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Yeah, couldn't have just finished the last letter. 9 Days left to finish this. It's gotta be a productive week. If for no other reason, then because it'll drive me bananas looking at an unfinished wall, as the last thing I see before I fall asleep every night.

Speaking of things I see before bed, I was looking for a movie on demand last week to put me to sleep and my interest is piqued by some tongue-in-cheek flick called "How to Be a Serial Killer." Pretty much fit the bill for what I was looking for in terms of short movie, somewhat entertaining, that I don't have to think about it.

But before I order it, I go online to watch a trailer, and it was then that I realized that I was staring at the #1 Ultimate List-Topper in "Worst Possible Things Someone Could Find in Your Google Browser."

I don't know why this is so hilarious to me. But I keep breaking into fits every time I think about it and the possibilities around someone coming over, asking to borrow my computer, and seeing this on the screen:

I'm sure this will now be the last time I'm ever allowed to use the internet at work.

In other news, the Saints beat the Colts 31-17 last night in an improbably boring Super Bowl. My sister begrudgingly came out with me to watch it, and right before we leave my apartment groans, "Oh God. Everyone's going to be talking about football. I can't do this."

The depths of her hatred for football know no bounds, as she sees it as a cruel impediment to baseball. "All I ever want to do on the Super Bowl is make cupcakes with little footballs on them. That's it." And she didn't even get to do that. But on the plus side, she did, once again, win, since every year she roots for only 1 thing:

"I'm rooting for it to be over."

When Peyton had the ball on 4th and goal, I told her that this is it. They don't score here, it's officially (well, unofficially I guess) baseball season.

She also couldn't figure out why me and my buddies were so bored with the game for about 85% of it. Mainly we whined about how this was supposed to be an offensive shit show. And while theoretically, a 16-17 game should be prime SB situations, we felt jilted.

My sister put up with it like a champ, though, even when I treated her to a classic case of "Kris inventing trivia anecdotes that should never be shared since in all likelihood they are 100% fabricated." BUT THIS TIME I WAS RIGHT. Sort of.

"You know where the Super Bowl came from?"
"Ugh, are we still talking about football? No more football."
"Some guy's daughter was playing with a toy or something. And it inspired the concept of Super Bowl."
"Are you kidding me with this? That makes no sense at all."
So there's that. And now the next task at hand is getting through the always miserable Monday after the Super Bowl.


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