Humor · sports

Confessions of a Female Football Fanatic

Last Sunday, I broke the sound barrier in my living room.

Have you ever heard a high-pitched screech that was so annoying and loud you wanted to scrape your own ears out with a fork?

That was me during the commercials.

I hate Taco Bell.

Okay, so I guess I get a little excited watching the game. I suppose I was a wee bit too intense. And sure, at one point during the fourth quarter, my head spun around and flames shot out my ass. But it’s football, baby!

I have been a ginormous football fan since Doug Flutie snarfed down cornflakes. And before you all turn on me and start whining “But the Patriots are cheaters! They deflated balls! I think,,,! …maybe…?! Well if they didn’t deflate balls they did SOMETHING BAD because NO TEAM CAN BE THAT GOOD!”

Image result for kid project brady is cheater
Science project sponsored by the Indianapolis Colts. 

Firstly: I have to love the New England Patriots. It’s a rule here. If I don’t, Marky Marktastic Mark Wahlberg gets all up in my grill.

Image result for mark wahlberg
I swear to God I will punch you in the throat.

Secondly, na-na-na-na, neer-neer!

I get it — you are all sick to death of the Pats winning and being all amazing and stuff. I used to feel the same about the Cowboys. But do you all realize how long I’ve suffered? I lived through Tony Eason! And Drew Bledsoe! And the Refrigerator Perry! Don’t you think all this winning is deserved? And don’t you agree that I had something to do with it?

They only win when I drink gin from this mug.

It’s a hard lonely life loving Tom Brady. Giselle, you know what I’m talking about. I won’t even go into how much my own husband loathes Brady. He’s got oodles of money. Buttloads of talent. Dimples. (Probably on his butt too, but hey, I don’t give a shit.)

So this Super Bowl Sunday, think of me screaming into an empty living room, while my man Brady slides that sixth ring onto his finger.  Or screaming because they lost and Brady is in a fetal position on the 20 yard line. You’d all love that, wouldn’t you?

Whatever happens, please dear god, no more puppy-monkey-baby commercials.


The New Adventures of Old Darla

Going back to college at my (ahem) advanced age has been quite the eye-opening experience.

I’ve learned many valuable things, like the medical term bradycardia actually does not mean when one’s heart rate goes up upon seeing Tom Brady’s tight end.


Also, never open your eyes during ‘eye irrigation’ practice when your smirking lab partner comes at you wielding a eyedropper full of questionable fluid.

And — I suppose it should go without saying — never get caught in the bathroom stall etching a crude image of your lab partner with a giant arrow over their grotesquely inflated head and the words: Suck It, You Brown-Noser Poopy Head!!!

Oh, and never argue with your professor when he deducts three points off your pharmacology paper because you think whopping cough is a real ailment that strikes people who have inhaled too many Burger King Whoppers. (Damned spell check never works.)

But aside from the above lessons, the biggest thing I’ve learned this time around?

I’ve changed. Yeah, turns out I’m not the same wild-n-crazy chick I used to be in my days of misspent youth.

  • After listening to a few young classmates whine on and on about how they can’t find time to study for the big exam:
    Old Me: Day-um! I know, right? School’s a bitch! High-five!
    New Me: Are you serious? What, you can’t find time because you’re too busy uploading stupid youtube videos while your mom does your laundry and serves you Yoo-Hoo with bendy straws and triangle-shaped bologna sandwiches with the crust cut off? Try studying while taking care of an entire household, two hyper little kids, an elderly mother who thinks Dr. Oz is speaking to her through her smoke alarm, AND a husband that sits around and watches reruns of Married With Children while falling asleep with his hand in his pants. Yeah! Then we’ll see how much time you have to study, bucko! That’s right, I said bucko, bucko! Now just run along and go tweet yourself to death, kids. Oh, and in case you’re not pickin’ up what I be layin’ down:
    #boohoo #growthehellup #beingoldblows #IHeartRichieCunningham
  • While walking by the group of ‘cool’ kids huddled together outside the school taking a smoke break:
    Old Me: Yo, whassup? Need a light? Man, school’s a huge suck-fest, amirite?
    New Me: [scowling] For shame! [knocking cigarettes out of their hands] You guys realize that cancer stick’s gonna kill you, right? But it won’t be quick. Oh hell no. It’ll be a slow, agonizing death where first your lungs will turn to cottage cheese, then you’ll start coughing up blood until finally you’ll end up gasping for every breath for the rest of your days. But by all means, keep on tokin’ it up, morons! See if I care!
    #blacklungdisease #COPD #YouSmellLikeAnAshtray
  • After someone asks me if I want a hit off a bong at an off-campus party:
    Old Me: Hell yeah, duuude!
    New Me: Hell yeah, duuuude!
    (What? It’s for medicinal purposes.)
    Besides, I gotta fit in with my peers somehow.
    #hash #didnotinhale #DoritoLocosTacoFoodBaby

Why can’t I get struck by lightning, just once?

Perhaps you’ve heard about today’s Powerball jackpot, the largest in the history of wasting your hard-earned money for something that will never happen. I am writing this post to let you all know a few facts: it is over 500 million and I am going to win it.

Oh, yes, I am. I bought my ticket this morning, so don’t even bother wasting your two dollars.

But I promise, when I win, I will remember all you little people while I’m sipping gold-flecked champagne out of a solid gold glass and sunning on my solid gold yacht floating somewhere in the Riviera while George Clooney massages my back with diamond-encrusted sunscreen.

Still as much as I know these dreams of mine will come true soon enough, I get a little peeved when I switch on the radio or watch the news and they all start babbling on and on about the astronomical odds of winning. Then to really twist the knife in my heart, they mention all the other things more likely to happen to you in your life. So I’ve devised my own list of odds.


winning the Powerball                                                                                                                  175 million to 1
getting struck by lightning                                                                                                          10,000 to 1
getting struck by lightning while watching Honey Boo Boo                                          20 to 1
finding out Honey Boo Boo is in rehab at the age of 18                                                   5 to 1
hitting a hole in one on three consecutive par-3 holes                                                  156 million to 1
hitting  a triple bogey because I suck at golf                                                                        2 to 1
being attacked by a shark                                                                                                           11.5 million to 1
being attacked by a shark while watching Honey Boo Boo                                           25 to 1
being attacked by Honey Boo Boo                                                                                          10 to 1
giving birth to identical triplets                                                                                               6889 to 1
my husband having a vasectomy again because I gave birth to triplets                2 to 1
hitting a deer while driving                                                                                                        10,000 to 1
hitting a moose while driving                                                                                                    1 to 1(already can lay claim to that fame)
dying from a bee sting                                                                                                                   6.1 million to 1
dying from having tantric sex with Sting                                                                              2 to 1
watching the New England Patriots win the Super bowl                                                20 to 1
thinking Tom Brady is too damn gorgeous for his own good                                      1.6 billion to 1
dying from being poisoned                                                                                                        30,000 to 1
dying from being poisoned by my local Taco Bell                                                            3 to 1
dying from suffocation in bed                                                                                                   2 million to 1
dying from suffocation in bed due to my husband’s flatulence                                  50 to 1

So there you have it.

I have better chance of dying from my husband’s farts than winning 500 million dollars.

Wish me luck.