The Super Bowl is on Sunday. This is a big game if you like football. If you don’t know what football is, or you got invited to a Super Bowl Party by some guy/girl you’re crushing on, or if you wake up from a nap on Sunday to find a crowd has gathered around you to watch “the game,” here are a few things you can say to create the illusion that you are aware of/interested in what’s going on:
EVANSTON–After falling prey to the mob mentality of the barbaric unsportsmanlike conduct of her fellow Wildcats at a year’s worth of Football games, Psychology and Sociology double-major Kelsey Andrews was appalled to finally discover why Northwestern fans jingle their keys at opposing teams.Following Northwestern’s desperate fourth quarter
drive that only prolonged the inevitable bone-chilling realization of a disappointing season touchdown in yesterday’s Minnesota game, Andrews was informed that the jingling of students’ keys is meant to imply that the other school’s students would one day be valeting the cars of Northwestern graduates.
“It’s just offensive. My mom went to Iowa State and she’s a pediatrician!”
You’ve devoted your whole life to the game. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. Winning gold is the only thing that could ever matter. You cannot fail. You will not fail. Except that, like, you failed. And now you’re stuck with silver.
That’s the plight that at least half of Olympians probably face at the conclusion of their event (sorrz guyz, I’m absolutely NOT doing any research for this). But that’s not why they all look so tickered on the medal stand. No, no. They have much better reasons than that! So, with a big old hat tip to this post from Yahoo! we proudly present the real reasons that silver medalists* have had such sour faces on the medal stand:
*Note: These are legit all silver medalists either right after
winning silver losing gold or on the podium.
They say there’s no place like home. While it has been quite fantastic to spend some time relaxing at home with my family now that finals are over, there are certain aspects of being home that I had forgotten how much I don’t like. Indeed, sadly, home doesn’t consist solely of gourmet food and a nice bed. So without further ado, I present – in all my glorious bitching – four things that have bothered me since I’ve come home.4. Putting Up Christmas Lights
There’s just nothing like a Christmas tradition. Every December, my parents hand me a string of sorry-ass fucking Christmas lights and a ladder (which, incidentally, is about as stable as the Zambian government) and give me one objective: Make the 25-foot leafless tree in front of our house look slightly more festive and slightly less flaccid. It’s especially fun when, after an hour spent climbing around the tree like a paraplegic chimpanzee, I finish decorating the tree to discover that approximately a quarter of the lights actually function. Ultimately, though, it’s worth the Christmas cheer. Every time I look at that pathetic tree and the lights which appear to have been put up by a blind lemur, I am filled with an overwhelming sense of holiday spirit. And by holiday spirit, I mean uncontrollable rage.
3. Losing To My Parents in Scrabble
I don’t know about you guys, but I love shit-talking (Side note: Being from Denver, Tim “The Jesus” Tebow has regaled me with a whole anthology of shit-talking materials). Therefore, when my parents suggest a casual post-dinner Scrabble game, I immediately acquire the attitude of a theoretical lovechild of Terrell Owens and Pau Gasol. This shit-talking strategy pays off richly, seeing as I often demolish my parents and subsequently run naked victory laps around the dining room table. And this isn’t me bragging about my Scrabble skills; the case is rather that my parents don’t give two shits about whether or not their placement of “twat” (I truly wish I were lying about my dad playing that in Scrabble) opens up availability to the Triple Word space. Tonight, however, my shit-talking strategy failed me, as I fell short by one point against my mom. Ugh. Now I just feel like a douche.
2. Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
I never thought it would be possible to make such a trainwreck out of a movie starring Natalie Portman, Ewan McGregor, and Samuel L. Jackson, but damn it all if it hasn’t been done. I mean, seriously, what a steaming cinematic shitstack. The kid who starred as Anakin Skywalker (out of principle, I’m not looking up the little fucker’s name) is more obnoxious than the Nyan Cat on methamphetamines. And Jar Jar Binks? I don’t know whose idea it was to combine the voice of an illiterate Louisiana swamp-person with the visual representation of a banana peel with birth defects, but that idea single-handedly ruined my childhood. Honestly, the only thing they could have done to make this movie any worse would be casting Nick Cage as Senator Palpatine. Yeah, just imagine it.
Maybe this is something I’m just noticing now because I spend 8 hours a day watching TV (luhhhh vacation), but vodka commercials are absolutely preposterous. The one that I find most personally absurd is a Grey Goose commercial, featuring the tagline: “To the nights you’ll never forget.” I don’t know what sort of idiots are running the marketing department over at Grey Goose, but they clearly lack a fundamental understanding of alcohol. Granted, the tagline “To the nights you’ll blackout and then discover five weeks later that you vomited gratuitously” isn’t quite as catchy, but it is certainly more accurate. It just seems that somewhere in the attempt to craft a convincing image-based appeal, the morons over at Grey Goose forgot some of the drawbacks of downing vodka. If I were Grey Goose, I’d try something more along the lines of “To the poke wars you drunkenly initiated with the entirety of your high school government class” or “To the texts you receive from your mom the next morning saying ‘You might want to take that video off of Facebook.’”