Los Angeles, CA
I'm hungover. Throbbing head. Stomach ache. Empty bottle of rum. I can't recall ever embarking on a 48-hour liquor-infused bender in the City of Angels. Yet, that's what happened. I got super sloppy before the Jets game even started, as accurately depicted from Nicky. Chicago Bob came over to watch both of the games. His Bears got stomped in the first game and I was already schwilly before the Jets game kicked off. Man, what a fucking joke. The Jets crushed my hopes two years in a row. At least I won money betting against them.
I lost a prop bet with Steelers fan Mean Gene. We bet on a huge pig-out meal at In-N-Out payable this summer in Las Vegas. I lost and now on the hook for a 4x4 and chocolate shake for Geno. Good game, sir.
Green Bay and Pittsburgh are in the Super Bowl, and for once Sports Illustrated actually got a prediction right. I was hoping for a Chicago Bears/NY Jets Super Bowl. Bob and I joked that we'd road trip to Dallas to try to see the game. Alas, my football season is officially over. I can watch the Super Bowl in 13 days with a modest bet on it and not have panic attacks over the fate of my favorite team. I'll leave that up to Mean Gene.