I am a Broncos fan. Since I was born. It has not always been easy, we have had some terrible seasons over the years. But I always cheered for them, whether we win or lose. Sometimes I think I care too much about the games, and when they lose it fucking ruins my day. And there are Raiders fans that live in this orange and blue state (for the life of me I couldn't tell you why), and they always get to talk shit when we fail, usually without any repurcussions since their team always sucks ass.

But tomorrow I feast on the tears of the Bronco hating bastards at work. Sure it was the first game of the season. Sure there is a long way to go. But these assholes delighted in their celebration when the Baltimore Ravens stole the superbowl that was rightfully ours last season, and they will hear from me tomorrow. "And by the way," I will tell them, "we play the Raiders in our next home game. Care to make a gentleman's bet?" And they will sheepishly laugh and decline.

In case you don't follow the NFL, tonight the Denver Broncos stomped the superbowl champion Baltimore Ravens 49 - 27, and gave away 7 points on a fumbled punt inside the five, and gave back 7 points on a dropped ball after an interception. Peyton Manning tied an NFL record with 7 touchdowns, a feat that hasn't been done since 1969. And all this without our two best defensive players, Champ Bailey and Von Miller. Joe Flacco earned his 120 million dollar contract the hard way tonight, as he was held down and forced to toss Manning's sweaty salad at altitude, and I loved every minute of it.

I will be honest, though. This post was either going to be an angry rant about the mistakes we made, the bad calls by the refs, and petty name calling directed at Flacco, or it would be this. Now I pursue sleep, dear audience, sleep that will be punctuated by dreams of a Broncos superbowl.

You must be at least this tall to blow me.

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The broncos lost a heartbreaking game tonight, so I have been drinking and stewing in anger. Am I going to ever forget the (at least) five plays that were bullshit calls for the ravens? No. Am I going to forget the 70 yard touchdown pass to tie the game with seconds remaining? No. So I would like to take a moment to list some things I fucking hate.

I hate children. People tell me "Oh, but Hamtackle, the children are the only innocent humans on earth! They are guilty of nothing, and represent the purity of human nature before the corrupting influences of society!" Exactly. That's why I hate them. How fucking boring are children? The have zero insight and are single-minded and selfish. Besides the fact the our faults and mistakes are the only thing that distinguishes us from each other and makes us interesting. Tell a story about the most altruistic thing you have done, or the greatest temptation that you were able to overcome, and watch the room empty. Now tell a fucked up story about when you set you dick on fire during a coke binge. Mr. Popular.

I hate the people I work with. I hate the ones who try to relate to me and be my friend. I hate the ones who try to impress me with their knowledge about work-related subjects. I hate the ones who hate me back, and only wipe the mean look off their faces when they want me to approve time off or help with their time card. And I hate the ones that are always pleasant, who smile and greet me at 6 AM and ask me how my morning is going, the same ones who would judge me if they ever heard five seconds of thought running through my head, even when I am sleeping.

And I hate good weather. I hate the brightness of the sun, the warmth and fresh breezes. I hate how they remind me how much time I spend trapped in rooms that I would rather burn down than continue existing within, but am too cowardly to lite the matches myself. I hate how much others enjoy it, and the way they can't stop talking about it like it somehow enhances their lives when they spend just as much time as I do baking under the florescent bulbs, rotting away in front of a monitor.

And I hate the Baltimore Ravens, the Broncos, and the NFL. Until next season.