Super Bowl...Monday?

As an American, I felt it my duty to celebrate one of the greatest holidays my country has to offer- the Super Bowl. If the advertising industry has taught me anything, it is that this day is a sacred blessing given to us by the one they call the NFL. 

It was 10am on a Monday, and I rallied my fellow hostelians to search high and low for a decently divey bar playing the game. Luckily, a couple of bros were roaming the halls with a box of goon (worse than Franzia), looking for suspects like us to join their party. The bar was decorated with American flags and flag banners everywhere, so I felt right at home. I ordered a bucket of the only American drink being offered- heavy Budweiser- and watched cutie Papa Bush toss the coin.

Then...travesty struck.

The commercials. Don't. Air. Here.

We had to suffer through repeating agony of an 80s-looking Lifetime drama of Crocodile Dundee and "Bride and Prejudice". Lady Gaga's flawless performance was the only thing that got me through this assault on SB legacy.

Though in the end, my Super Bowl abroad was a success. I taught half the bar how to play football and made a few more friends. The day rounded out with Macca's and hours of karaoke, which is never a bad idea.

My wonderful friends: Pip and Ann-Marie ❤