rebels with at least the minimal amount of offensive competency that's going to be needed for us to win a good chunk of our games this year.

I never embraced the idea of the Masoli transfer. It seemed forced. I couldn't make a connection. Even if Masoli came in and lit the world on fire, what connection can he really have to Ole Miss. At his best, he's a damaged mercenary. Like Rooster Cogburn or Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner. Why do I care? I couldn't make the connection until I read Steve Duin's excellent column. Now it works. If anybody understands being a victim of space and time and carrying the stain of those you once associated with, it's Ole Miss. Now lay back into the Right Reverend's river here, Jeremiah, let's see if we can't both wash some of this dirt off.