To The Evil Belong The Spoils

HIM: Hi honey I’m home.
ME: (I’m on the phone with my friend whose a Stanford Alum… doing what old Michigan and Stanford Alums do best… successfully drilling for nerves) “We scored 9 Touchdowns” “Isn’t U-Mass a D-3 school?” “Cal is going to win the Pac 10” “Ohio State looked good today” (We hang up)
HIM: Who was that?
ME: Dan Pyne… (the moment I’ve been waiting for is almost here…) We were talking about the Stanford – USC game… I was harassing him…
HIM: (typical arrogant USC alum) How bad did we beat them? I’ve been waiting for this day for a year.
ME: (The Moment has arrived!) It was a very exciting game.
HIM: Really? I didn’t even think it would be close. (clueless… also a typical USC alum trait)
ME: Well in the 4th Quarter… USC managed to snatch defeat out of the jaws of victory.
HIM: (STUNNED and silent…the last time I saw a comparable look on his face was the day Brooke showed up and he learned he had a 17 year old son that he sired at a USC Frat Reunion Party)
ME: How was your day?
HIM: I need a beer. Fucking Stanford. You know Romney went to school there.
ME: You know Michigan won 63 to 13.
HIM: And Ann Coulter went to Michigan.
ME: Yup, embarrassing for Stanford and Michigan but neither Romney or Coulter played football and they went there awhile ago… this game was today…
HIM: So they’re still alums…. I’m going to get some beer.
ME: We all have skeletons in our closets. (thinking: speaking of which, it’s time to call hubby’s baby’s mamma… another proud USC alum… he leaves… I blow up that skinny white bitch’s digits)
ME: Hi Brooke.
HER: Hello (sounds as dry as her thin white lips)
ME: How are you doing?
HER: You know I’m upset… let’s just cut to the chase. You called up to gloat over our loss.
ME: Are you crying.
ME: Awww don’t cry. There’s always next year… of course Stanford’s Freshman QB will be a sophomore, and your QB will be in the NFL… I mean presuming his season picks up.
HER: Go ahead and enjoy this, you colossal ass.
ME: Why would you think I’m enjoying this?
HER: Because you’re classless.
ME: Brooke, didn’t they teach you at USC that only the nouveaux riche, lower and middle classes are concerned with class. Oh I guess not… that would have been something you would have learned had you gotten into Stanford.
HER: How’d you know I didn’t get into Stanford?
ME: You got pregnant by a drunk gay guy at a Frat party… just a hunch. By the way honey, did you know Stanford offered me an academic scholarship out of high school,.
HER: I wouldn’t flatter myself if I were you. It was the post-riot era. I’m sure it was one of those please don’t burn down my school angry negro scholarships.
ME: No… i think it was more about scoring in the upper 2 percentile on the National Merit Scholarship Qualifying Test.
HER: Whatever. I’m late for yoga.
ME: Yoga? Really? You STILL haven’t learned being able to put yourself in positions that would make Gumby scream only leads to trouble.
HER: Are we through?
ME: You were through before we met… but yes my work is done here…

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