I love pink. Seriously, I love it. I got my iPhone a pink cover. I have pink sweatpants. I have pink socks. I have a ton of pink underwear and several pink bras. I have some pink shirts and an old pink purse. I have pink heels and pink running sneakers. I have pink lipgloss and I even had pink eye shadow back in the day. I'm currently using my pink comforter. The inside of my glasses are pink. In case you didn't know, I love pink.
So, naturally, I am ecstatic for the game each season when the NFL celebrates Breast Cancer Awareness by putting pink everywhere! This Sunday, Week 4, was that Sunday. There were pink pom poms, cheerleader outfits, pink rimmed hats, pink gloves, pink sweatbands, pink towels, all pink shoes, shoes with pink soles, pink chin guards--if it could be turned pink, it was pink. There were pink Breast Cancer Awareness ribbons everywhere and in Buffalo, the Falls were even tinted pink. It was great -- borderline amazing, if you will. A tip of the boobies to you, National Football League. Thanks for caring about -- and appreciating -- our ta-tas.
During the game, I spent a lot of time wondering what each pink item meant. How did the players decide how much pink they'd wear? Were they required to add at least one pink accessory to their uniform? Was wearing a lovely shade of hot pink something they dreaded or loved? Since there were no players around to tell me the exact process that went into these decisions (see also: league rule that banned tweeting during games) I ended up creating decision-making scenarios in my head.
That's only a handful of the genius logic I discovered was behind the "to pink, or not to pink" decision. But you get the picture. The funny thing is, I was so pleased with all the pink surrounding me and was counting off all the pink belongings I own, yet pink isn't even my favorite color. Yellow is.
Oh yeah ... the Bills lost to the Jets 38-14. Whoopsie.
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