Yes it’s that time of year again. The incessant squabbling, the unprecendented media coverage of everything but nothing at the same time, the frustration of two sides unable to reach a mutually beneficially solution boiling over to the American people like an unstoppable volcano heading for a petting zoo filled with llama-riding babies. So much senseless destruction.
Yes folks, the NFL lock out was quite a show (did you really think I was going to talk about the debt ceiling? Nerds). But the worst is behind us now, and so begins the brainless trash talk that is the building block of male social interaction. With the season set in stone we can now begin to plan our strategies, form super pacts with our friends, and belittle our foes by telling them they have small “pigs-in-blankets”. Yes it’s the exact sort of quick-talkin, dick slinging, slugfest that makes the religious tremble and the evolutionists shake their heads (literally, if you catch my drift).
In order to pay homage to this season I must do so in true kluckit fashion… by recounting the best football food from last season. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you… the Snackadium!
Supremely crafted with the hands of Mike Wallace and the vision of Aaron Rodgers, this delicious treat was the main event of last year’s superbowl party, outshadowing both Christina Aguilara’s national anthem miscue and South American Sports News reporter Ines Sainz’ Super Bowl Media Day outfit.
I'm not sure she even knows how to find the 50 yard line, but dress her like that and put her on a football field and it somehow looks like she belongs
Built in an apartment on the top floor of a 14 story apartment building in downtown Los Angeles, this astro-guacamole field was touched up with sour cream field markers and nacho cheese/black bean end-zones in preparation for the meeting of the top two National Foodball League contenders, the Pittsburg Cornstealers and the Green Bay Packdogs. Each team’s end-zone was intricately designed with guacamole/blocks of American cheese to make sure these eyeless freaks of food-nature could find their way into their end-zones and then into my belly.
The rice-crispy treat structure was filled to its 60,000 calorie capacity (rivaled only by the 55,000 calorie capacity of the 8-layer deep Hollywood Bowl) with a variety of fans and flavors. In preparation for the epicness that was about to take place on the field, the goalposts were fortified with Slim Jims and grease in order to keep the rowdy flaming hot Cheetos from bringing down the posts after a home-team win. Despite a small pre-game disturbance from the Cheetos where they tried to set a pretzel, and my mouth, on fire, the crowd was fairly tame. The Chex Mix spent most of their time hiding their most delicious fans, the peanuts, and the tortilla chips broke down into a soccer game in the third quarter using a dried-out lime.
The game itself was a random mix of crunchy tackles and tasty touchdowns with the emphasis on field-positioning leading to an epic kicker battle between Maizen Crosby and Sean Sooooiieesham. Charlie Peppa, a safety for the Packdogs, led both teams in the tackling and guacamole per dip categories and forced Ben Chablisburger into throwing two interceptions while targeting Heinze Ward and Mike Cornwallace, after which he was forced to lick the sour cream off the 50 centimeter line as punishment.
The play of the game came on a three-layer dip surprise play action pass from Aaron Dog’ers, who looked reminiscent of the former Packdog great Brett Chevre, to Orange Julius Jones who managed to beat Soy Polamalu, a lady-fan favorite, to the outside for an untouched nosedive into the black bean dip end-zone followed by a crowd-pleasing touchdown dance inside my mouth.
The whole game was brought together with a half-time performance from the Black Eyed Beans who sang their top hits “I Gotta Feelin’”, an ode to the role they played in the great Chili disturbance of my bowls in ’93, and “Don’t Phunk With my Heart”, the political song protesting the Cholesterol invasion of 2005 that caused coronary slowness (yes that’s a medical term) in males aged “I double down on double-downs” to “Big Macs make daddy happy”.
With all said and done the players voiced their eagerness to begin the next season. Unfortunately, they, along with the other players of the National Foodball League, were all eaten as snacks during the NFL lockout discussions. Where the sport will head from here is anyone’s guess but we wait with baited, and hungry, breath until another sort of food creation sets the stage for a greater battle of the foods.
Like they say in the business, “build it, and it will be eaten.”
Stay hungry my friends.
