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.

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