Dear Seattle,
The Party Crasher Electronic Mailbox (partycrasher@thestranger.com) contains no invitations to a Super Bowl Party. How can this be? Are there no houses opening their doors to guests to celebrate the balletic, sweaty crush of football players’ bodies flying together, as though freed from gravity by some supernatural force not unlike love?
Oh, I think that there are parties. And this can only mean one thing: Somebody out there is celebrating Seattle’s annexation into Sportugal and not inviting an Impartial Party-Centric Journalist (h-hem) to record the proceedings.
And that, needless to say is bullshit. What do your Superbowl Celebrations have to hide, Seattle?
partycrasher@thestranger.com
(heart,)
Paul Bobby Constant
P.S. No, I’m not drunk, but thank you for asking.