When it comes to football season, there are two types of broads out there. Those who don’t care about football and those who pretend to care about football. Both types seek to annoy the fuck out of you when the games are on.
First up, the women who don’t give a fuck about football. It’s natural for a woman to not care about sports because sports are the fucking shit and women only like stupid crap: cooking, parenting and tampons. How do I know this? I saw Pinterest one time.
Here is a collage of some stock photos of men (outies) attempting to watch a game with women (innies). Let’s see if we can find out what’s wrong with these pics…
If you guessed “The women’s mouths are closed” you win. If any of these photos were real, they would depict an open female facehole spewing forth foul bitching in the form of words like “this is boring.” or “how many games are there today?” or “I thought you said we were gonna doooo something together.”
Side note: if you guessed “these broads aren’t in the kitchen” you are also correct.
Watching whatever fucking game that is on right now (as well as all of those to follow) is exactly what we want to do. Any deviation from this makes us miserable. Women want us to be miserable with them because misery loves men not enjoying themselves.
Statistically speaking, 50% of all women fall into this first category. They’re commonly known as “divorcees.”
The other half of women realize that watching football is the key to not ending up a barren spinster. They just don’t fucking know why. So we deal with their insightful game analysis of “get him!” and “running it up the middle never works!” for the good of our (hopefully male) progeny. Inquiries of “will they play in the rain?” or “when does the night game start?” are Sunday afternoon staples. But that shit’s minor. Come playoff time, there’s three words that could ruin our fucking season:
Somehow, even when women aren’t around, they still find ways to fuck up our football. It’s Monday night and the CuntCast DVR informs you it will switch channels because Gossip Girl and Real Housewives are recording at the same fucking time. You become furious, and menstruate. Fuck it, you’ll just watch in the bedroom, though it’s impossible to hear the commentary over the battle-axe’s droning about wanting to sleep.
Heaven forbid you make the ultimate fuck up of taking a woman to a football game. All of the above applies, except now she’s cold.
Well, you know that old saying: “If you can’t stand the cold, get the fuck back in the kitchen.”