If you’ve been existing in the world for the past month, you’ve probably noticed an epidemic that has swept the nation. It’s a mental, physical, all-consuming takeover that has overcome our men. Guys who used to buy us dinner (or at least go Dutch, damn equality), take us to movies (well, illegally download movies and watch them in bed with us), and beg us for sex are now busy, preoccupied, and uninterested.
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?
The Patriots (or whatever NFL team that has become your significant other’s new significant other) happened. Peyton Manning, a man who plays a game for a living, happened. Football fucking happened. Ladies, we tried. We gave it our best shot. We hid all of the batteries from his Xbox controllers. We put the new Madden game in “The Notebook” DVD case. We locked him out of the house. Nothing worked. And, despite all of our efforts, it’s happening. Football season (which, unfortunately, includes college, professional, Madden, and, of course, the champion of all things ridiculous, fantasy) is back. While it is a difficult time for all of us, I want you to know that you are NOT alone. These thoughts that you are having are normal, and every woman has them. Heaven help us.
- Didn’t football season just end?
- How is it socially acceptable for grown men to play “fantasy” anything?
- And I’m dumb for watching “The Bachelor”?
- I know it’s not real, but neither is your “drafted” team.
- “NO, I WILL NOT GET YOU ANOTHER BEER.”
- Just because you got a touchdown in a virtual game, it doesn’t mean you’ve accomplished anything today.
- If I hear the “ping” of the Xbox one more time…
- Yeah, sitting here watching you and your roommate play seven hours of Madden was exactly what I had in mind for date night.
- “Sorry baby, I have next pick on my fantasy draft” is not an acceptable excuse for being on your phone the whole time at dinner.
- Today I went to the gym, went to class, went to work, made dinner, crafted, and watched “Gossip Girl.” You have yet to move from the couch.
- Sure, I’ll watch the game with you, but I’ll be mentally undressing the hottest players. You have only yourself to blame.
- What do I say to you when your team loses?
- I know I shouldn’t say “it’s just a game,” but…
- IT’S JUST A GAME.
- Going to a restaurant and facing the television (after insisting they change the channel so you can watch your team play) is a sure way to get the silent treatment.
- Not that you would notice.
- Actually, you’d probably be happier that I’m NOT talking, so you can watch the game.
- Asshole.
- It’s not YOUR team.
- Five minutes left in the game is a lie. It’s actually 45 minutes of fiery, agonizing hell.
- I get an actual rush when my ex’s team loses.
- #Karma.
- I don’t know if your team will score a field goal, a touchdown, a basket, or whatever. Stop asking me.
- Woo. Go team go. Yeah. Awesome. Yay. Cool. Whatever.
- No, I won’t rub your penis for good luck, perv.
- “So are you coming to bed, or will you be up until 4 a.m. perfecting your fantasy team again?”
- Get used to “that” look, as seen on Dave Franco’s girlfriend’s face (lucky bitch) in this commercial when you say, “just one more game of Madden.”
- Even though it’s a sport, spending all of your free time with it kind of feels like cheating.
- FOOTBALL DOESN’T HAVE A VAGINA, OKAY?
- Whatever. Here’s to girls’ nights, movie marathons of romantic comedies, and drinking more free beer than we ever thought possible to cope with the fact that this is what our lives will be for the next four months.
- Happy fucking football season.