Super Bowl Jello


I like to pride myself on my complete ignorance  of football, but I ended up at a Super Bowl party on Sunday. A group of people watched the game, while others ignored it. When Tom Petty came on, everyone gathered near the TV and the middle-aged people began to sing along. The kids couldn’t take it, so the parents dutifully shut up.

I’m almost as not interested in Tom Petty as I am in football. Luckily, I got involved in an intense discussion about the Presidential campaign. Three brainy women agreed that Hillary was the best candidate. She knows what she’s doing and she has proved her mettle by surviving Bill’s infidelity without sacrificing her dignity.

But is her dignity actually intact? I have no idea! Is it dignified to stand by your husband when he deceives and humiliates you? I guess she could have thrown a fit in a press conference, or she could have called Monica out for a showdown or something. She could have  screwed a hunky page and told Bill, “So there, Bubba!”

The women who wanted Hillary for President were so passionate about it that I was actually swayed for several hours. They had all fought to be taken seriously in their professions, whereas I personally have only fought against gainful employment. Their achievements are amazing to me.

Just as amazing was the nine layer Jello produced by the hostess, who made it with her daughter. They noted that they sometimes make twelve layers.

Look at how fucking beautiful this Jello is! It’s a cellphone photo, so imagine what a real camera could have captured. The glory of this Jello makes me glad to have friends who can cook, friends who have careers, and Democrats to vote for who won’t let themselves be swiftboated this time around.

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