Superbowlin'

Last night we all know that the Packers won.  And in the G-money household, it was glorious.  There were chips, and pita chips, and pretend-to-be-healthy chips, and dips of all shapes and sizes.  There were pulled pork sandwiches that dripped everywhere, carrots that crunched magnificently, and his and hers valentine's cookies.

And when the game started there were cheers and there were curses.  There were pelvic thrusts and jubilation.  There were rape jokes.  (disclaimer: we do not actually think rape is funny. trust me. we do think it's a good joke opportunity when the quarterback who has been accused of sexual assault a time or two is losing and claiming injustice. good luck there, buddy...)

While all this was going on, I was thinking about my list.  You know, my celebrity list.  Everyone has one, right?  Where you and your lover decide what infidelities are acceptable, and limit them to some number like 5 or 10 or however many you can tap in one night.  One of those lists.

I have a list.  Except, I don't keep track of it very well. I add and subtract members on a whim.  These days it's something like this:

1. Morgan Freeman (ok, not really.  that's our favorite joke.  except maybe.  if he asked me nicely.  or if he stood on a table and told me he was the HNIC!)

So, Morgan Freeman
2. Don Cheadle
3 -? Any of the non-domestic-abusing men in Takers
and my token athlete - A-Rodg.

Yes, Aaron Rodgers has been the QB on J-Man's fantasy football team for two years now and his unshaken, boy-next-door smile keeps me cheering through 12 hours of RedZone Sundays week after week after week.  I imagine him walking to class, sliding in late next to his lab partner in college.  Playing Madden with his buddies in a dingy dorm room.  Just, you know, being a guy.  But a good guy.  Maybe holding the door for the girl behind him. Hi-fiving the screaming cheese-head fans.  Calling his mom on a Sunday that isn't Mother's Day - just because.  Holding my hand as I deliver his baby.

Wait.  Whoops!  Where's that delete key when you need it?!

Although, see, that's actually part of our clause.  With the others, J-Man and I have never discussed consequences.  It's a one-time-only sort of a deal.  But with A-Rodg, unprompted, he has given me his blessing to carry this allstar's baby.  (assuming I'll ever get to carry anyone's baby).  He says it would be worth it.  And everyone likes a mixed baby - look at how ridiculously cute my nephews are.  Painfully cute.  And imagine the money we could make.  And I bet A-Rodg would come visit once every couple years to toss the football with his kid and autograph my stretchmarks.  What a fabulous life we could have, me and J-Man and baby A-Rodg-G.

See, these are the things I was thinking.  Totally non-football things.  Completely, utterly, ridiculous scenarios that aren't tied to any actual information I've ever researched about him, his team, his mom, or his opponents.

Just me and my goofy imagination keeping me entertained between commercials. 

Speaking of which, jury is still out on which commercial was the best.  Probably the girl getting slammed with a pepsi to the head.  I told you it's funny when people fall.  No?