When Boys Played Like Men (With Some Seahawk Hatred Thrown In)- The Sunday Collage
Superbowl Sunday in my past life was my biggest holiday. We got it on. Oh the parties. There was drunken debauchery, laughing, frottage, (spell check does not recognize that word) hella big drinking, and some other things that didn't amount to anything beyond simple misdemeanors. I vaguely remember someone passing out in a plate of food once, people taking off clothes, unfortunately they were always men. Kiss music blaring every year at the half. The problem with all of that fun is that we were the police department. We kept it pretty quiet but the harsh reality was- I think people knew. Wives were forced into piloting us home. One of the last, great parties resulted in me getting my ass chewed all the way home. And I'll tell ya something else. I remember that. I haven't really cared who won the Superbowl since Peyton Manning handed the Saints their first win- but this year is different. I've watched Seattle talk trash this entire season, especially Golden Tate. Th...