No, I STILL won't attend your Super Bowl Party

This is a repost, but my feelings have not changed.

I’ve attended many Super Bowl parties in my lifetime. And I never will again.

Listen folks, if your television is less than 27”, you should not be throwing a party. If you only own four chairs, you should not be throwing a party. If you realize at kick-off time that you’re out of napkins and paper towels, then you should not be throwing a party. And while you’re at it, clean the hair and dried toothpaste out of your bathroom sink – you have guests over.

Why the sourpuss? The year was 2008. The venue: a small loft in North Hollywood, no chairs. We stood for most of the game. I knew I was in for trouble when some douche wearing a spiked collar and gelled hair arrived toting a guitar and electric amp. “Where do I plug in?” he asked.

The hosts didn’t want to bother with snacks, so they asked everyone to bring something potluck style. Most millennials interpret “potluck” to mean “bring the $1.99 plastic clamshell of chocolate chip cookies from Ralph’s”. So that’s what there was to eat – twelve dozen generic brand chocolate chip cookies, room-temperature lite beer, and the casserole of macaroni and cheese I brought (“Oh! We don’t have any plates or forks! I’ll run the dishwasher!”)

Then came the defining play of the game: faced with third down and five yards to go from his own 44-yard line with 1:15 remaining, Giants quarterback Eli Manning avoided what looked like a sack, completed a 32-yard pass to wide receiver David Tyree, who made a leaping catch by pinning the ball on his helmet, which put them at New England's 24-yard-line. Four plays later, New York wide receiver Plaxico Burress caught the winning touchdown with 0:35 left.

Yeah, I never saw that play because two minutes before the game ended, some whiner got her way and commandeered the TV so she could play Guitar Hero.

I’m DONE with Super Bowl parties.

I will be at home on Sunday, watching the big game on my 46” flat panel with 5.1 surround sound, TiVo remote in hand, my own personal pizza with the toppings I choose, a six-pack of Guinness with a liter of Belgian ale on stand-by, and my stuffed animals Polly Precious Pants and Miss Precious Perfect cuddling next to me on the sofa. And I will enjoy the hell out of it.