For those of you who do not understand the ancient ritual of American football, I am here to explain. I come from a background of absolutely ZERO footballing… although back in 530-pounder days, I would have made a dagnabbed awesome defensive block. Put me in coach! As long as I don’t have to run or exert and can just stand around impeding other players’ ability to get to the quarterback, I’d say that’s an easy mill a year. Plus, and here would be the best part… everyday would be like eating at an all-you-can-shove-in-your-purse buffet. Got to keep the roundish figure for the team, folks!
Because of my non-extensive footballing background, I am highly qualified to give y’all a rundown of how the game is played. You have these dudes wearing pants that are wayyyyyy too dagnabbed tight… it’s like skinny jeans, except more shiny like. I like to liken them to panty hose for women, except we all know the truth… panty hose are the spawn of the devil and the only purpose they serve is to get runs in them 10 seconds after having spent 10 minutes getting those suckers on. So, in all truthfullness… football pants are nothing like panty hose!
Back to the rundown… these dudes wearing skinny jeans all line up in the middle of a big ole astroturfed field with only one little ball for like 20-some-odd people to play with. COME ON… bring out some more balls! Someone yells hike and they all start moving around, checking their text messages, talking to the dudes in the line on the other side, and hugging each other like they dagnabbed just got back from a 2-year sabbatical to Mars. Then, some other skinny jeans dudes start running down the field… I’m pretty sure it’s because he is late for a Zumba class and when he finally gets all the way down to the end of the field some other dude gets pissed off and shoves him onto the ground and then sits on top of him.
That’s basically the gist of it. As you can see it sounds like a bunch of grown men having hormonal outbursts… and we here in America… LOVE IT!!!!! We love it so much we hold an annual SUPERBOWL… which to me sounds like something one would order at the Taco Bell. I’ll take a Super Bowl with extra Super and a side of guacamole.
We held our annual SuperBowl par-tay at the house tonight. Cuzzin Angie, Ryan, Kayla, and Corbin were our guests, along with a huge-mongousfull table of gastrointestinal tract infection… erm… I mean food. I, of course, did not plan a bit when it came to my eating during Skinny Jeans Bowl… I just ate and then sat around and somehow missed every single touchdown that was made… how does that happen? I was sitting in front of the TV the whole time!
Forget Madonna and her halftime show… we gots us a hula hooping and dancing act going down. Video proof… Of course, the whole time we were watching the halftime show with Madonna… we kept saying things like, Ain’t no way she’s not going to be nekked by the time this show is over… she won’t be wearing that for long… what is she an ESKIMO!?!?!? To my surprise, she did not do the strip down thing… instead adding another layer of clothes part way through. Good on you, Mo mo (that’s what we closest to her call her… and by closest to her I really mean closest to her on the TV). I think the team wearing white skinny jeans won the game. I think. Eh… it doesn’t really matter… all that matters is that thanks to me, y’all are versed on an American ritual… Combative Hormonal Ball!!
Question of the Day: Are you a football fan? Did you have a SuperBowl par-tay?
I have been sickened all afternoon by another turn of events that went down today… pure evil does exist. Thoughts and prayers are being sent to the Cox and Powell families. If you aren’t familiar with what I’m referring to… check out this link.