Pass the arsenic. I need it. I can’t win, and I told TLW (The Little Woman) she married a loser. The Macaroni Man, my nephew, came over to watch the football game with me, and I swear we are the only two Jet fans left. The reason we are the only two left is that they STINK REAL BAD, AND WE DON’T KNOW ANY BETTER!
I mean, I had a double by-pass, yet I root for the Jets, and if the doctors find out, they will find a rest home for me where they don’t have radios, TV or internet service for me to know what is happening to those stinking bums.
There I was Sunday, a beer at the ready, chips in place set to root on to victory. Maybe I should stop before the kickoff and kneel down and pray. Will it help? Not if some crazed fan of the other team is praying. And what if it’s a nun praying against my team? Will Jesus smite me? And what exactly is a smite?
I have decided not to pray for victory, but to pray for the end of the season, or of a life on Sundays that will keep me away from the TV. Away from the misery and frustration of the football season.
So starting Sunday, I will take up knitting, buy up all those books on knitting and different colored wool to while my time away until the opera season opens. So if you need socks, scarves, sweaters or gloves, put your order in now,
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