For as long as I can remember, I never have understood this whole “football” thing. It’s one of the few things that are traditional “American” that I feel on the outside of (Another is Country music for those taking notes; I don’t get that either). And every year around the Super Bowl I have to pretend.
- Did I watch it? Yes, of course. (No, I probably didn’t.)
- Did you see that play? Oh, it was amazing (I don’t even know what teams were playing typically.)
- And how about that touchdown? I jumped out of my seat when it happened (I can’t remember the last time I have jumped out of my seat. Maybe when I saw Paranormal Activity for the first time? I’m sorry, that got me; there was a demon in the house!).
Whatever the case, it is series of shams and lies I am guilty of; and given the chance I would rather watch an hour of the Puppy Bowl (More than an hour would be too much for anyone’s sanity). Continue reading