What Superbowl?

Last night at a Superbowl Party, LaHipster's new friend asked if I could speak in a thick RI accent. Well, does the Pope shit in the woods? Sure I can. I never thought to wonder why he was making this request. I mean, who wouldn't want to be serenaded by the dulcet tones of my mother tongue? Later, he mentioned it agin. "I really want to be able to talk in a thick RI accent like they do on Family Guy."

Huh? "What are you talking about," I asked. "They don't have accents on Family Guy." The room got quiet. The small group of people was looking at me. "What?!" said the guy, grabbing my shoulder to look me in the face. "You're kidding, right? You're kidding. "

"What are you talking about?" I said. "You're kidding me. They don't have accents on Family Guy."

"Oh my God," he said. "They have the most nasally voices."

"Really? I've never noticed anything. I never noticed. You call that an accent? Please, that's nothing." I think everyone in the room, including myself, was frightened by the fact that I could not detect any trace of an accent on Peter and Lois. What? That's how people talk.

LaHipster later felt the full force of my ego after she explained to someone that I was going to be a bridesmaid. "What? What did you say?" She looked at me blankly, possibly wondering if she had just let slip some state secret. "What am I???"

"Oh, you're the Maid of Honor!"

"That's right, bitch." Fortunately, LaHipster was able to survive without choking to death on my vanity and even likes me well enough to promise to come over and help me put up a shelf. For the cost of materials and some pasta fagioli, of course.