Armchair Beer Vendor

There are many good things about having a job. High on that list are the paycheck, the sense of purpose and the decreased likelihood you’ll be around a TV at the wrong time of day and accidentally catch even a moment of “The View.” Beware, Jim Zorn.

There are downsides, however. For instance, putting in long hours at the office makes maintaining a blog that nobody cares about fairly difficult. I haven’t posted an entry here for months. And the public has responded to my absence with a predictably resounding indifference, the likes of which won’t be seen again in this country until whenever the FIFA World Cup comes around again.

But the fact that you’re reading this means that you either care about the ramblings of a vaguely-informed, under-credentialed idiot, or that you’re married to him. It's for you that I write.

Super Bowl XLIV is just around the corner, assuming you live around the corner from Sun Life Stadium in Opa Locka, Florida.

But many of us don’t. For us, the Super Bowl experience will take on a decidedly 1080p quality, and that big screen TV might very well be at someone else’s house.

Now, I suspect everyone reading this is like me (in fact, I suspect everyone reading this is me). We’re no strangers to Super Bowl parties, and we enjoy camaraderie, laughter and onion dip as much as anybody. But we’re also football fans, and when the biggest football game of the year is on television, we want to watch it.

That can be difficult in such environments, where the sports-indifferent guest is invariably present in large numbers. See, there are those who just don’t seem to get that some of us actually care about the game, and that we would like to both see and hear all of it.

Now, I can’t possibly be expected to have sewn every interloper’s lips shut by Sunday. But I think I can still be of some help to those of you to reduce the amount of unnecessary chatter while you’re trying to take in the broadcast. What follows is a cheat sheet that, if distributed at game time, might just end some Super Bowl conversations before they’ve started.

There is no score. For crying out loud, the game just started.

It is weird that you still think of them as the Baltimore Colts. It’s been 26 years now.

It's a birthmark.

That guy they keep showing in the stands is Archie Manning. He played quarterback for the Saints, and is a legend in New Orleans. But today he’s rooting for his son Peyton’s Colts. They’ve said it seventeen times since the opening kickoff; I’m surprised you’ve missed it.

I don’t know what tickets were going for on eBay, but I think your estimate of a jillion dollars is a little high.

You’re right. Jeremy Shockey seems like a jerk.

No, Saints coach Sean Payton isn’t related to Peyton Manning, but I see what you did there. Ha ha.

Nobody knows what GoDaddy.com is exactly, and yes, they were probably implants.

The “French thingy” to which you refer is actually called a fleur-de-lis. It means “flower-of-lis.”

“Who dat?” is short for “Who dat? Who dat? Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints? Who dat? Who dat?” It means, “Who is that? Who is that? Who is that who says he or she is going to beat the Saints? Who is that? Who is that?”

That guy’s jumping around and flexing his muscles because he was one of the three players who tackled that kick returner on the 31-yard line.

Yes, they still make Bugles.

How did I know that the halftime show is always your favorite part?

You’re right! Saturday is also a day of the week!

No, no. The last digit of the Saints' score has to be nine. The Colts‘ has to be 4. If it’s the other way around, you win nothing. Have you never participated in an office pool before?

Yes, the commercials seem particularly lame this year.

That was my beer. No, it’s okay. I’ll get another.

Evidently, Abe Vigoda is not dead.

I don’t know whether that little, blurry spot behind the goalposts is your friend Leslie, and yes, I do mind if we back it up and pause it while you figure it out.

Did you just reference "Twilight?" Okay, just get the hell out of here.