...is—and everbody knows it—a Sunday afternoon devoted to getting drunk and eating snacks. I've attended many a Super Bowl party, never watching an iota of the game, merely because it is foolish to pass up this U.S.-government-sanctioned daytime inebriation pigout. (I'm the weirdo in the other room reading or out in the yard looking at birds. I am consuming a surprising portion of the beer.)
In the true spirit of the game, please be reminded that Paul Constant recently found the perfect Buffalo wings recipe.
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