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schencka
Football Season

Oh, the movement corn in the Fall in the Midwest, and the cupidity of the young football players. Who are they and what do they do in the wee hours? Well, those are the thoughts that I had after reading Jeremy's blog, who recounted the sights and sounds of Lincoln, NE, on a Saturday with a home game. Blackshirts! The Husker Nation! Too bad the game is not carried down here. Jess said that she wanted to watch. I was interested, too, for a moment.

Here in Tucson (and yes, I did see this town unfortunately referred to as "Lil' Mexico" in the absolutely unprofessional UofA daily, the Daily Wildcat), they have the games at night--7 p.m. to be exact--er, 7:05 p.m. That is when the weather is tolerable. I think it would be a great advantage, though, if Arizona would play, for instance, Utah (whom they play today) in the middle of the day, preferably sometime between 10 and 4. That new coach Stoops really missed one there.

Jess and I have domestic bliss at our fingertips. Yet it is being snatched away by the purveyors of distrust, disunity and he-who-shall-not-be-named. Yes, I blame Fox News, President George W. Bush and the Project for a New American Century. Also the Republican National Party. Well, enough of that droll. This morning Jess woke up to the sound of me cleaning our kitchen up (it's really nice, actually, with all the toys), and was offput by this. I then proceeded to point out that it is her responsibility to clean up the kitchen after I do all the cooking. She was not appreciative of this reminder. Yes, disunity. Perhaps it's because we watched _Outfoxed_ last night. Even the feel-goodness of _School of Rock_ could not overcome the sheer negativity of Bill O'Reilly clips and his upbraiding of a 9/11 victim's son. Tisk.

Anyway, to make a long story short(er), I have been directed to leave the house and stay out of it for the entirety of today. Jess recounted, during our argument, that I seem to always be at this house. This may be true. But more importantly than this, I have decided that I don't like margaritas. They give me brain freeze, headaches in the morning and cause Jess and me to fight over who should clean up the kitchen floor, and how. Drinking alcohol=bad. Reading Derrida and Nietzsche=good. Mental note for a graduate student.

Okay, good tidings all ye of the Husker Nation. May your crises be few, may Jake Plummer and ASU never again haunt your dreams and may you crush the unworthy with the "force of a thousand suns," the amount of which Jess says that she hates me (she really good rhetorically, ain't she?). Later.

 
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