We’ve spent the better part of this week – the hollow vacuum of Super Bowl coverage where local news outlets are contorting themselves into positions better used for smelling one’s own farts to find every big game angle – fighting back against weak-willed Minneapians who have the self-awareness of a sheet of ice (only an implicit acknowledgement of their change in state), but we have yet to direct our focus to those bro-tastic peons from Boston. That’s next week. For us, at least. It seems they have already set their sights on our fine city, and boy, is it predictable. Behold:
I could easily dive on top of the used grenade that is the Santa-snowballs-booing trifecta (one asshole booed Carson Wentz for not signing an autograph upon his arrival in Philly*), but I truly, deeply, madly Savage Garden enjoy their genuine fear of Fly Eagles Fly, like it’s an anthem upon which we will roast their souls. Maybe we shall.
*Autograph seekers are, generally speaking, the fucking worst.
H/T to reader Gary