Monday, February 8, 2010

Super Bowl

Partying makes it hard to write, it’s the key to busting up a creative groove. My social habits make it difficult to form a complete sentence, let alone write something worth reading. So what does any self respecting 24 year old do in a time of serious damaged-ness? I have no idea what self respecting people do, but I choose to party more.

Last night I went to a super bowl party; because my damaged mind said “I know what my body needs; 3000 calories of chips, dips, chili, dumplings, bread and booze!” I have never been to a Super bowl party, as I know nothing about football except those pants are tight and the majority of the men are tall drinks of smooth chocolate milk; but I now know that super bowl stands for super (huge) bowls of food.

I would definitely say that this would be considered a “starter” super bowl party; there were 2 men and 7 women, so there was lots of chick talk until something exciting happened; and lots of questions to the tune of “4 downs? Why four and not five?” and “so this is Eli Manning?" "No Bianca! This is PEYTON” (I heard that about 4 times). And lots of hair talk, 1 of the men and 6 of the women are hair stylists. In hindsight I wish there had been more cock at this party, I would have been little more demure with my food consumption. From the moment I stepped through the door I ate, and I did not stop; I couldn’t stop, I have a problem stopping when there is food in front me, no matter how full and distended my stomach happens to be. Not to mention that I was extremely hung-over and so long as something was going in, I could avoid anything coming out; teenagers puke, adults gorge to avoid the embarrassment, and I am a big girl now.

About the game, the saints won! Going into the game, I had no preference as to who I wanted to win. But as the game turned around after halftime and the Saints started to pull away; I instantly became the biggest Saints fan, I make no apologize for my fair weather fandom. Initially, I was disappointed as half time began, because I thought that Rihanna and Jay-Z were performing the half time show, turns out that they performed the pre game show, which I missed peeling my ass off the couch and getting my act together. The Who took the stage and to my surprise they were really really good; it was like one long CSI intro, I was waiting for Horatio Kane to jump out and say something obvious yet debonair ; he could say “I’m a less than handsome ginger” and make it look cool wearing those fucking glasses. I digress, the Who are old men, but those songs are legend; I found myself mouthing teenage wasteland wanting to reach for me lighter. I will most likely buy a greatest hit compilation in the near future.

4 hours later the game was over and I was too full to form complete sentences (the theme of the weekend) ;and, although my attention span is normally that of a 5 year old, I think I managed to stay relatively focused, thank god for food and hair talk.

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