Within minutes after exiting the shuttle bus, we were walking behind three Bills fans, and sure enough, one was wearing Zubas. Not the old zebra-striped variety, oh no. These must have been the new, reinvented Zubas. Guess what? JUST AS UGLY AS THE OLD ONES.

On the four mile walk up to our seats, we passed: a) more litter than I have ever seen in my life. Is it that hard to throw your garbage in a trash can? b) four drunk guys screaming fat slurs at an overweight guy walking up to his seat. I hate drunk people. c) Lots and lots of smokers who didn't seem to care that they were walking in a crowded area blowing their foul smoke in everyone's face.

The seats were great - we had a birds'-eye view of the entire field - but soon we found ourselves surrounded by more screaming drunk people. There were four men in front of us who were screaming and having a good time, but they were able to manage to keep it on the fun side. I didn't hear one "fuck" or "suck" or "bullshit" from them the entire time. Not that I care, but it gets old after a while. Of course all the kids around us kept turning around every time the two drunk dudes next to us yelled "Bullshit!" They were clearly enthralled with the fact that their ears were not restricted from hearing these wonderfully naughty words-o-contraband. "Bullshit" is, after all, very exciting to hear when one is ten.

After the touching tribute to Sean Taylor, the game started, and it was all over for me. Even with the annoying DJ announcer explaining every play, I have NO IDEA what the hell is happening on a football field. Run. Throw. Catch. Jump on eachother. Get up. Repeat. And what the hell is a "down" anyway? Why is it called a down and why are their four of them? Is it called a down because it ends when someone puts the ball down? I don't get it. And I didn't get to see any good pileups, which really stunk, because I couldn't make any homoerotic jokes to pass the time.

Here is what I was able to do, though, to pass the time:

1. Make annoying chewing sounds with my mouth in Tony's ear every time something happened in favor of the Bills. You can imagine how much he enjoyed that.

2. Try to make a Luna bar last an entire quarter by eating it very, very slowly in tiny bites. (Didn't work.)

3. Zip my coat up completely to the chin, cover my head with my hood and tighten it so that every breath I took fogged up my glasses. Goal: Completely obscure scoreboard. (Goal achieved!)

4. Make jokes and laugh incessantly over anything that sounded remotely like a body part or bodily function. "Cooley," "pass," and anything involving "ball" elicited the most silliness.

5. Wiggle my toes to the lyrics of some of my favorite songs.

6. Scan the crowd for anything Zubas-related. (Counted one hat and one pair of pants.)

7. Inform Tony that we could leave whenever he wanted to leave.

Surprisingly, these little activities made the time fly, and although I was glad when Tony suggested we watch the rest of the game from the concourse due to the rain, I still had a good time. After all, any time we're together, I'm happy.

I'm just more happy when we're watching football games from the couch.

Damn. We Italians sure do love The Gaudy. Look what some dude carved out of his basement.

Vintage Button Rings - way cool.

Check out Teller's Vegas home.

Newest football penalty call: The Business.

For the holidays: Mary and Joseph on Maury.

My new favorite people in the whole wide world: Flaggots.

100 Movies, 100 Quotes, 100 Numbers. I can't even imagine how long it would take to find and compile these.

Too bad Harry Potter hadn't seen this article before Snape got to him. Trichophagia = giant bezoar. Wow, huh?

It's official. Schools have lost their minds.

Hungry? Munch on some Fish Assholes in a Can.

Living My Life Faster - 8 Years of JK's daily photo project. SO awesome.

I'm having a love-hate relationship with TAR right now. First, the love:

I'm absolutely head-over-heels in love with Kynt and Vyxsin, the Goth couple. They were getting close to surpassing some of my favorite teams (BJ and Tyler, Ken and Gerard, Steve and Dave, Lynn and Alex) but last night they did it. Between Kynt's color guard routine and Vyxsin cradling her poor little chicken at the pit stop, I found good reason to place them in the number one slot.

I love Donald and Nicolas. Donald's feisty attitude and his foul mouth kicks a whole bunch of ass. I love Nicolas' easy relationship with his grandpa. It reminds me of my relationship with my maternal grandfather. After almost 19 years, I still miss him.

I love the new U-Turn. It's a much better alternative to the Intersection.

I love Phil with wet, spiky hair.

I love footraces. There's been a bunch already this season.

I love meltdowns. Even if it's a Racer I'm not fond of, I still love them. (See exception: Flo)

And now, the hate:

Azaria and Hendekea. I was mildly annoyed by them until her little "retard" remark last night, and now I want them GONE.

