Burnt Orange: Texas Fight

Okay, so I went to the Texas/Louisiana Monroe opener game last week. We broke the stadium record:

I am voluntarily wearing burnt orange. Take note. It might never happen again as visions of the Great Pumpkin belly dance costume are dancing in my head.

It’s different this year. I went every year with five guy friends and everyone graduated last year except me. I asked Mario (Julie’s husband) to go with me and he backed out last minute so I said, f— it, I’m going to go by myself. I looked at it like it was a sociology experiment. It will force me to talk to people I don’t know. I just prayed that I wouldn’t get stuck next to some Newman type (bad) or some Milton type (worse) or my ex boyfriend (shoot me in the face with a machine gun.) I also prayed that they wouldn’t get offended (bad) or make me have to kick their ass (worse) because I talk a lot of smack and I have a smart mouth. I prayed I wouldn’t get stuck next to some sorority girls with fake bakes and eating disorders. I said to the Lord, “Lord, I need a break. Just one. Send me some hotties. Just this once.”

For all you ass clowns that don’t believe in God, booya! He DOES exist. I asked for hotties and the good Lord provided them. He sent me Justin and Nick.

They will forever go down in infamy because they talk more smack than me (and we all know that’s saying something.) They were all up in my shit and laughing at me because I was a little on the inebriated side. It also didn’t help that this 50+ year old drunk man, who knocked over drinks and food on his way through the stands to his seat, planted himself behind us. I really thought he was going to a) hurl b) pitch forward and fall on top of me or c) all of the above. He was toooooooore up. You know that drunk that people get when they’ve been drinking ALL day and you can smell it seeping through their pores? Yeah, that was him.

He knocked over my purse (spilling out my hidden mini bottles of Absolut and Crown). He knocked me into Justin. He kept bumping into me and I could feel his hot breath on my neck. Then, he decides to sit down, when everyone else is standing, mind you, which put his face directly behind my ass and he proceeded to stare at it for half the game. I kid you not. His drunk ass son was standing next to him and was high fiving him as his dad made motions with his hands that he was slapping and grabbing my ass. Yeah….real classy, dude.

Justin and I thought he was going to throw up on us and I kept making jokes about his “daddy.” Then, after that moron left, we realized half the stench was coming from the sulfur in the cannon as they fired it off every time we scored, and not from Big Daddy, as I christened him. Oh well, he needed some blame because he was shameful. Now that we know security isn’t that tight, I will be well insulated at the next game with more liquor.

I loved it when the Band, who was playing boring songs, spelled out TEXAS on the field, but they need to take some lessons from Prairie View and learn how to become a real “Showband.”

One of the highlights of the game was finding out that OU lost to BYU. As the news spead through the stadiums, everyone was on their feet chanting, “OU sucks!” Yup, it was a good day. Plus, Nick was really cute and I managed not to maul him and make him my lust bunny, so hey, maybe I really *am* cured of my sex addiction after all…..

I know. I don’t believe it either. Somebody better warn this boy that I’m the Make Out Bandit……

State of the Union: Amused

Listening to: That Girl is a Cowboy by Garth Brooks

Edited: October 2nd, 2009