Super Bowl Sunday sucks. And not just because my husband beats me, either.
I'm sorry, but I hate football. And, truthfully? I really hate Super Bowl anything: To me it all seems so macho, wasteful and embarrassing.
Unfortunately, (for me) my husband has to write a story for the newspaper about the commercials every year, which is kind of like paying a guy to be served. If you get my drift.
Here's link to his story and his blog. (He has a "real" blog, not this remedial made-with-duct-tape thing you're reading right now.)
http://pedrowatcher.freedomblogging.com/
And so, every year without fail, I hear him say something ridiculous about "having to watch" the game "for work" as if he never would, anyway.
Anyhow, I'm hiding in my office and uploading great 80's music into my iTunes and playing it very loudly and generally working hard to tune out the depressing drone of "The Game," however...the one and only time I did stick my head in to ask him something; I looked up at the TV screen to see some baby spew puke everywhere. Charming. That was selling, what?
See? I rest my case. Seriously.
~ Louise
Unfortunately, (for me) my husband has to write a story for the newspaper about the commercials every year, which is kind of like paying a guy to be served. If you get my drift.
Here's link to his story and his blog. (He has a "real" blog, not this remedial made-with-duct-tape thing you're reading right now.)
http://pedrowatcher.freedomblogging.com/
And so, every year without fail, I hear him say something ridiculous about "having to watch" the game "for work" as if he never would, anyway.
Anyhow, I'm hiding in my office and uploading great 80's music into my iTunes and playing it very loudly and generally working hard to tune out the depressing drone of "The Game," however...the one and only time I did stick my head in to ask him something; I looked up at the TV screen to see some baby spew puke everywhere. Charming. That was selling, what?
See? I rest my case. Seriously.
~ Louise
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