Friday, February 3, 2012

Of Groundhogs and Ass Kickings

Did everyone have a good Groundhog Day yesterday? Did everyone celebrate it by watching the Bill Murray classic Groundhog Day? That was my favorite movie for a few years when I was a kid. Though that was back when pretty much anything Bill Murray did was awesome. Before shit like The Royal Tenenbaums. A first date I went on back in the day wanted to see A Life Aquatic when it was first out, and within 15 minutes I stopped watching the movie and started watching my date laugh while thinking of elaborate escape plans and how this would be our last date. But anything pre-Rushmore that Mr. Murray was in is pure gold. He was also the best part of Zombieland, and the rest of that movie was pretty effin' good (I apparently say "effin'" now). My brother has the same birthday as Bill Murray. Badassery runs in the Toasty family. Here is a real conversation my brother and I had over text yesterday:

Toastmaster General (my brother): Have you watched Groundhog Day yet?

Me: No, it’s only like 1pm here [we live in different time zones].

TG: Toasty! You know the tradition! You wake up, watch Groundhog Day while eating donuts and juice, and then you can get back to sleepies.

Clearly Groundhog Day is serious business in my family.

Now on to other important news: the Super Bowl. Long time readers can probably guess where I stand. This Sunday feels like the retelling of the best story ever told. At least it better.

Now of course, if the New York Giants win I will be elated to the point of maybe actually hugging someone on purpose and not for the express purpose of getting laid. However, ideally I don’t just want the Giants to win. I want them to destroy the Patriots. I want it to be a legendary blow-out that will be spoken of in hushed, reverent tones until the end of time. I want the final score to be no less than 87 to no more than 0. By the fourth quarter I want our douchebag punter Steve Weatherford playing quarterback (because why the fuck not?) and the Patriots still can’t score a single fucking point. I want the loss to be so humiliating that the wives of every single player, coach, and staff member of the Patriot franchise simultaneously divorces them for the shame of their performance and the entire Patriot brand. I want “had anything to do with the 2012 New England Patriots” to be a new legally recognized reason for marital annulment.

TL;DR: Fuck the Patriots.

Though nobody wants the Patriots to loss more than my dad. When it was down to the Ravens or the Patriots, I admit I was leaning more towards wanting to play the Ravens, to help wash the bitter taste of the Super Bowl we do not speak of. But not my dad:

Me: So if we win the NFC Championship (psssh, if) then we’ll be playing the Ravens or the Patriots in the Super Bowl. Either way it’s a rematch.

Dad: Yeah, I want it to be the Patriots.

Me: Really? I mean, I’m always for beating the Patriots, but we kinda been there done that only four years ago. And the Ravens…well you know.

Dad: Yeah but no. I want to beat those scuzoids [this is seriously my dad’s version of swearing. I have never heard him say anything worse or even this bad about anyone in his whole life].

Me: Well, the Ravens could beat them and then they wouldn’t even make it to the Super Bowl.

Dad: Oh no, I want them to get to the Super Bowl so that they get their hopes up, then it’ll feel even worse when they lose. This maximizes the disappointment and hurt they will feel. Also, I want US to beat them. I want them to know who’s in charge.

Then he used the word “scuzoids” a few hundred more times before we hung up.

See, my dad grew up in New England so he has a long standing hatred of the New England Patriots and their fans. Just like how my brother and I grew up in the Washington, D.C. area and hate the Redskins almost as much as we love the Giants. Also the Redskins blow so hard the hookers on 9th should take notes.

I’m going to end with one last real life conversation relating to the upcoming game:

Roommate: You know Belichick was the defensive coordinator for the Giants under Bill Parcells?

Me: Yeah, then he decided to come out from under Parcells’ shadow and coach his own team only to discover he was nowhere near as talented and the only way he could win was by cheating.

Roommate: He has more Super Bowl rings than Parcells.

Me: From.Cheating.

Roommate: …fair enough.

[Side note: I just discovered that if you type “Belichick” into Google, the first auto-suggestion is “Belichick cheating”. Google knows what’s up].

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