The Streak Continues

42 in a row, and no end to the streak in sight. I love Navy games. Tickets are falling from the sky for all who would take them, and everyone is so outstandingly nice and respectful. Bars around town proclaimed "Welcome Navy fans!", the Navy band got as much applause as our own, and hearty congratulations on a game well played were handed out like candy. Nary a boo to be heard, not even from that really drunk guy who got thrown out in the second quarter for yelling "I'm so drunk! I'm so f*cking drunk!" to the gaggle of ushers standing next to us. Eat that, drunk guy! That's what you get for screaming "Can you...can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you...hey, can you hear me?" into your cell phone the entire first quarter.

The weekend was pretty standard, in the good way. Various alumni were in, beer was consumed, much football was watched. Kel and I put up our Christmas tree yesterday, and damn the naysayers! It was 16 dollars at Wal*Mart, and it is the most glorious spectacle of light and wonderment since the compy 386.

Now I would like to get something off my chest, and that is that there is no way in hell a Scientologist Pirate could ever hope to fight a Rastafarian Pirate and live--anyone who says otherwise should probably prepare themselves for a stern kick squa to the nook. I mean, the very idea is absurd! What's next, a talking banana? As any schoolchild knows, the only mammal that can successfully challenge a Rastafarian Pirate is the Beverly Hills Ninja, who could simply consume his opponent whole. Ironically, a Scientologist Pirate will skewer the Beverly Hills Ninja 9 times out of 10! I call it the triangle of death, and with its mention officially bring to a close the most ludicrous paragraph ever written about anything, at any time, for any reason, ever.