February 4, 2011
dear clusterflock
Super Bowl plans.
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comments:
- Joel Bernstein: I know right?
- Rick Neece: Being nice is a dainty way to put it.
- Rick Neece: Hey Cristopher? Who cried “uncle” first, at the end of your ten-year stand-off? To quote my...
- Michael Smith: Ours is the kitchen.
- Amy Mabli: That’s what happens when you give the dogs the bed.
- Deron Bauman: Sweet Jesus.
- Michael Smith: Don’t we all.
- Pam: I have a story coming out soon in a ‘little mag’, Chicago Quarterly Review. An old friend recently...
- Pam: And I thought, somedays, that my work was meaningless…
- Pam: I remember Eggleston at the Art Institute in Chicago a couple years ago. He was elegantly dressed in a dark suit...
- Christopher Walken: Hey Clusterflockers, Realize y’all are hurting. I’ve been a really close friend of my...
- Marco: This works pretty well in mobile, more so in iOS
- Michael Smith: It was not the intent of management to imply all sissies are “namby pamby”. Management was...
- Rick Neece: I take umbrage with the term “namby pamby.” Some sissies are fierce.
- Carole Corlew: Shelia. Happy no big deal day. I would start your very own post but this phone is in semi rebellion.
Making sure to avoid the lunacy it provokes in my very own house.
So, drinking, then.
I plan to hear who won on Monday’s CNN American Morning. Sunday afternoon/evening, we’ll have snacks, dinner and movies.
Oh, yeah, and drinks.
Drinking. Mexican food. Drinking.
Fleeing the premises.
I’m going to watch the game with Michael Smith.
Dogsitting for Bull Terriers (not of the american pit or staffordshire varieties, unfortunately) but they have a bigger TV and satellite, so I’m ok.
Is it this weekend? Who’s up for the cup, there is a cup, right? All football finals have a cup!
I thought the Superbowl took place in January? Or it always seemed to in the 80s. Is Joe Montana in it?
The 6 nations start here tonight – I’m not watching, just sayin’!
Sunday!
Cool, they show it live here!
Performing my own halftime show. My notorious “wild and savage dance.”
Also, not watching commercials. One of the few benefits of self-employment, in my view, is freedom from the burden of watching Super Bowl commercials in anticipation of the obligatory workplace conversations on Monday.
Deron, is Michael coming out for a visit?
My friends Courtnee and Ashley are getting married on a farm in Texas this summer so this Sunday afternoon there’s plans to craft decorations and soak in girlishness with their many ladyfriends. It will probably devolve into drinking though.
Oh, that was me pulling Michael’s leg on account of his love of football.
Michael’s leg will be glued to a big old TV screen all day Sunday.
I’m on my way Deron! Don’t let the game start without me.
I did just find out today the Packers are playing. Those cheese hats are…mmm, cheese.
Usually I make chili and avoid the game. This year I’m just ignoring the game.
A friend’s relative is James Harrison’s baby mama. He likes to eat Fruit Loops and watch cartoons in his off time. “I would too if I was James Harrison,” said Mr. Boudreaux, the high school newspaper sports editor.
This has been a micro-sidebar in coverage of the big game.
Seriously, I think there are plans to watch Stroszek tomorrow. And eat Fruit Loops.
This was the 500th dear clusterflock.
Michael, I hope you’re here soon. The pre-game is about to start.
trying to watch the game (the Packers are my favourite American team) while the one woman and two girls in my life conspire to distract me.
Oh, and ribs. Lots and lots of ribs.
Oh no. Mr. Boudreaux is ditching to watch with his buddies. Iowan is forlorn. He’s gonna try to make me watch with him despite the odds of that happening.
They grow up so fast.
Tell the Iowan, if he hurries, he can come over and watch with Michael and me.
If you commence a batch of frogmore stew at just the right time, you might be able to plead kitchen duty.
Better yet, a series of slightly fussy little things served in sequence, so you have to keep dashing back to the kitchen.
This worked pretty well for me one year.
I’m thinking now that maybe I’ll watch that goat. Still a-goin’.
And I’m still searching for Topo Gigio. I did see Popeye in Italian (Braccio di Ferro) if that counts for anything.
I like it that Popeye is Braccio di Ferro.
I meant odds against, of course. Yes, Deron, Mr. B. dumped us a couple of years ago, but the Iowan still hopes, says “ask your friends over here!” The man is very naive. Michael must be on the way to Dallas because I’m not seeing any evidence of him readying to watch the big game.
Shelia, the bowl will be a good time for me to catch a nap. Say “I’m just resting my eyes” now and then. He’s actually taking me to dinner thinking that will bolster his case. Ha ha.
Wait a minute. If the game starts at 6:30 p.m. that means the TVs will be on in the bar. That Iowan. He’s a tricky one.
The Iowan is lukewarm about Frogmore stew. Everybody else loves it. There might be too many things mixed together for him. I had to nearly starve Mr. Boudreaux to make him eat casseroles.
The guile of a midwesterner is a subtle thing.
Ah, so they do not like for things to swap juices. A place for everything, and everything in its place.
The Iowan thought I wouldn’t know the time of the game. I guess I’ll need to bring a novel, which is how I make it through sports events. And Shelia, it’s strange, they’ll eat soups. But something about other combos offends them. Not Mr. B., now, I captured him for the pro-casserole side.
The Puppy Bowl is just now starting on Animal Planet, I think. You could flip it on and get all engrossed and freak out the Iowan so badly that he might just back out the door and go watch the real game at the restaurant or bar.
On the other hand, if he’s taking you out, go for it. And bring a book. Or draw caricatures of people, which is something I have done in sports bars. Not that I think the Iowan is taking you out to a sports bar.