I hate the Saints…and can more than appreciate the symbolism in that statement.  I had some money involved in a Superbowl pool and came so insanely close to getting 400 bucks out of it, only to be snatch away by an interception and a forth quarter upset.  I went to a Superbowl party in Williamsburg.  Almost everybody was buzzed when I got there. A couple games of pong and stop pre-gammed the big game. I shook off my temporary sense of responsible drinking from the prior night, and dove into PBR and Keystone. The fanciest we got was Coors. That was saved for half-time.

Speaking of half time there was  choice between a honey auburn and a golden blonde. As I mentioned there was no dark beer, but I went for the lager of a woman.  Most everybody was doing there own thing and I had this one served up on a silver nacho platter. We went outside and everything was still, grey, and quiet. I pulled out a smoke, held it to my lips for a moment, I decided against lighting it.  I offered it off to the brunette in question, and lit it for her. She inhaled and gave it back to me, I just waved it off. I then said I would be right back. This is when I decided to wander around for the next ten minutes before going back in for the game.