The Saints lost. I bought books.

So yeah, the Saints lost to the Redskins. I don’t really care, but I have to admit there were a few times where I got in the spirit and yelled “Booooo” or shouted “YES!!” at the appropriate times. Once, I chanted “Who dat! Who dat! Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints!” with the eight other Saints fans that were in ear shot of our seats. OK, four times.

Five times?

The first 20 minutes of the game were dreadfully hot, but once the sun was blocked by the concrete overhang holding up the other 89,998 screaming fans, it wasn’t completely unbearable. I think I spent 34 dollars total throughout the game, buying a hot dog, a small tray of nachos and two diet cokes. Yes, all that. Totally insane, no?

On a completely unrelated note, on Friday I returned to the world of online purchasing, buying books on Amazon.com for the first time in several years.

I’m about 35 years behind the cool kids and have only now started reading Charles Bukowski. After buying Hollywood, Ham on Rye and Post Office from my favorite used books store, Second Story Books, I got hooked, but they didn’t have anything else. Amazon had The Most Beautiful Woman in Town for like $3 so I got that and also picked up a pair of books by David Sedaris and a couple Christopher Moore novels.

It’s gonna be a mini-xmas for me on Wednesday!

Are you ready for some football?

It seems that in some point in the too distant past, a short time after Alberto had bought season tickets from a co-worker’s mom, I agreed to go to one of the games. I picked the game where the Redskins were playing the Saints since I figured that even if I hated watching football (which I do) I could muster up some measurable level of excitement for that one, if none other.

So. The day has come. It is 10am. I am hungover. I do not feel like sitting in a large open air venue surrounded by tasty snacks and cool refreshments, watching a bunch of sweaty guys run around a field in tight pants throwing themselves against each other in testosterone fueled displays of male superiority.

Wait. I think I’m ready to rumble.