News and Notes from the weekend:
Blah Super Bowl for the second straight year. Started out exciting, obviously, but wow was Rex terrible. I feel bad for the rest of the team. If you put ANY other quarterback in the league on the Bears, they are Super Bowl champs. I kinda just threw that comment out there, but now I'm thinking about it....thinking....thinking....yes. Any other QB in the league. Well, maybe not Aaron Brooks. In our SB tradition of "Stupid random dollar bets that keep us entertained throughout the game," I finished down two bucks, only because I took a pretty big hit when everyone in the room unexpectedly called my Dominic Rhodes as MVP bet. Some other highlights from the betting: Me winning a bet vs. everyone in the room when I said Rex wouldn't complete a pass to a wide receiver for the rest of the 1st half; Jake yelling out "this drive ends in a turnover!" as Rex goes back to pass, everyone calling him, Rex throwing up one of his patented floaters, everyone but Jake screaming "NO!!!" and Jake subsequently collecting from everyone; me winning the "who has next commercial, CSI or Bud Light" bet with Ike; Jake betting Paul the 2-minute warning would come at 1:58 (resourceful); and Jon-Jon betting Bergman that a plane would crash into the stadium.
I don't even know what to take from the KU/A&M game on Saturday. KU was up 8 and preparing to blow it open when the fucking power went out at Culligan Manor. As soon as it goes out, A&M goes on a 17-4 run to end the game. I can't even be that pissed because from what I watched, they played solid. Just a worst-case scenario. Worse still when you find out the outcome of the game from a textie from Dunph. By the way, Dunph, your mom was in Perkins the next day and asked me if I had talked to you lately, and I allllmost said "Yeah, actually, last night he told me to get bent and called me a cockbag after Kansas lost. He seems to be doing well." I didn't, though. Then the Basketball Gods rewarded me by letting FSU beat Duke.
I have a running joke going that whenever any girl asks me how things are going with The Woman, I solemnly tell them that we're on the rocks. Results in no real repurcussions for me, but a lot of headaches for her, as invariably the girl who asked will scurry off to hit her with a barrage of questions, when the whole thing isn't true anyway. Needless to say, she is not impressed with the whole game. So I tell her that I will stop if she lets Bergman put her in the torture rack, made famous by the one and only Lex Luger. Without a single question as to what it is, she accepts, and the resulting cell phone pictures are more than worth it. We may have a keeper on our hands.
Enjoy the trophy, Peyton. Dork.
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