super.

SPOOOOOOOOORTS!!!!!
today is some kind of super special day,
for jocks,
college kids,
fat dads,
bored wives,
drunk people,
and small chickens everywhere.
(sorry, buffaloed winglets)
that celery stalk next to the dead bird arms
never ever gets any credit.
that's a hard style.
it's the big game.
the super sunday.
better than palm sunday.
way better than church,
and,
the perfect excuse to get sh!tty on a sunday-
and get serious about shark gluttony
while eating well beyond the borders of good sense,
and yelling at a glowing rectangle on your wall.
super stupid stupor bowl.
turn off your brains,
and cross your fingers,
maybe the squares you bought
at the office pool pay will off big!
SPOOOOORTS!!
sorry, world events.
fat shirtless americans in bodypaint
are gonna dominate the front pages,
newcasts, and radiowaves all day and night.
actually,
during the halftime bathroom breakaway flushout,
i'm pretty sure the beer/chili/b'wangs/pizza blast-off
will make the highlight reel of plumbers everywhere.
...super bowels, is more like it.
so huzzah for commercials!
hooray for chubby monsters in plastic armor!!
three cheers for nachos!!!
cowleather pigskins!
that's dumb!
rarely using feet!
that's ironic and moronic!!
dominant male archetypes!
wait, what?
yep.
cheerleaders, ya'll.
c'mon.
skirts and flirts aside,
they're not exactly advancing equality among the genders.
rockhard washerboard abs notwithstanding,
they serve the ogler more than the spectator.
(that's the guy with the huge foam finger down his pants)
it must suck to be a dumpy mom watching the game.
all big business, oversized lucky jersey,
and horde of semi-'tarded meathead spawn dropping crumbs.
y'know,
relegated to secondary support,
extraneous sideline material,
eyecandy with no overall impact on outcomes.
that's right at-home ladies,
get back in the kitchen and clean up those pizza boxes!
yay!!
Go! fight!! WIN!!!
and unless you look like those bobotic future pornlets,
fetch me another brewski out of the chillbox.
ohhhh, man.
**********
SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORTS!!!
i will be yellin' like a madman,
all damn day long,
the single super-syllable super-salute to super-ness.
sports.
sports?
sports.
most fattie-boombattie bigbottoms yell right back.
some offer high-fives,
others, the always bromantic chest splash-
they don't always get my non-specific athletic warcry,
but they like it.
super;
never quiet, never soft.....