I'm Fairly Certain I Know What I Did This Weekend, Take 3

The third installation in which i tell you what i did this weekend while typing everything that pops into my head along the way...

We made our way toward the stadium about an hour before kick-off. It was pretty much uphill the whole way, and there were lots of people selling tickets. As we got nearer to the stadium, we stopped so a few people in our group could use the bathroom.

While i waited, i had to overhear this drunk guy talking to another guy and his kids.

Here's the cliff's notes version of what information was exchanged between the two:
Guy and kids like LSU. Kids also like the Cincinnatti Bengals because of the uniforms.
Drunk guy likes Ohio State and the Cincinnatti Bengals.

Here is the actual transcript of the final 20 minutes of the 21 minute conversation.

Drunk Guy: "alright*! Cincinnati Bengals...Chad Johnson...Carson Palmer....Who Dey...Ohio State... alright*! Cincinnati Bengals...Chad Johnson...Carson Palmer....Who Dey...Ohio State...alright*! Cincinnati Bengals...Chad Johnson...Carson Palmer....Who Dey...Ohio State... alright*! Cincinnati Bengals...Chad Johnson...Carson Palmer....Who Dey...Ohio State..."

Needless to say I hated the guy. It was like the world's worst "Mr. Short-term Memory" SNL sketch. In fact, the guy should "be execute" for making me even remotely connect him to a great Tom Hanks sketch.

*The correct AP style is "all right" and i have steadfastly used it as such, but i've given up. Nobody else cares that alright isn't a word. or at least it wasn't last time i looked.

After a wait and a bit more walking we finally got into the stadium, which is the biggest f'ing bullshit joke of a stadium i'm ever been in. the concourses fit about two people at a time (three if there's no wait for the ladies' room). the seats are about 2/3 as wide as normal stadium seating and the rows offer about 1/3 the leg room. If you want to get up (and i didn't even bother, meaning that my booze was left sitting lonely in my pocket all game) the row in front of you has to stand up as well. We were sitting five people in six seats (courtney's dad had to fly home early) and were still elbow to elbow.

The concession stand is set up right outside the doorway between the bleachers and the concourse and is set up so the line perpendicular to the flow of traffic between the bleachers and the concourse. I never knew stadium design was a special olympics event.

The stadium holds about 107,000 people, but could take out 10,000 seats and i'm still not sure it would be comfortable. I know it's too much to ask for a school to show a little pride and reduce the capacity of the stadium to where attending a game is less painful than piercing your tongue with a food processor, but i really wish the tennessee athletic director would attend a game in the seats we sat in.

Rocky Top and Neyland Stadium can bite my ass.

In the row in front of us was a married woman and her kid and to their right was a married man (not her husband). On the first big play, the woman shook her pompom and hit me in the face (if that tells you how close together the seats were).

The woman and the man who wasn't her husband annoyed me, probably moreso than the drunk guy at the port-o-potties before the game.

At first the woman talked about how her dad had a plane and was going to fly her to the arkansas game. That didn't bother me nearly as much as her underwear. whenever she would sit down, courtney would nudge me and point. For the early part of the game, her white thong would peek out from her jeans. I don't know if she took them off or what, but the second half of the game involved me and courtney tricking each other into looking at the lady's rather gruesome asscrack.

I don't understand what the deal is with females and their need to advertise their drawers or lack thereof. maybe i'm just getting old (get off my lawn) but that just does absolutely nothing for me. And trust me, when me and the guys are naked in the sauna together after a steamy post-workout shower at the Y, all we talk about is girls. Ok, that even grossed me out a little. weiner.

At the Saints games, there are two young women (mid-20s to early 30s) whose asses and underoos are always hanging out. One of them was nothing but asscrack last home game, and the other one had her thong showing in the front and the back. (it was black with white piping and looked to be some sort of cotton-nylon composite).

As for the guy sitting in front of us, he was shamelessly implementing the "look how much I love kid" method of flirting with buttcrack showperson. i originally put "shower" but i didn't want y'all to have the mental picture of a buttcrack shower. i don't know if a buttcrack shower would involve water coming out of a buttcrack, or buttcracks coming out of a shower head.

Anyway, there are simply no words that would do justice to how pathetic the slapnuts in front of me was. You'll just have to take my word for it. But he was being all gross affectionate with his son while chatting up the lady and offering to buy her son stuff while he went to the concession stand.

LSU won the game.

We go back to the cars and get mooned along the way. Then we go to a mexican restaurant that makes guacamole for you fresh tableside. talked a couple of tennessee fans at the bar while we waited for a table. he asked me about Les Miles. I asked him if he had an hour to spare. he didn't.

from there we went back to the hotel and went to sleep. I had very angry dreams that night. In the first one, i was yelling at the officials who spotted the ball on the 4th and 7 catch that kept the game alive for LSU. All i did in the entire dream was curse out these two officials.

Then in another dream, i was up on this loft with a group of people i don't know. One of the people was about to leave, but this other guy told him if he left the people down stairs would kick his ass. So i says, "i know some white guy with braces isn't talking about somebody getting their ass kicked." and he really did have braces, too. it was funny.

So he comes up to me and tries to start a fight, but i put him in this badass kung fu grip and told him i wouldn't hurt him if he'd just leave. but he kept trying, and i was like "ok, i warned you" and put him in the Boston Crab, old school WWF wrestling-style.

We got up the next morning and ate breakfast. I got eggs, sausage, a blueberry muffin, biscuits and gravy, hashbrowns and french toast. I put ketchup on my hashbrowns and put the french toast on a separate plate with syrup. when i was done with the french toast, i used the extra syrup for my sausage. i had my eggs between my biscuit and my hashbrowns. i ate my hashbrowns last so i wouldn't get ketchup on everything.

i also had orange juice. and it had pulp in it. i don't like pulp in orange juice. one time when i was kind of young i took a sip of orange juice and said, "yuck, there was a lot of pulp in that sip." but my brothers said that i said shit and not sip. but i didn't say shit. i wouldn't have said that.

I guess that's enough for now.