Superbowl is almost always boring, esp. when watched in a room full of people you don't know very well. That being said, there was lots and lots (and lots) of food, weirdly underage kids who were cute but wearing flipflops (?), and, of course, Mick gyrating in a crop top at halftime.
The only really, truly awesome thing of the night came courtesy the ramblings of an approx. 19-23 year old named Dylan, who had huge sideburns and sported an Urban Outfitters ironitee. I had never met Dylan, but Dylan: I expect great things from Dylan. Dylan had had two bottles of Jaeger by 2:08 minutes left in the 3rd quarter. Other things I learned about Dylan: he's a substitute PE teacher, and has to teach tomorrow, and is wearing "a teeshirt with a tie, which will be FUCKING ON POINT, ANNNNNND I'm getting a whistle."
We told him to make the kids run suicides, and then play TV tag. There's just no way you're getting to this job on time tomorrow, Dylan.
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