Super Bowl Sunday Happy Hour

Howdy, Tribe. Just rolled in and I've got a few things going on. Cowboy Luke and I need to de-tox from Kraft Mac and Cheese; we had a great weekend, hunkered down in zero-temperature (with the wind chill, it felt, like. . . cold?). I told him tales of the Kiowas and Comaches and the short-lived but glorious empire of the horse on the Great Plains.

Yesterday afternoon, he started crying out in the meadow behind the pole barn because the snow got in his boots and he doesn't like surprises like that. Yet he insists on wearing blue jeans instead of bib snow pants. Little mule, is what he is. For our guests later, I'm making venison chili; I'm proud of my chili, which as been described as inedible by the unenlightened - for reasons having nothing to do with the choice of meat. What can I say, I like spicy. Okay - Super Bowl menus, folks?

I didn't get a chance to read all of the Comments in the previous post, but I enjoyed the first few dozen. Thanks for those awesome anagrams for TennisWorld; one of them will be the headline for my TW column in the April issue of Tennis. Thanks also for welcoming Lanai (welcome Lanai!); y'all make this such a friendly place. And you lurkers - here's a good under-the-radar opportunity to throw up a post or two; it's Super Bowl Sunday, it's the equivalent of TW Happy Hour! Post your predictions, if  you feel like it.

Okay, Safin story. One of the tournament drivers at the Australian Open reports that this buddy of his is ferrying Safin, and they're stopped at a light. Suddenly, Safin leans over from the back seat, reaches over, and beeps the horn.

"What are you doing?" the baffled driver says, thinking that Safin is showing an un-Melbournian lack of patience.

"Nothing. That girl over there - I used to date her, that's all."

The light changes, and the driver pulls away. He comes up next to the girl and starts honking like crazy, trying to get her attention.

"What are you doing," Safin says, clearly panicked.

"Yeaa. We'll get her over here, mate!"

"What are you nuts?" Safin shoots back. "I don't actually want to talk to her. . ."

The legend, as they say, grows. . .

Enjoy the game, check in. Steggy will be rockin' the Monday Net Post tomorrow, and I'll try to get some red meat up so we can go On Topic (imagine that!)