Winning Cures Everything

Met friends in the East Valley on Sunday. Super Bowl Party. Guaranteed fun.

Highway was maintained well considering two feet of snow had just fallen. My fellow drivers and I roared over the icy pavement like we were on our way to the lake to go fishing. If anyone had touched their brakes the resulting multiple crashes would have seen most of us stored outside the morgue would have been piled so high with the dead.

Off the highway the drifts were four feet high, the wind pushing them across the roads faster than the road crews could keep up with their encroachment.

Party was in a pub. I drank Red Roof cider all day long. It is the fentanyl of ciders. Strong as anti-fascists are going to need to be in the coming decades.

I had bet heavily on the Patriots. It was not looking very fucking good until the last quarter.

Today, of course, I took the day off work. Winning cures everything, motherfuckers.