Apparently a Super Bowl party isn’t supposed to involve a White Elephant gift exchange or caroling, or scavenger hunts, or craft projects, or costumes, or any of the activities I had planned. It seems people prefer to sit and *gasp* watch the game.
I don’t get it. All I saw on the TV screen was a whole mess of yellow pants. I’m told the people in the yellow pants won. All I know for sure is that we went through 5lbs of cheese and my stomach hurts.
Speaking of cheesy, I’ve seen a lot of ridiculous things atop of peoples’ heads (last night included) but this might be the best one ever. As per usual, that Keeping You Awake fellow likes to send me weird shit. I guess he just assumed because I live in the land of tall bangs and long nails that I needed to know about the joys of the Bang-go cap.
Its not just a hat. OH NO! It’s so, so much more than that. Its also a visor. Its a way of life. Its a cure for cancer AND a fashion revolution. I bet if I buried one in the planter next to St. Joe, my apartment would sell instantly for double the asking price!
If you ask me, these hats were designed by prim and proper zombies with a penchant for golf brains. I mean, how many times have you been just about to bite into a succulent cerebellum…er…I mean orange…and been overwhelmed with frustration upon realizing you first have to PEEL the damn orange? Then as you’re peeling it, the brains…er…juice run all over your hands, down your wrists, and into the cuff of your recently starched shirt. (Zombies love starch. True story.) Its a bitch, right?
When I was a kid, Mom would cut a small circle out of the orange rind, shove a straw in there, and leave me to spend the next four hours trying to suck all the juice out of that thing. (Wow. Re-reading that sentence I suddenly have a whole new appreciation for my mother and her sick sense of humor.) The point being, I didn’t make a mess. The rind kept the juice corralled, contained and off of her hardwood floors.
Now look at this damn cap again:
No, REALLY look at it. Try and see it from a zombie perspective.
I rest my case. Yet again, I’ve saved your life, Interwebz. You’re welcome. Now go forth and Monday. I’ll be here holding my stomach and moaning. And maybe shopping online for some yellow pants.