August 11, 2002

Well, I spent a good deal of the evening Saturday at what is arguably the happiest place on earth, watching a full panoply of pre-season football and the like. Since Joxer's is unofficially a "R******" bar, the place filled up with transplants from the Virginia/Maryland/DC area, all of whom were disappointed big-time when the management couldn't pull down the game from their satellite. With two exceptions, they all left by 6:00 p.m. What a vile specimen of rodent excrement is the Washington football fan. They root for a team whose nickname is a racist obscenity, they never show up at any other time except when their team is playing, they sing that idiotic (albeit catchy) fight song, and then leave without paying their bar tabs. Simply sharing a sports pub with them over the years has practically turned me into a hard-core fan of "America's Team", which is an almost unthinkable turn of events in my life, considering how I grew up believing that Roger Staubach was the anti-christ, and that Tom Landry was the person about whom Lucas based the evil emporer from the Star Wars movies.

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