Friday, February 05, 2010
Only time will tell
If Ol' Strange was an amazing profit of Nostradamus proportions, or simply trying to score some sex.
Back in September of 09, after handing Buffalo a resounding defeat at that piece of shit they call Ralph Wilson Stadium, GIGC and I ventured around back of the bleak structure to wait with family and friends for the New Orleans Saints players to exit the locker room.
Enter Darren Sharper, Will Smith, and Johnathon Vilma (I think), for a meet and greet with all those waiting.
After being snubbed for an autograph earlier by Tracy Porter who did all but masturbate on the twenty yard line in his post game victory celebration, GIGC's expectations of successfully landing the John Hancock of one of her heroes wasn't particularly high.
Enter Marcus Colston- all 19' 8" of him to tower over us all.
GIGC squealed with delight, "Marcus! Marcus! Over here Marcus!"
Much to our surprise Marcus actually came over to us, his tall behemoth frame eclipsing the moon.
"Would you sign my jersey?" GIGC said as she handed him her Sharpie.
"OK," he said. "Where would you like it?"
GIGC pushed out her ta-tas barely contained within the stretched fabric of her Drew Brees uniform. "Oh anywhere," she said.
Marcus's eyes switched to me as I grinned widely and decided her shoulder was a safer bet.
"Do you have another Sharpie? This one isn't working," he said.
It was true. His scribble was nowhere to be seen. Sadly GIGC bowed her head and said, "no, but thanks anyway."
Marcus said, "sorry" and sauntered back to another group of people.
GIGC was inconsolable.
"Well why didn't you just get a picture with him?" I said wiggling the digital camera at her.
She was off like a perfect spiral into the end zone. "Marcus! Marcus! Can I get a picture with you?"
"OK," he said and lowered his frame so I didn't have to run across the parking lot to get them both in the picture.
GIGC was happy thanking him repeatedly and how it was great to meet a future hall of famer. I kept thinking, man am I ever going to get some great sex out of this.
I felt I too should thank this elite member of the football gods, but all that came out was, "Good luck in the Super Bowl."
So, I ask you, did I say that to ice the sexual cake, or do I have extraordinary sensitivity to nonphysical or supernatural forces?
GIGC has already paid up on her side, now it's time for the Saints and Marcus Colston to make me look like a psychic genius.