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Entries in Denver Broncos (4)


So they are calling it a rematch

So they are calling it a rematch.

Remember the last Super Bowl?  It was not pretty. Broncos’ fans all over the nation have simply been trying to forget it and move on to this new season.

Ah, but the NFL gods and all those pesky Seahawk fans will not stop talking about that bloody massacre.  It was one of the Broncos’ darkest days.

So shut the fuck up, already, and let’s play some football! 

No more talking about a rematch.  Today’s game is not a rematch. Players have been traded and the teams are not last year’s teams, for crying out loud. Some of those reporters sitting up in that observation booth, wherever it is, take every opportunity to dish doubt and ugliness about my precious Broncos. I think they hide their location to keep rabid Broncos’ fans from going all The Walking Dead on their asses.

Ah, if only I had a cross bow and their GPS.  Just sayin..

Anyhow, I’m over it.

It’s less than an hour before the game.  I just need to don my Broncos jersey, orange comfy socks, dangly earrings, and hat. Then I need to hang my Broncos flag and dust off my John Elway bobble-head doll and rub his tummy for luck.

For luck, I swear! Minds out of the gutter please. I’m not that kind of kinky.

After morphing my home into a Broncos’ shrine, I will order up some food. Not cooking today. It could be a real screamer of a game, and I need to preserve my energy. I’m thinking Sweet and Sour Chicken, some fried rice and egg roll.  Okay, it may not be your normal football cuisine, but I haven’t been normal for decades, so deal with it.  A true fan understands these things.

However.  I feel like I am forgetting something.

Oh wait, the cheerleaders! We cannot forget the Broncos’ Cheerleaders!  Here’s a photo, lest you’ve forgotten about how vital they are to the whole Broncos’ experience. 

You’re welcome.

Three thoughts to leave you with:

  • The Broncos will show up. Unlike last year’s Super Bowl.
  • The Broncos will not be intimidated by the noise of thousands of Seattle Seahawks screaming, “Go Hawks!”  Real original, Seattle. How much are you paying your marketing team to come up with that one?
  • The Broncos will win or lose.   I will have a more definitive answer after the game.  And if I happen to doze off during the game and miss the final score, I am quite sure my dear friend and Hawks fan, Tracy, will be more than happy to enlighten me.

Okay three more things:

In the words of the lovely April, a new Broncos’ fan, “Let’s do the damn thang!”

My cute little sister would say, “Let’s get ‘er done!”

My partner would probably say, as she awakens from her nap during the first quarter of the game, “Is it over yet? Can we rent a movie now?”

I concur on all of the above.  I might add, “I only got 2.5 glasses of wine from that bottle?  WTF?”

Okay enough of this silliness.  Peyton Manning, would just hunker down and shout, “Omaha!”


Game On!!!


**Images from Google Images



Nachos, fluffy orange socks, and Omaha

If you are lucky enough to have your team in the conference playoffs this coming weekend, you are probably going through your own special rituals to prepare for the game.  You might be hanging the team flag or drawing a giant helmet on your driveway with chalk, or painting your children and/or the dog in the team colors. You are most likely planning a special menu for the occasion.  Your nachos are, after all, the best damned nachos ever made, and without them, it just wouldn’t be the playoffs.

You are indeed a fan. You have been loyal to your team for decades and you are praying for a win.  It could happen if you wear your special team jersey, and you sit in just the right spot, drinking out of the same glass as you have for every game this season.  It could happen if you chest-butt your buddy every time your team scores a field goal, and lead the conga-line around the living room after every touchdown.

It could happen.

This could be the year.  This could be your year.

After all, don’t you deserve it?  Haven’t you bled your team colors over the years?  Haven’t you been a fan through thick and thin?   Haven’t you tried really hard not to look at the cheerleaders and keep your eyes on the game?  Haven’t you kept the economy going with all that beer you’ve bought, not to mention your collection of team paraphernalia?  Think about it.  You have invested just as much, if not more time and sweat in your team as any of the players or coaches.

They owe you.  They owe you a win.

Yes, that’s how I feel, too. 

I have shopped for the ingredients for my amazing nachos. I have washed my lucky Denver Broncos t-shirt and my fluffy orange Denver Broncos socks.  The team flag is hung.  I don’t have a driveway, but my John Elway bobble-head doll is dusted and positioned strategically at a 30 degree angle to the television, which puts it at optimum viewing level from my easy chair. I don’t have a dog, but I haven’t ruled out the possibility of borrowing the neighbor’s Chihuahua and painting the little critter blue and orange.   

I have done my part. I am ready for the game.

So, Peyton Manning, it is time to do your part.  Whatever the fuck OMAHA means, scream it all you need to.  I don’t care as long as it leads to a win.   I’ll be screaming OMAHA right along with you, I promise.  Even if I have no idea why you scream OMAHA and it seems stupid to me.  I’ll scream it. 

You can count on me, Peyton. I’m right there with you. OMAHA! OMAHA! OMAHA!

Let’s do this.

And then let’s fire the grill up, shall we?  I suddenly have a craving for a steak.




Autumn brings out my crazy


I haven’t blogged in quite awhile. I have no excuse. Unless you call pure laziness an excuse.  However, I have been busy.  I have been watching television. After all, the new fall season has arrived. That means new episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, Nashville, Scandal, Parenthood, The Middle, Modern Family, Two Broke Girls, Castle, and Hawaii 5-0. 

However, there is one thing about the fall that totally lifts me up and makes me feel alive again. Denver Broncos Football.  I am a die-hard Denver Broncos fan, so there are certain rituals that command my attention this time of year.


