School sucks

So here I sit in class, fighting the Z monster who is chopping away at my neck and trying my hardest to stay awake. So what happens? The mind starts to wander. What to talk about? Hickeys? PDA? Little people (always a great topic!)? Superbowl? Why not all?

I have always dreamt of going to the Superbowl and this year I had a brief opportunity to go. A good friend of the mopes was going to be in South Beach for the big game. The game plan was set. Four guys in SB, no worries, indebted to our ears after this trip, wasted for five days, beautiful people in every direction, oh yea, and football. That dream was shattered and short-lived. Instead we were relegated to our couches in the confines of our homes. All is well though. The beer was flowing and times were good. But I couldn't help but imagine what life would have been like in SB.

Here is what I think would have happened:
We arrive in Florida in Wednesday fully prepared to mooch off of our good friend who is already there. We head to the cab stand just after sucking down a couple of cold MLs at the nearest pub. Once we get settled in we proceed to the local hot spot. The first thought is we find a good bar filled with little people where we could hang out and maybe get a few numbers....since they are smaller than normal, do they get drunk on a fraction of the amount of alcohol as the average sized person? Ok, I am getting off track.....After solidifying a few numbers into the ole cell phone we move on to the next venue. On the way we would get questioned about our sobriety by Shaq Daddy and invite him to have a drink with us. None of us are the Cobra so that doesn't happen. So we then hit the next pub where we pony up to the bar and order brews. Things are going well until we noticed excessive PDA and a hickey making seminar in one corner. Unbeknownst to us, the women that were roaming around weren't actual women but we should have figured that out by the activities in the previous sentence. We down our beers and move the chains. Things are starting to get better so we start party hunting. We find a party that seems to be jumping so we hop the fence and get in. Next thing we know we are on the set of VH-1 getting our groove on. After getting shot down by every woman in the bar and drinking ourselves into an oblivion, we proceed back to the hotel. I wake up the next morning with my torso in my room and my legs in the hall ready to do it again.

Needless to say that none of this will ever come true but how great would that have been? And that was just the first night. I am sure that CBK would have found a way to kill my buzz from afar had we made it.