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Me Like Shiny Pretty Lombardi Trophy

2004-02-05 - 9:38 p.m.

Secret Word: Comic Books

Listening To: Phish, Magnetic Fields, Propellerheads

Quote: "Pickle Dildo Harbingers!" - Jimbo

Hey. Hey you. Yeah, you. Did you hear about the Super Bowl? Yeah, the Patriots WON. Remember that part? The part when the Pats won? Yeah . . . that whole “winning the Super Bowl” part kinda got lost in the shuffle of Janet “Penny’s all growed up” Jackson and the Nipple Seen/Not Seen Around The World. And don’t even get me started on Janet “Everything’s Been Downhill Since That RollingStone Cover What With My Secret Marriage And My Freakazoid Brother, No Not That One, The Other One, No Not That One, The OTHER One!” Jackson. What’s that? I already did get started on her? Oh well. Now I’ll end it.

Also, it should be mentioned that the Patriots won the Super Bowl. Even without the aid of Johnny Damon. People, he can’t do everything. God bless him though, he tries. So yeah, watched the Super Bowl at Kyle's house. Kyle of "Brooke & Kyle" (although the Watchdog Groups have yet to inform me if I'm allowed at this juncture to put quotation marks around their names. You know what I say? I say screw the Watchdog Groups. Ever since that fireman guy who was friends with Captain America joined that Watchdog Group and then helped slander Cap's name . . . man, they just make. me. sick.) Anyway, Ben and I went over to Kyle's and watched the game, as well as played us some Laconia Rules Beirut (is there any other kind? Yes. Yes there is. It's called Canton Rules Beirut and it rapes orphans and burns nuns alive. Nasty stuff that Canton Rules Beirut.) Brooke was obviously there, as was Kyle's roommate Tim and his girlfriend Megan. You might remember Tim from back in December when he was showing Laconia kids how one really drinks 2 rum and cokes. Anywho, we watched the game, ate tons of food, drank too much for a Sunday, gaped where we were supposed to (J. Jackson's aforementioned teat - that's Janet, not Jermaine), guffawed where we were supposed to (very few ads) and prayed where we were supposed to (the Pats trailing for the first time since about 1971). And well . . . it all worked out just fine. We won. As a region, New England smiled. And the world smiled back at us. Except for New York. New York shot a spitball at us while the teacher had her back turned. But that's ok New York. We'll take it in stride. Because we happen to know that California, Minnesota, and West Virgina are gonna fuckin' kick your ass on Dewey Street after school. Oh . . . and Connecticut? Sit you ass down, we know you ain't loyal and that you've been hooking up with New York "accidentally" after parties because "you drank more than you thought" and you didn't know those "Zima's went down so easy" and you thought New York "really understood you", unlike those "bitch friends" of yours and those "stupid teachers and clueless parents." Yeah. So sit your ass down Connecticut. The Patriots just won the Super Bowl. Again. It it was pretty fuckin', as they say in the "biz", NICE!

Teddy Bruschi answers the following series of questions, "How many Super Bowl rings do you have now?", "What's your favorite letter?", "War or Peace?", and "Can you do your impression of Paris Hilton's legs?" all with one bold statement. {But seriously, people? You all think Johnny Damon looks like Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer? Um . . . no. Feast your eyes upon our Neolithic friend Teddy first before you throw Pterodactyl Eggs at Glass Houses.}

Look everyone! It's our old friends Mike "I'm not Jeff Space" Vrabel, Christian "I'm not from Easter Island" Fauria, Willie "Don't even think about callin' me Manny you crazy Cracker" McGinest, and Teddy "Fire Bad" Bruschi! See, New York may give their players ticker tape parades and free after-hours access to the city's orphanages, but Boston? Boston pulls out all the stops and gives its champs a RAILING TO LEAN ON! Boo-yeah!"

Now see. This is crazy shit. That's a lot of fucking people that turned out at City Hall on Tuesday to greet the Pats. How many people were there? Estimates clocked in around 2.3 Zillion. Also, notice how small Fenway Park looks on the lower right. Yeah.

And finally, if nothing else convinces you to root for the Pats, it's that Coach Belichick is a Dave man, not a Jay man. God bless you Bill. God bless you.

I know there's no pictures of Brady, but for god sakes, we all know what he looks like, and to be honest, I was finally over him dating a STD-factory like Tara Reid a few years back, but then he had to go and grow a Favre beard. Oh Brady. You came and you gave me a brownie. Wait . . . that's not what I meant to say.

I have more to talk about but it will have to wait. I will update again soon. Lots to talk about. Lots. Big Lots. Ok, ok . . . medium sized lots at best.

And yes you jackals, there'll be a new poll when I update too. God almighty . . . lay off! I'm starving! Wait . . . that's not what I meant to say.

It's been real,


ps - Did I just say "Boo-yeah!"?

pps - Did I make a Captain America reference so incredibly obscure that I barely even understand it?

ppps - Yes.

pppps - Yes I did.

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