I'll bump this up in the queue because it won't mean shit in a few days.
Yea. But I got the winner wrong again, so fuck me. I guess I'm good at guessing how many points teams will score, just not who the real champions are. It explains why I choose the wife I did. She looks great on paper. Turns out, she's a fuckin' fart machine.
I underestimated Tom Brady. I'm willing to admit it. I'm also willing to admit that anyone who underestimates Tom Brady is a lot like a stupid piece of shit. He's the greatest quarterback of all time. Hoping he isn't doesn't make it so. Just like hoping when my wife farts, that I'm not going to get hit in the face with a waft of steamed garbage a moment later.
So, I was a field goal away from the final score. That counts for something. Maybe a blowjob from the wife? That's the safest way to go, because her end is usually pointing away from me while that's happening.
Short Answer: Seriously. Fuckin' fart machine.