#ricoSacto

Sunday, February 11, 2024

SUPERBOWL SUNDAY #LVIII #58 #MakinBelieveLiesAreTheTruth #BetMe #LetUSroll #BADbrim #HipHats #CapsNoPops #KnowYouAreALoser

VOLUME OF A PROLATE SPHEROID IS:
 ( loser ) 
+y2 / a2
Even on super Sunday in the springtime, you can smell the pigskin bleedin' in ice turf beneath
I know what you know, it’s a finite game with an end in sight, no allowance for a sudden death
Touchdown after touchdown, safety after safety, kickoff after extra points ad infinitum, it’s a go
With no time left on the game clock, it’s less than a second left & the score is tied zero to zero.

Six for the touchdown, three for the field goal, two for the safety & one for the point after TD
Hips get hit from the front, back & sides, above a pile & deep below the late hits ref’s whistle us
Toots out of the air squeezed through a tiny whirlwind emptiness, the phase of a blown penalty
High or low hits count on the quarterback and the penalty to a tackler is five, ten or fifty minus.

Regular bowl games are one hundred yards of theoretical, prolate spheroids’ critical race theory
Kick the ball, throw the ball, hand-off the ball, run with and fumble the ball, it’s two for a safety
Mothers died bearing the boys who played games, some lived & got a new house on the blocks
Either way, we get one super Sunday every year, today’s the day, it’s on from zero to sixty rocks.

You had what it took to get to the money game, high school, through college & infinite practice
Professional because paid with gold and a plethora of rewards for beating the opponent’s dice
It’s a roller-coaster from September to January & then it’s on, the big Super game of man-kinder
Points more than the other gets a double ‘U’ (W) less points gives you the honor, you’re a Loser.

Find out the secret and then forget about the whole thing, as if you’ve begun again from scratch
Nobody knows you or cares about you, you’re an orphan without siblings, offspring or any mate
You’ll go home to the heavens in a metal-wooden box, just a porcelain urn, Form of God’s farce
Bottom’s up online, you’re gone & it’s like it was before conception, Dark & deep up one’s arse.
by
r j j stephan, i

c. Dimanche, February 11th, 2024 Anno Domini @ 333 PMPST #SuperBowl2024
{ Blown out of my keister this am on #SuperbowlSunday jammin’ to surprises at https://youtu.be/D2E7ahH8zts?si=SJyq8P9NgUwTACci }

F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?

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