It’s Monday morning and what the fuck just happened!? Last night I had the opportunity to win roughly $300 with a Falcons Super Bowl Championship which was looking very promising at halftime. With the score 28-3 I kicked back and sipped on Grey Goose like a big shot high roller and then it happened… The hero, the king, the chosen one, THE Tom Brady destroyed my soul just as I suspected he would.
On January 23rd I wrote in reference to the big game “And sure the Falcons looked great, but my bet hinges on Tom Brady losing, which seems impossible at this point.” And the ironic part is that a Brady win was the only thing that looked impossible in the 3rd quarter.
Unfortunately part of me feels like I choked just as hard as the Falcons. I let my guard down against the greatest QB of all-time (No debate anymore). I became too comfortable for the situation. Hell, from halftime through the 3rd quarter all I did was smash chicken wings, laugh, eat, and shoot Uncle Stink in the ass with a high powered airsoft machine gun. (Video to come later. I broke skin and his ass cheeks were bleeding) In short, I got sloppy and I paid the price. Like Tommy Devito or Joffrey I became cocky.
On top of that, around 3:30 am I threw up like a little bitch. My weak ass stomach couldn’t even handle the Super Bowl spread. So while on my knees, with my face submerged below the toilet bowl line I saw the reflection of a loser. My little beady bloodshot eyes stared back at me with sadness and shame. Filled with pity in that moment I thought… *Tom Brady wouldn’t be throwing up like this. He would have a stomach of solid steel*
Immediately after, I blew chunks and my night ended… Tom Brady still on top.