Here’s to the G-Men, breaking it DOWN!
#22 is a great number (sigh…) and the above video is glorious. Other than that, we’re done with sports talk now. Woof.
When the good shit happens, people like to get freaky. Winning is a wonderful thing. I’m all about it. I like to take my pants off and go to Sea World. Some make dignified toasts while others sniff glue in the alley behind Madaba. If there’s anything left in this world with giving a flying monkey poo about, it’s partying on down. I wish every day was a theme party. I hope that one day flash mobs won’t be so fleeting. That state law will require us to boogie in the middle of GCT, then rendez-vous at the clooob to pop bottles, hand in hand. Dancing and pixie sticks. Drinking and wiggling. Air-humping and pop, lock and dropping it. That, my friends, is how we’ll conquer global warming, Al Queda, J-Woww, Liars, Carnies, the Python outbreak in Florida, and the Tea Party. A girl can dream.
So, as much as I hate football, let me make the over-arching feeling of revelry extend to the greatest moments of party-rocking and celebratory nutsackery that I can find: