I don't get into football, but I watch the playoffs and the Super Bowl, and all I can say right now is - bring on the Super Bowl.
The extreme frustration felt by those of us who have a pretty good idea of how our nation's government ought to conduct itself, but instead are watching the amateur hour, grease-my-palm, take-it-and-like-it, working against the will of the American people festival in DC, is just about to cause a snap.
Snap, hey, that's a football term, right? (Seems like it probably is, anyway.)
So though we haven't learned anything new this week, Obama is still acting like a dictator, and all his little commies are marching in lock-step behind him, singing, "hey hey, ho ho, 'Bama's gonna be just like Castro!" and the Republicans are all smiles that they threatened a ban on MSNBC, retracted it, and are once again looking for "something big" in exchange for never winning nationally again, I prefer to feel hopeful that there will indeed be a football game to watch Sunday night, thank the Lord.
I'll spend some time this weekend making snacks, making sure there is plenty of beer, (probably should dust the television screen) and so on, and I pledge to not think about our rinky-dink national embarrassment that is DC.
I'll try not to remember the thoughts I had this week, like how Obama is going to raise the federal minimum wage to upwards of ten dollars an hour, while federal workers already make twice that of those of us in the silly forgotten deserts of the private sector. Or how when I did for a moment tune in to the State of the Union address, just to see five or six Republicans jumping up to clap for some stupid line of Obama's aimed squarely at their throats and they don't even know it. Or even the oxymoronic Speaker of the House, who has a hard time with actual speech; accept blame on behalf of the Republican Party for Obama's partial shuttering of government.
Gee, do you think the guys playing football on Sunday will hand the ball to the opposing team? Not likely, unless there's an interception. (See, I catch on to some of it..)
Speaking of interceptions, I won't be at all interested in remembering some of Obama's high times at Punahou, when he used to jump in out of turn and grab for a shared blunt, provided by Gay Ray, who was killed with a ball peen hammer by his gay lover. Or about his mentor, Frank Marshall Davis, who was a commie friend of Obama's commie grandfather. Between Punahou and Chicago, it was here a commie, there a commie, everywhere a commie, commie.
You know, there was a time in American history when we actually fought against communism.
But, though I don't claim to know everything about football, and I really am just a casual observer, I know that these games usually come down to who wants it more, and it is that observation that may allow me the peace of mind of ignoring politics for four hours.
Both of those teams are going to fight to win. Mr. Laser-rocket arm is going to do his best and shout Omaha a couple dozen times and there will be blood. The other quarter back I don't know all that well, but he's calling on God, so Mr. Laser-rocket better look out. It's exciting just to think about all the slamming they'll do all the opportunities they will not waste in a huge, gloriously over-hyped, capitalist's dream in nicer weather than first thought in New Jersey.
It won't be as lopsided an effort as the game played in DC.
And yes, if possible, I'll not remember that there is a governor in New Jersey, as long as he stays quiet and out of sight, which is an impossibility for him, so now I'm getting a little worried that I won't be able to tune out politics, but then, apparently we aren't allowed to, since I see Bill O'Reilly will be interviewing President Choom before the game.
Bill says it's gonna be like a boxing match, an alpha interviewing an alpha.
I'm going to wait until exactly 6:30 before I tune in.