I promise not to speak of this again. At least not until July.
February 5, 2008 | Filed under: Humdrum, The object of my obsession, Whoopdie Doo
“Football is, after all, a wonderful way to get rid of your aggressions without going to jail for it.” ~Heywood Hale Brown
Actually “Boring as Shit. But Frankly, My Dear, I Don’t Give a Damn” would have been a little more apt. A collection of text messages that Metalia has sent me during this football season. This will surely send me to some special blog hell but I cannot help it nor can my phone continue to be 98% full of text messages. Also OH MY GOD do people not use the phone to talk anymore? I have text messages that say “OK”. Someone spent 47 cents to be in agreement with me. The hell? Anyway, that is not the point yet sadly there is no point except that I feel compelled to save these messages for posterity’s sake and because Metalia is fucking hilarious. It’s good to know that I have a friend who can appreciate my screaming “Go fuck your mother” at some 200lb man who can’t hear me while chain smoking because the nerves, people. The NERVES. And really, I have nothing more unless you want to hear all about Potsdam, New York. Also; look forward to all of your burning questions being answered. The ones about my hair, my makeup, and why I think drinking two bottles of wine is acceptable (see: POTSDAM). Riveting, my friends.
*******
Haaa! Was literally going to my phone to text you about the game…and boobs.
I can’t believe they’re going to win this BOOBS I’m so happy BOOBS (Yeah, I’m using “boobs” like “stop” in an old-tyme telegram)
I know! My ass is clenched. I’m so stressed. That may have been too much info. but I can’t help it! This game is making me crazy!
I am honest-to-God PACING THE FLOORS.
“FUCK!” Works…so does “You big bunch of Green Bay twatsicles!*” (Apropos because of the frigid temperatures you see)
I actually cannot breathe.
They should take Tynes out back and take care of him, like an old racehorse past its prime
Me too; he’s just so dashing and…wholesome.**
Things I may or may not have done this morning; Went to your Flickr set of Giants training camp. Specifically the pic of u and Plax…and kissed the screen for luck.
Fuck yeah!
Maybe I’ll name my unborn child Steve Smith.
I’m partial to Tyree…or Tynes now.
Fucking Pats.
I keep telling myself that Plax is due for a big play.
I TOLD YOU MY BOY WAS DUE!
Are you watching? My secret boyfriend Spitzer just ripped on Boston and now YOUR lovah Schumer*** is kissing the Giants’ collective ass.
*Borrowed from Danny
**In reference to my not so secret crush - at least not anymore - on Mitt Romney. Just because I’d rather have my eyelashes removed with a plier than have him as President, doesn’t mean I can’t find the man good looking. So there.
***I was joking when I mentioned Schumer. Seriously. Mitt’s the only man for me.
She Likes Purple says:
All my text messages are spam. But I refuse to believe that’s because I don’t have any friends as awesome as the both of you obviously are. And just because I refuse to believe it doesn’t mean it’s not actually totally and completely true.
kdiddy says:
when the Steelers went to the Super Bowl two years ago I was a nervous wreck. I started drinking during the first quarter, not because I wanted to party, but because I NEEDED to. to stop the shaking. then when they won I went out into the street and screamed. haters can talk all the shit that they want about football. winning the super bowl is fucking fun as hell.
I was happy for Plax, too.
Danny says:
That may be the most appropriate application of “twatsicle” yet.
Perhaps “Packersicle”?
ali says:
hey…i love those twatsicles!!
metalia says:
In my defense? I didn’t send these all in a row…they make much more sense in context. Particularly the ones about boobs. As for my unborn child’s name, I’m still torn between Tyree or Plaxico/Plaxica.
I’m defending Metalia to say that she’s right and that the whole BOOBS thing was my fault. And these are in order from earliest to the most recent and I had to write them somewhere because my phone stopped accepting text messages. If my phone stops accepting text messages then I’ll probably never speak to anyone again. And that would be sad.
I just used an entire paragraph to say: “You had to be there”. She’s still funny though and I still think she should name her child Plaxico or, my personal favorite, Kawika Tyree. Has a nice ring to it, no?
K says:
I guess I’ll be the only one to comment on Potsdam!
Route 11B, The Cactus Cantina….some memories. 
I went to school up in that vicinity and spent some time in good ol’ Postdam….froze my a– off most days - the alcohol helped. 
Angella says:
You BOTH are hilarious.
True confessions?
I am clueless about football.
Also?
I have NEVER texted.
*Hangs head in shame*
gorillabuns says:
Is it strange that I thought of you during the last minutes of the game?
Kristabella says:
These are classic!
I saved some of my drunk texts to people from a summer Cubs outing and it was like conversations with myself. That only I found hilarious.
I love texting. The phone is stupid.
Liz says:
Mitt Romney? Really? Obama is way hotter.
Obama is significantly better looking. You see, we had been discussing our random crushes, Metalia’s is Spitzer and mine is Romney. Obviously I think Obama is good looking but Romney is my ‘out of the blue’ choice, since I don’t ordinarily go for older, white, republicans. But yes, Obama? Very good looking. Even better in person.
BOSSY says:
But Mitt Romney is made of plastic. Sweaty under sheets.
Sarah and the Goon Squad » Blog Archive » Why I Didn’t Watch the Super Bowl says:
[...] from No Pasa Nada [...]
Vaguely Urban says:
Twatsicles? Possibly the finest word I’ve had the pleasure of encountering in eons.