Last night was the annual Super Bowl Party at the Flamingos. Technically, this is Flamingo Joe's party -- a couple of years ago he sprang it on me the week before (or maybe it was just last year) -- "This weekend I've invited people over to watch the Super Bowl." Excuse me? Who are these people? You don't have any people that I don't have. Where did you find these people? "They're work friends." You have work friends? Are you sure? I didn't know you talked to people at work? Don't you work with computers all day? Do they know that they are your work friends? Apparently they did because they came over and we grilled hamburgers and watched the Super Bowl on the porch. It was lovely.
This year it was about 10 degrees too cool to watch the game on the porch, so we moved the party to the Mancave:
We were heavy on the Colts' fans -- the only Saints' fan that showed up nearly got killed, so he left. The Colts' Gnome came and the Colts' Touchdown Teddy, but alas and alack, they had drunk too much of that blue punch someone brought and passed out before halftime. So the Colts' fans went home muy disappointed.
Mace, however, scored bigtime. Somebody rubbed ashes under his eyes so he'd look like a football player and next thing you know, he and Blythe are all cozied up next to each other sharing a cookie. Blythe likes to play with trucks and motorcycles, too, so it's really a match made in heaven.
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