The Redneck Riviera

I'm always late to the party, and not fashionably late either. I didn't have a date till I was about 20. I didn't get my ear pieced till I was out of college, and working on Wall Street. And yesterday was the first time I ever did the whole face-painting thing. I didn't plan on it - my buddy was drunk and said he'd pay. That's' all I needed...Here's another pic of me in my head-painted glory.

By the way, it was about 150 degrees yesterday, and due to the paint, I couldn't wipe my head. The sweat just kept dripping into my eyes. By the end of the day, my eyes were so bloodshot, I looked like a zombie.

As my friend Q noted, it doesn't matter where you tailgate, New Jersey, Wisconsin, or Florida, there all look the same. Using a phrase from the movie Cry Baby, I described it as The Redneck Riviera...

Not to say my friends are idiots, but when cleaning up, they put the still-hot coals from the bbq into our garbage bag and then tried to walk it over to the garbage...not surprisingly, this is what resulted...

The game? Oh, it sucked...Though the stadium was as loud as I'd ever heard it at the start of the game, by the middle of the second quarter, when it was apparent these were the "same ol' Jets," it got quiet and really never got loud again.

Ack...

Rock On,

Aitch