Superbowl Sunday

I opted out of the Superbowl party. I knew I'd talk a lot and get laryngitis and be vocally shot all week. Besides, I didn't want to make deviled eggs.
I still do not know what teams played or who won. That suits me fine.
Now I can legitimately claim I did not see even one minute of football this season. My record remains pristine.
It's Stock Show and Rodeo Week in San Antonio, so of course it's cold and drizzly outside.
I like the stock show portion of the event, but the rodeo itself seems a little barbaric. The stock show features on display giant cows with asses three feet wide that are amazing to see up close.
They also have baby pigs, ducks, chicks, lambs, goats and bunnies. That's the best part of the show, the babies. Hint: never try to pick up a baby pig, they have internal alarms.
The carnival midway used to feature freak shows when I was a kid.
They lined up several trailers, each containing some poor soul who made a living being gawked at.
Back then I saw the 900-pound man (he was drinking a Tab!) and Ronnie and Donnie the Siamese twins. They wore black horned rimmed glasses, red crewcuts, plaid Bermuda shorts and cowboy boots. Ronnie, or maybe it was Donnie, kept picking his nose. We made brief eye contact and I had to rush out of there, it was too much.
I don't think I could handle a freak show as an adult. I've gotten too Oprah for that kind of thing.