Is there some sort of bizarre hazing ritual going on amongst the Texans' offensive linemen? Sort of like a panty raid or the infamous soggy biscuit of lore, except that initiation into the Houston offensive line clan demands running afoul of the Houston Police Department? Because that's really the only thing I can figure to explain Chester Pitts' behavior today at happy hour. I mean, first Fred Weary, and now this.
Swear to God...I better not see Eric Winston streaking across the Vanderbilt quad on Saturday night.
Update [2007-12-1 12:32:9 by Tim]:: Chester says it was all a big misunderstanding. Well played...everyone knows that you never squeal on the actives.