Filet of Seahawk

Filet of Seahawk

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn.

In Pittsburgh, that’s what all the restaurants were advertising as their daily specials today — “Filet of Seahawk.” And hot damn, my boys WON the Super Bowl! Cahr Pahr!

(That’s “Cowher Power” for those of you who speak non-Pittsburghese.)

I knew we were going to win. First of all, I was wearing my lucky shirt (pictured). But more importantly? As halftime ended and the game was about to begin again, a Bon Jovi song was playing in the stadium. I mean, hello, my favorite team AND my favorite band? It’s called a sign!

I was yelling and going apeshit through the game — it was an awesome one. I didn’t cry, though, till Jerome Bettis spoke at the after-show and announced his retirement with a simple, “The ‘Bus’ stops here.” *sniffle*

If I had any brains at all (let’s dream for a minute here), I would have spared my neighbors the yelling and whooping from inside the hacienda. I regret not arranging for a personal day tomorrow, as I should have gone to one of the District’s many Pittsburgh bars and met some men.

Seriously, I pass like a ghost through the streets here, but when I go to Pgh just to VISIT, I get phone numbers. I should’ve been partying with other Iron City expats instead of dreading my morning routine experiencing my own fumble.

Oh, yeah, about that. …

I had just painted my toenails and wandered into my bedroom for something. But then I heard the part where my boy “Big Ben” was making the touchdown just before halftime, and well, I RAN for the living room.

Problem being, I was trying not to distub the wet nail polish, so I was running with my toes upturned and with nary a thought that there might be any, say, OBSTACLES like a CAT TOY in my path.

Alas, I went ass over teakettle, just as Ben was also face-down on the ground. At least he earned a few game points for his trouble. Me? Left a few red paint-streaks on the carpet.

Forget buying game jerseys — I need the fucking HELMET to walk around my house in. 😉

One Lonely Response to Filet of Seahawk

  1. old freind :

    Were freaking number 1 BABY!!!!!!!! The Terrible Towel rules! and Myron for President (could you imagine)….I can see your thingies by the way…huh, huhh…huhuhhh……..