Enough Rings Already

I bet you're all relieved that I have settled on a Super Bowl Sunday menu.

Roasted chicken pieces, cut veggie tray, a cheeseball shaped like a football instead of a round ball, and chocolate sheet cake.

This is a departure from my usual menu. Usually I shape the cheese like a round ball and the cake like a football. Or at least a football field. I thought I would shake things up this year.
In other news, Bill and I disagree about The Sopranos ending. (I know, we're so timely, aren't we?) Bill insists that I am just being stubborn about this and disagreeing just to disagree. He's wrong. I really don't think that Tony died that night. He did. But not that night.

I sat in bed this morning drinking coffee petting my orange cat. And thought, oh, I guess this means I die today. Then I remembered that I don't live in HBO Land.

Apparently Bill Belichick is capable of showering, combing his hair, and wearing something other than a baggy sweatshirt that he hacked the sleeves off of with the scissors on his desk. Who knew?

Tony is a Jets fan, not a Giants fan, but he doesn't bet based on loyalty, it's about money. If I had some money? I would put it on the Giants.

I'm just sayin.'