A Game Day Mile-High Salute to Chiefs Fans in Denver

It's game day here in the mile-high city, and the wife and I are pumped to hoof it down to Lot N for some breakfast and booze with the other HoG couples. Considering it's probably 35 degrees out, and it snowed like 80 feet (somewhere) yesterday, we're thankful that none of us have yet born offspring. Especially us. That would've meant we would've had to bundle up another body, feed it and ask it to trudge through the drifts with us, 'cause I ain't carryin' nobody.

Not to mention that the lil' fucker would've woken us up some time ago, instead of when we chose to. But anyway, after the jump, check out what I'll be digging on as we trod through downtown.

Ah. You made it. Nice. To answer myself, that'd be pretty much nothing. We won't see The Scout overlooking Penn Valley. We won't hear The Tomahawk Chop (loudly), we won't hear the "First Down!" for the Chiefs. We will, however, aside from our own, see sorry excuses for tailgates -- Seven and Cecil put together a pretty good gig but they sort of feel pressured to, you know, since they're tailgating with a Chiefs fan (and a smoothly handsome one at that) -- and we will see dumb statues of horses everywhere, and we will see lots of ugly -- namely orange and blue -- colors, and we will hear the gayest stadium -- In-Com-Plete -- chant in the northern hemisphere and we will suffer through the "protect this house" retardedness with which the PA assaults one.

Most importantly, we will see a victory! And we hope it's by the visiting team! Let's go, Chiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeefs!

Oh, and eff those mothereffin' In-Com-Plete homos. That's how I know you're gay, BroncoNation.
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Tradition Week Reports From Those Other, More Professional Sports Blogger Types

I can think of very little I enjoy more than wearing Chiefs apparel in Denver on Tradition Weekend. Even now, when our teams (epecially mine) are pretty damn hurtin', it's a big tall glass of good times. And if the Donkey lovers are anything like me, it really irks them to see me rollin' through their hood with my gear. But I be doin' it. Then I leave and come back again, and I be doin' it some more. That said, there is a considerable amount about tomorrow's game that fans of both clubs should consider. I mean, aside from the fact that, collectively, we all want the Chargers plane or locker room to spontaneously implode. But it's factor time, and we should pay close attention. Let's have a gander 'round the Chiefs/Broncos UniBlog for a listen in to what be bein' said.

Chris at Arrowhead Pride dug up this ultra-savory clip from the StubTubes. Gotta love parents that get the kids geared up at an early age.

Speaking of StubTubeage, the Best Brothers of Springfield (a.k.a. Arrowhead Addict/Fan-Sided Blogs) shared this odd clip of The Inverted Vagina Symbol talking about, well, typical LJ stuff.

Earlier in the week, Adam Godson over at Predominantly Orange, put together this list of the Top Ten Choncos in My Briefs contests in the last 15 years. Not a surprise that there are more Denver victories than KC wins on the list, but it is a good list, especially numero uno. That game was savory.

Mr. Hercules Rockefeller, proud founder/writer of Orange Bucksnorts, weighs in on the Donkeys cutting Sam Adams, and how embarrassing it is to lose to Za Raiders, a feeling to which both Chiefs fans and Broncos fans can relate. Ol' Herc' has yet to paint his picture on tomorrow's contest, but we'll see if he doesn't come through before kickoff.

The big boys over at KSK have a funny take on the ol' T-Henmeister. Good stuff.

Speaking of big boys and T-Hen, the Deadspinsters linked to Westword for still more coverage on how to be a clean-urine stoner and daddy of the year at the same time.

Here at the HoG, however, we're waiting for the final segment of the Iron Triangle. Cecil, of course, calls Denver home, and as Old No. 7 mentioned yesterday, the wife and I caught one of those plane thingies from KC. Seven himself, however, ran into a bit of an Avalanche this morning attempting to summit Wolf Creek Pass. So, he, his wife, and their trailer in-tow (surely loaded with nothing but absolute necessities), were forced to turn around, matriculate across the lovely land of enchantment known as New Mexico, and procure an alternate/safer route to the mile-high city. They're certain to arrive prior to our 8:00 dinner reservations as Seven has never been late in his life, demanding intravenously administered grain alcohol. Cecil and I will oblige, and times will indeed be good.

Not near as good as kickoff time tomorrow, but pretty good nonetheless. Read more