They're never, ever going to fire Les Miles at LSU. He might depart the swamp king's throne at LSU against his will, sure, but firing is too ugly for a coach who so clearly matches the charismatic chaos of Louisiana. One day he'll just go to lunch and never come back, and years later LSU fans will say "He had to go, but we didn't have the heart to fire him. I'm not saying we put him in a stew and ate him, but...if we did? He would make the most delicious and unpredictable jambalaya we've made since we may or may not have eaten Gerry DiNardo in 1999."
Laugh, but a football coach who gets his own Mardi Gras float has already been paid the second best compliment Louisiana can pay someone. (There's a picture after the jump. You really should see it.)
To summarize: Les Miles will be the coach of LSU forever and ever and ever, or at least until he is eaten in a celebratory feast in the first-biggest compliment LSU fans can pay you. Knowing Miles and clock management, the cookbook will say he will be done in an hour and a half of cooking, but actually be done sometime a few seconds before or after that mark.
(HT: Cajun Boy.)