Rituals such as:

  • The hanging of the Broncos flag.
  • The prominent displaying of my John Elway bobble-head doll.
  • The drooling over the cheerleaders.
  • The wearing of the lucky Broncos t-shirt.
  • The concocting of the wickedly potent beverage, which may or may not be legal in all 50 states.
  • The preparation of the much anticipated nachos. In my official Denver Broncos chip bowl. Yes I have a chip bowl just for Denver Broncos games. Don't judge. You're lucky I don’t list the Broncos paraphernalia that’s in my bedroom.

What? Oh yes I did!!

Tradition must be upheld, people!   Do you honestly believe Peyton Manning would be nearly as awesome if I didn’t arrive at the game (in front of my TV) wearing appropriate celebratory attire and having performed the vital fanatical rituals? 

I think not.

There are also important rituals that must be performed during the games, such as:

  • Throwing my arms in the air to mimic the “uprights” sign after every Broncos touchdown or field goal.
  • Screaming at the TV which play should be next, and offering the appropriate profanity when my play is not chosen.  The nerve!
  • Waking my partner with “Babe did you see that? OMG!”  knowing full-well she is sleeping in her easy chair beside me, and could care less whether they do a quarterback sneak or one of their famous reverse plays. 
  • Trying to hold my pee until a commercial because I just cannot miss a single play.  This is not an easy task for anyone in my age demographic.  It’s a sacrifice made by anyone who is a true fan.


In order to keep Peyton and the Broncos on the right track, and so as not to disappoint the multitudes, I do my part to keep the Denver Broncos on their game and kicking ass.  This last game against the Colts notwithstanding, my record speaks for itself. The Broncos really should be paying me royalties.  It’s a good thing I’m a charitable kinda girl.

Just doing my part for the love of the game. No apologies. No regrets.

At least not until the playoffs…

Then I turn from a harmless, slightly crazed Broncos fan to a scary gambler at the nearest Sports Book.

Shit just got Real, Yo.


*Some images from Google images


Monday Listicles - Crushed


Hello Monday people! I'm linking up with the lovely Stasha over at The Good Life for Monday Listicles. 

When I saw the choices for Listicles this week, I honed right in on doing a list of crushes. My life has evolved around crushes. It’s sad, really. I’ve crushed on movie and TV stars, rock stars, and the boy next door.  I’ve crushed on football players, English professors, doctors, and the girl next door. I even had a pretty serious crush on the Double Double Cheeseburger from In-N-Out Burger.  I’m serious. We met briefly. I smelled her hypnotic aroma and the rest is history.

Having a crush is much like love.  The heart wants, and therefore crushes on, what it wants.  It’s bigger than all of us, so if we’re smart, we just relax and enjoy the fantasies.  Nothing wrong with that, right?

Crushes in my childhood days consisted mostly of teeny-bopper stars found on TV or in Tiger Beat Magazine.  Anyone remember Tiger Beat?  Or am I the only one approaching fossil status?

When I was twelve years old, I had a crush on Davy Jones of the Monkees (on the left).  He was short and British and cute as a button.  As he grew older, he still looked the same...never aged much. Must have been something in those tea and crumpets!


My heart also thumped loudly back in the late 60s for a very handsome Indian boy on an adventure TV show called Maya.  Sajid Khan got me all kinds of wiggly and excited.There were no boys in my neighborhood that pretty.  Not even close.  My diary was full of details as to how I planned on running away to India to be with this boy.  

In high school, I had my first “academia” crush.  It was for my English teacher, Miss Dennis. She was in her early twenties and gorgeous. She wore mini-skirts and knee-high boots in high fashion.  She looked the way I wanted to look.  But most of all, she was kind to me. And I was teenage smitten.  Sorry, no picture. Trust me, though. She was a babe.

Fast-forward a few years and my crush landed on everyone else’s crush at the time…Farrah Fawcett.  I even had a poster in my office.  She had great hair.  She even had her own shampoo and conditioner line, and I bought it religiously.  I never did master that flip style though.  Hair envy or crush?  You decide.

I also crushed on Tom Selleck when he starred in Magnum P.I.  He was handsome back then!  We lived in Hawaii during that time and used to drive to the airport just to see if we could spot his helicopter.  I may or may not have screamed my undying love from the fence.  And my husband may or may not have begged me to get back in the damned car or he was going to leave without me.

I’m grouping my sexual fantasy crushes altogether.  Mainly because they all look so good together. Don’t you agree?  It just makes me smile. There’s Jennifer Lopez. But you already knew about her. There’s George Clooney.  But you already knew about him. There’s Queen Latifah.  Yes.  She does it for me.  Don’t judge. I like her smile and her size. An abundance of both.  And finally, there’s Josh Holloway.  Remember him from Lost?  He is from Georgia. I am from Georgia.  Boys DID NOT look like Josh when I was growing up in Georgia.  And once I was grown, men didn’t look like that either. Josh is a freak. A gorgeous Georgia freak of nature.  Ok I’ll shut up now.




Is it getting hot in here?

My last crush is twofold. The past.  And the hopeful future. 

Let me explain.

John Elway.  I crushed on him throughout his career as a Denver Bronco, and mourned when he retired.  Since then, I have suffered through some pretty SUCKY quarterbacks Tim Tebow, and I have wished John was back, saving the day. 


Ah, but it was not to be.




Finally, though, the skies opened up and the waters parted, and the Broncos nation received Peyton Manning.  Quarterback. Extraordinaire. Handsome. Capable. Our saving grace. Our new hero.

All. Hail. Peyton Manning!

Play your cards…er, I mean your football right, Mr. Manning, and you might just be my

Next Big Crush!




*Images from Google Images