it never sticks anymore, does it?

c. 9:30 a.m.

After all that hunny yesterday at the tasting, I felt like Pooh Bear and barely made it to the next feeding…

Last year, when I went to this stuporbowl party, it was left to me to explain to the Israeli couple about the game, which is like having a New Guinea headhunter explain the intricacies of the Roman Catholic College of Cardinals. This year, there were actual fans in attendance. Be afraid, be very afraid. When I left at the beginning of the forth quarter, the biggest fan was incredulous; how the hell could I leave during such an exciting game? But of course I didn’t care in the slightest about the game. Another attendee, mostly in jest, questioned my patriotism. I know more people watch the game than vote, which is one reason why I’m not a patriot of the consumerocracy. The loudest fan, who could remember where he was during the previous superbowls of his viewing-life, proclaimed his love of animals several times, noting that he wouldn’t go to movies where animals were even fictionally hurt, and condemning the commercials in which animals were threatened, but having no problem with a game in which his fellow human beings smash into each other again and again, notably brutalizing each other, causing serious long-term health effects, and even shortening their lives. Ah, well, we are all full of contradictions. Since I was evidently the only party-goer with a refrigerator, I was given most of the leftovers. It was entirely too much, so I started giving it away on the way home.

Tomorrow's the prexy-primary. ABC, damn it!