Enjoy it this weekend, kids. Some see it as one last gasp. Others see it as one last torment. One final meaningless football game before the NFL comes to a close. And you thought you'd finally be free of the sporting events your spouse inflicts upon you. Bwahahaha. It never ends. That's right, you're going to be stuck watching basketball from here on out.This weekend, it's the Pro Bowl. Arguably the most worthless of all of the celebratory sporting events.
And even thought it's worthless, you can still bet on it. That's right, you can take that bad advice you got last week to bet on the Steelers and turn your season around.
You really should be going to yet another football watching party. If you don't, the terrorists win.
Enjoy watching the millionaires going through the motions while you sit in an ice storm. Really, a power outage may be a blessing.
Top 10 Signs You're at a Lame Pro Bowl Party
10) Pre-game show consists of Matt Millen saying "Here ya go, ya humps."
9) The veggie dip is last week's dip that's turned
8) Squares in the pool only cost a nickel
7) Halftime show is a Dusty Springfield impersonator
6) Pretzel rods already have salt sucked off them
5) Non-alcoholic beer
4) Someone keeps asking what inning it is
3) Host serves sandwiches by hiking them between his legs
2) You spin a bottle and have to make out with John Madden
1) Overtime
Maybe if you're lucky, you'll get your own two minute drill at halftime, kids. Enjoy the game.
4 comments:
The worst time of year for me is when CFL, MLB and NHL all collide. It's about a month of sheer torture for me! I guess it keeps him out of the whorehouses though...LOL!
Brett isn't playing - I'm not watching. 'Nuff said.
Dusty Springfield at your halftime show (though she's no longer with us) - cool. Impersonator? Not so much, as you point out.
And if I were you and Matt Millen showed up at my party, I'd shoot him. But then again, I'm a Packer fan so I have to thank him.
Number 4 SOOOOO better not be aimed at me. Serial.
If football is the only glue keeping this country together, I'm inclined to let the terrorists win.
I guess I spoke too soon when I said I was happy that football was over with the Stupor Bowel. I can't help my bitterness. I look at the field and the millions of dollars that go into each and every game, and it fills me with rage. We'll gladly spend money on tickets, beer, t-shirts, the same sneakers our favorite players wear, and even giant foam fingers, but God forbid we pay our teachers anything or have healthcare. It sickens me. Sorry.
I wouldn't mind a sandwiched hiked to me.
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