I think I write about Stella almost about as much as Cascada. Two great sources of joy in my life. Well, the reason Stella and the Giants have become relevant to one another for the first time in history is because gma landed us some Giants tix at a raffle during her annual apartment complex meeting. Hmmm, interesting choice of prize for a tower filled with old people. Throw them out in the December NY cold in a football stadium with LOTS of stairs. Not really ideal. However, quite ideal for their grandchildren. So, Jane, Courtney, Missy, and myself made the trip to Jersey to see the Giants/Eagles game. Mind you, this was the first game after the Plaxico Burress “I’m-an-idiot-and-shot-myself-in-the-foot-….-literally” scandal. Plaxico’s image was even on our dang tickets. Let’s just say the Giants hadn’t quite recovered from the loss of their wide receiver (I just used Wikipedia to figure out which position he plays, def didn’t know that haha). Basically, the Giants blew it. YOU BLEW IT.

Even though the Giants didn’t deliver, there still two highlights worth mentioning. The first would be the minimal level of destruction that occurred involving stadium food and a stranger. Of course, we ordered a shit ton of crappy food. And let me tell you, it was CRAPPY. Missy ordered nachos and barely ate the cheese it came with because it tasted quasi bitter and came in a very hard log-like form. When we were done attempting to force down said nachos, we put the basket on the floor. Unfortunately for the stranger involved, the basket was place in front of my feet. I unknowingly dipped the bottom of my FUGGs into this nasty cheese concoction and proceeded to use the seat in front of me as a foot rest. My foot repeatedly grazed the back of the man sitting in front of me. I then kicked the basket of chips which flew in the air, sticking to the cheese of the back of stranger man. The four of us spent a decent amount of time contemplating whether we should tell the guy that I had defaced his sweatshirt. The problem was, we all kept having the urge to whip the cheese off this guys back. We managed to resist. Thus, “Cheese Back” was born.

Second highlight. The half time show was an inner city youth drum line. Yes, DRUM LINE. They “broke it down” by forcing three of the boys to do this little tap dance routine in these fruity ass outfits! Not as hardcore as I expected, Nick Canon would have been embarrassed. My favie member of the troop was by far the conductor who was jumping around in a seizure-like state. At the climax of the performance, he had taken off his jacket and was viciously swirling it in the air above his head. I think he was on ecstasy.

In conclusion, thank you Stella, for this experience. Mazel tov.


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