10 Things To Do Instead Of Watching The Super Bowl
Football: it’s not for everyone. Those of us who don’t care about the Super Bowl still have to fill our Sundays with something. Don’t say Puppy Bowl like that’s a thing to “do”. Are there people who watch the Puppy Bowl for more than 5 minutes? Or use it as something other than adorable background noise to accompany some other, more substantial activity? I’m moderately creeped out by the idea of anyone sitting down with, like, a bucket of fried chicken and watching puppies tug on each other’s ears with full, fixed attention for several whole hours. Let’s pretend no one does that, and move on. Here’s a list of other stuff you can do during the Super Bowl, and a lot of it is conducive to playing the Puppy Bowl in the background, so everyone wins.
- Arrange your entire apartment according to ROYGBIV, even if it means your hair dryer ends up in the kitchen.
- Get day drunk at any bar that doesn’t have TVs. Drunkenly shout at the bartender like he’s a ref who made a bad call. Tip heavily at the end.
- Pretend it’s the end of the world, and have sex accordingly. Call it the Super Hole. Do all the weird stuff.
- Make a list of essential reading and listening for your future children. Address them as “Jethro” as a placeholder since pre-naming imaginary kids is weird.
- Call your mom and confess something you lied about as a teenager.
- Talk in a British accent all day.
- Choreograph an interpretive dance set to “Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating in Space” by Spiritualized that explains to your roommate how you feel when they don’t do their dishes. Wear an outfit entire made of their clothes when you perform it.
- Imagine how you think tai chi is done, and do that for a while.
- Write an anonymous love letter and put it in the mailbox of any address that has your birthdate in the numbers.
- Get 11 apples. Carve lone stick figure people into 10 of them. Carve two stick figures touching hands into the last one. Arrange them on a high shelf in a row, with the doubly occupied apple in the middle. Leave the apples to rot as an effigy to the impermanence of love.
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It was excruciating. I was so bored. All we did was hold the throttle and sit there. All the coffee in the world couldn’t have kept me aware and upbeat. I stared at my odometer. Miles passed so slowly while time raced on.
He holds my hand in his lap, looks me directly into the eyes and says, “I love you more than the amount of sperm a blue robin makes.”
Took my own braces off with nail clippers.