Friday, January 23, 2015

It's my belief that my big balls

The power went out last night. I had to wait until 0942 to start brewing my coffee. That is unacceptable, Universe!

You both know I love football. That Seattle/Green Bay game was the most anxiety/fun I'd had watching football since my Chargers came back from down 21 against the Niners earlier in the season. Then the Pats played the Colts and I fell asleep. The next morning I awoke to a world gone mad about balls!

Cup, don't squeeze.
I get that people want to whine about the nefarious cheating ways of the Patriots. But seriously, an ounce or two of air is making some dipshits all panty bunched insisting that Hoodie be tossed out of the league. Fans who consider football their religion are more butthurt about ballghazi/deflategate than they have ever been about a commish who is shitting all over the league, about players beating/raping women senseless, steroids, tampering, or even rule changes that have turned the game into glorified flag football.

I find myself wanting the Patriots to win just to give some of my dipshit friends the middle finger.

But I love little Russell Wilson. So I'm torn.

One thing that is true: we have the makings for one of the best, most interesting Super Bowls in history and all anyone wants to talk about is Tom Brady's balls.

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