We shall lose magnificently in the home of the Dirty Bird Falcons this lovely Sunday afternoon. I begin this post knowing that we have the first scoring touchdown but its only the first one its the last that matters. The New Orleans Saints have a really bad habit of starting off strong and then gradually whittling themselves down to mediocrity. But I shall spectate this sport nonetheless as the Satellite has ample supply of pale ale and pizza to stomach the loss. I'm also in the middle of a laundry drying cycle,which distracts me as I have to drive through the throngs of wild babymomma kids running rampant in my apt's parking lot as mommy wont let them back in the house while babydaddy is stopping in to use the TV to host his football party. C'est La Vie',life in the USA. Besides,the Saints cant possibly win in Atlanta,lame duck Vick or not. For if they won that would entail me driving downtown to the Georgia Dome after painting myself Black and Gold, and doing the Running Man naked in the parking lot until stadium security comes to haul me off. Now try to get THAT image out of your fragile little mind anytime soon,sunshine. Heh. Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuueeeecccceeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!