I Love Football!

I dunno' about you, but I just luuuuuv football!

Or, rather I should say that I love to watch football!

Or, better put, I love to watch enormous guys beat the crap out of each other, every thirty seconds, for three hours, trying to navigate the incomprehensible rules that guide this stupid game.  Even when interrupted by extraneous and spurious yellow flags, thrown by those wannabe refs who are just jealous of the enormous players who are making more money than they are.  

Actually, I love to watch all that stuff mentioned above, but most particularly when the weather is abhorrent.  Six feet of blowing snow.  Ice storms throughout the region.  Sub-zero temperatures enhanced by 30 mile per hour winds.  Snow drifting so badly the refs have to use blowtorches to clear the yard markers.  Ice crystals forming on beards and mustaches.  Dripping snot flash-freezing onto bright red faces.  Bone-crushing collisions in -7 degree weather you can hear all the way to the broadcasting booth.  Footballs harder than concrete.  Everyone there totally miserable.  Me, comfy as all get out, fireplace blazing, brandy snifter snifting, old Shep curled up by my stocking-covered tootsies.  Oh yeah, I love to watch football.

I love to watch these behemoths wear little kiddie clothes and run up and down and throw and catch a funny looking ball, all while attempting to disembowel each other.  They are paid yuuuuuuuge salaries to do this, and I want them to earn their money!  I want them to twist their appendages and contort their spleens.  I want them to rue the day they decided to keep playing a kiddie game instead of getting a real job, like normal people.  

And I want to hide in the bushes, so to speak, and watch them do it.  

Football in the fall is boring.  Football in February is where I'm at...