Okay, so, that game pretty much sucked. And I hate it when I actually agree with something that Bobby Hebert says, like if the Saints don't win next week against the Chiefs, we should all go throw ourselves off the Huey P. Long.
But I suppose it's just things returning to normal, and I should be used to it. After all, I started watching the Saints during the "glory days" of Mike Ditka and Ricky Williams. And for some reason, I continued watching them during the Jim Haslett/Aaron Brooks days. (I blame my husband.) So, it appears we're back to the status quo. I can live with that.
On the plus side, I love the group I watch the games with. If you can still be laughing your ass off when the Panthers get yet another touchdown, it's a good day, all in all, right? It even came complete with a dramatic reading of Chris Kluwe's letter to the bigoted, homophobic Maryland politician during halftime. (Can you say "lustful cockmonster?") I also learned, although I probably could've lived without knowing about it, that some women are capable of putting a whole chicken in places that it really shouldn't go. The salmonella possibilities are endless. And horrifying. (Google it.)
Anyway, there's always next year, right? And I'm sure Jeff Duncan will make me feel better in the morning. #wegotthis
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