Entitlement complexes. No, it isn't "unfair" when one team continually comes in first. It's called RACING. I can handle whining about who yielded or u-turned whom, but entitlement? On the Amazing Race? Um. No.

Unkind treatment of animals. Look, I get it. Many cultures around the world view animals as sources of food, clothing, and other necessities for survival. They're not kept as pets nor are they treated as human equals. Hell, there are plenty of arguments for poorer treatment of animals in our own country than the treatment of animals in many other parts of the world. Still, chickens forced into mesh sacks, or young goats strapped into baskets on the back of a bicycle? Are there no other tasks to be performed among the culturally-rich people of Burkina Faso? Is there nothing in Ireland more interesting than screaming at a donkey to carry some peat several yards? Yes, I understand there is much to be learned about ourselves from seeing how people in other places live, but could we not focus more on the people and less on the animals in such brutal ways? The "Teach or Learn" detour, for example, was one of the best and most fascinating I've seen on any season of the Race so far. Seeing regular old Americans learning to communicate with people from a completely different culture is no less than amazing. I'm not suggesting eliminating animals from the Race legs entirely, I just think it's getting out of hand.

A little more Color Guard Kynt would make me feel a whole lot better.

I prefer thinking it's all kittens and rainbows instead, so here's my take on what really goes on in a football player pileup.

• "You guys! Quick, before I forget! Knitting party at my house after the game! I just got a new sweater pattern that includes cables and mohair! I can't wait to show it to you!"
• "Hey Bubba, when do you pick up your new Papillon puppy?" "Tomorrow, and I'm so excited! What do you think of 'Princess Butterfly' for a name? Too obvious?"
• Oh my GOD, who saw Project Runway on Wednesday? I was biting my nails for Christian at the end, weren't you? But that outfit. Bitch, please!"
• "Marshawn, are those new highlights?" "Yes, do you like them?" "Damn, they look gooood. Very natural. You need to give me the name of your stylist."
• "Does anyone have any lip balm?"
• "Could we hurry this up? There's a sale at Macy's and I want to get there before they close!"
• "Your new uniforms look great, Jason. The colors are perfect on you. I am SO a winter, and the mustard yellow on ours does nothing for me."
• "Hahahahahahahaha! Stop, that tickles!"
• "Marco!" "Polo!"
• "Be honest. Do these shoulder pads make me look fat?"

Please to add some of your own. Kthxbye.

Yesterday I dragged the boxes of decorations out of the garage, loaded up Hanson's Snowed In on the iPod, and went to town. We lit up the bushes and tree in front of the house with rainbow-colored lights and then dragged our asses to Lowe's to buy a $29 pre-lit artificial tree. I expected it to be a piece of crap, which it basically is, but with some extra lights (it only came with white lights - we added some color) and ornaments all over it, it doesn't look half bad! Cute, even.

In 2003, Tony and I spent our first Christmas together. He didn't want to decorate, but I forced my holiday cheer upon him and we emerged from Target with a multi-colored tabletop tinsel tree and a handful of ornaments. This is what it looked like:

As we started hanging the ornaments, we noticed this one was a little unusual:

"Hmmmm," we thought, "Is it us, or does that angel look pregnant?"

Indeed, she did, and she sparked in us the desire to begin a holiday tradition.

Each year, while other shoppers search for the perfect gifts for their loved ones, we scour the holiday section of the stores for the most hideous, tacky, offensive/politically incorrect ornaments we can find. If they're damaged, all the better. Let's take a look at just some of the ornaments we've collected that fit this criteria:

The flying sneaker:

Um? Why? Is this the ornament for the modern-day Achilles? I don't know. All I know is it's shiny and I'm a gay man living in a straight woman's body, so I had to have it.

The three-legged iguana:

This guy has it a lot easier than some of the others on the tree.

Like this guy:

Poor thing. Looks like Santa was on the sauce again during flying practice. (Also see: shiny.)

These two reindeer need to stay away from Tylenol PM and heavy machinery:

He's supposed to be sitting on a snowmobile, but all that's left are the handlebars. Apparently he was a little too reckless because he's also missing an antler.

This guy

is supposed to be riding a motorcycle. Instead he just looks like he's pooping.

Someone's going to have to break the news to him:

It might be time to start thinking of another sport to pursue. Chess, perhaps.

There are plenty more on the tree but I'll leave you with these. From now on, just remember: whenever you see a broken ornament in a discount bin, you can cheer up, knowing there's someone out there who'll give that sad little ornament a home for Christmas.

Looks like your ordinary paint sample, right?

Look again.

How do I get the paint sample-naming job? Best job ever!