PanaMax Bowl: The Conclusion

It reeks of death in this house, and there is a thick fog of utter heartbreak lingering about.

Yes, the Seahawks annihilated the Broncos. Chewed them up and spit them out. Whooped dat ass. Bent them over. This morning, I should have sprang out of bed, threw on a flannel, and blasted Pearl Jam while drinking a Starbucks as I read a Kurt Cobain biography that I bought on Amazon, then applied for a job at Boeing. But I can’t because – this is the weird part – I’m really, really sad. The Greek is sad. Even the cats are sad (I mean, I think they are. They are just laying around sleeping). Someone had to lose this game, and I guess part of me had hoped it would be us because I can’t bear to see him this way.

WTF? Have I gone soft? Is there no fight left in me? Am I no longer a competitor? Or is it possible that I love this man so much that it breaks my heart to see him torn to pieces by the soft play of his beloved Broncos?

Snap out of it, Maxwell! THE SEAHAWKS WON THE SUPER BOWL. So, why am I on the verge of tears? I feel like the son at the end of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road: Happy to be alive, but still living in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

But I must forge on. I will not gloat. I will take out the trash for as long as he asks me to. I will let him eat gluten and not assault him with a look of disappointment. And I’ll watch The Adventures of Ford Fairlane as many times as he wants.

For this is love, and it’s more important than football.

But, shit, we won the Super Bowl 🙂

 

 

 

 

PanaMax Bowl part 4

While the Greek was on his computer, I snuck my Seahawks blanket onto the bed – and the kitties LOVED it! They couldn’t get enough, that is, until a certain Broncos fan entered the scene…

The kitties were right to flee. It’s scary to see that orange and blue snuggie barreling toward you as the jackass inside of it screams like a retarded Jack Nicholson from The Shining.

PanaMax Bowl part 3

My Denver Bronco-loving fiance thinks he’s so clever by “hacking” my blog and spewing off NFL lore as if it were his job, well, I haven’t been called “crazy” by at least six ex-boyfriends for nothing.

The Greek has been asking me to clean the bathroom for days now. So I did….

 

Don’t think you can drape my children (by ‘children’ I mean cats) in orange and blue and not feel the wrath.

Go Seahawks!

 

 

PanaMax Bowl part 2

Sometimes Broncos fans don’t know when to stop partying so they go on benders for two days and have to take a nap in the middle of the day like a senior citizen.

This Broncos fan has been “Seahawked.”

Muah.

 

 

PanaMax Bowl part 1

As most of you know, I, KMax the Cat, am a diehard Seahawks fan; and my fiance, The Greek, is a diehard Broncos fan. Yesterday, both of our dreams came true: We are both going to the Superbowl.

A house divided? Why, yes.

I think Shakespeare put it best:

Two households, both alike in dignity (to be debated),
In fair Verona (LA), where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny (former AFC West rivals),
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean (Richard Sherman doesn’t do civil).
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes (Colorado and Washington, whose loins hath produced awesome football AND legalized marijuana. Coincidence? I think not!)
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life (A bit drastic, I know);
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents’ strife (really, suicide would settle nothing; The Cats and The Greeks would still cheer for the Hawks and Donkies, respectively, every Sunday, even after we were six feet deep. Such is the power of the gridiron).
The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love, (Death-Mark’d sounds like a Soundgarden tribute band. Point Seattle.)
And the continuance of their parents’ rage (I imagine this is how our cats feel),
Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours’ (or two weeks) traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend (SuperBowl XLVII).

Fourteen days from now, we fight. Until then, we live together in peace.

sort of….

Follow our countdown to the PanaMax Bowl 2014 and see who will survive. Will our love last? Will blood be shed? Will a cat be sacrificed?