this is how la commish feels after watching the indianapolis colts have their way with the new england rats last night, 27-20.
who knew you could wake up so happily, and all without an exorbitant bar tab and the accompanying notch on the lipstick case to show for it? onward to the superbowl....
but first, LA COMMISH'S NOTES ON THE GAME...
attention, all boys who want me: calling me in the middle of a colts game??!! seriously?
speaking of dicks.... lying on the couch in a chilli & red burgundy-induced food coma, la commish couldn't help but notice how the camera inexplicably continued to pan to the back of evil #12's head. which la commish very grudgingly admits is quite smartly coiffed, considering that he was sporting a sweaty helmet head. (not to mention the look of utter defeat in his beady little eyes.) la commish wonders: is tom brady a man of the people, who goes to his local barbershop when in need of a trim, or is he a fancy salon man? she's betting he's a fancy salon man, judging by the perfection of his locks. wuss. all the hair gel in the world couldn't save him from getting his ass whupped by her boy peyton, allowing 4 interceptions, 5 turnovers, and accumulating only 201 yards on 20 of 35 passing. (which is the fancy way that rats.com described having their footballs served on a platter slathered with colts special sauce.)
and the play of the day goes to... colts wideout (do they just make up these positions as they go along?) marvin harrison, who caught the impossible catch while managing to keep both feet on the ground and scoring a TD late in the 3rd quarter. (or it might've been the 4th quarter. red burgundy does a lot to turn a girl's memory screwy.) imagine what he could do with both feet OFF the ground....
magic hands marvin, about to catch a beauty from peyton, sometime late in the game.
but although he had a great night, he's still only a colt she'd shake hands with and congratulate profusely.
la commish is reserving the rest of her body parts to MVP of the game (and of her heart)....
peytie pie, who could get play every day from yours truly.
and finally, the dumb sports announcer call of the day goes to.... whoever it was that described a colts player as "squirting out of bounds." a phrase which struck fear in the heart of la commish, as squirting out of bounds is the thing she is most fearful of. (after the thought that her missing keys are most likely in the hands of a sociopathic neighbor who is currently plotting to kill her in her sleep.) la commish, and the world, are not yet ready for either her early demise or for a la commish, jr....
Happy Monday!
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