What Can I Say? Boobs And Football. That's Where It's At.

First off, I humbly offer the picture above (Sorry, it looks dirtier than it is.) as an apology to those of you who stopped by yesterday to sample some random musings regarding the glorious Charger victory this Sunday past. Well, I don’t know about you, but when my team wins its first regular season game against an opponent with a winning record, my friends and I, naturally, head straight to the nearest Hustler strip club to celebrate in style. If that is not the case with you, you might want to consider packing up your bagina and heading off to the convent because you are a sexless woman and you carry a little dog around in you purse. Also, you have no business attempting to entertain yourself with football when you could easily be huffing paint or thumbing through pop-up books for entertainment. So, we drank all the booze. All of it. And at that point, I’ve been pretty much worthless for about thirty-six hours as far as coherent thought goes.

Sunday was truly a sweet day in Charger land. Not only did The Best Ever have the kind of signature day that makes everyone in the sporting world say, “Seriously, I was totally kidding about the Michael Turner thing,” but me and mine were treated to the sight of the ever growing pandemic of Bronco fans crying in their ridiculous Miller High Life-in-a-pitcher contraptions as their team choked away victory to “He of a woman’s name” Manning. Typically, I would never root for Peyton Place, but he is like the Riddler to my Batman, and the Broncos and their fans are definitely the Joker these days.

Truthfully, I don’t really recall watching a great deal of this game. We missed the first six minutes or so, because back-up bartender was not so on the ball. Score’s already 7-0 Bolts by the time we know what’s going on. Then regular bartender calls the bar and sends us shots from the other side of the country and we’re off to the races. TBE stiff arms helmets off on the way to the end zone and by this point things seem to be in hand and the attention starts to shift to the aforementioned horse fight on the next screen over. Don’t get me wrong, I saw TBE’s next TD on a sweet pass by Young Man Rivers. I saw Merriman secure his four game suspension by plowing through the Rams O-line in a very enhanced type manner. Just kidding, buddy, you’re well on your way to getting that nickname back, but you’re still going to have to put up with some shit for a while.

Then it was off to the strip club where the stories become much less clear. The things that all who were there can agree upon is that a good time was had, the Chargers are great and those cabbies out there must be rich now, cause nobody was fit to decipher the intricacies of currency by the end of the night. Go Bolts!!!