Championship Sunday. I'll take mine with extra nuts!

It was same old same old in New England.
The ageless, deflateless, mage was on a stage for the ages.
Brady and the hoodie were unstoppable, unsackable, and ripped the Picksburgh secondary to shreds by completing passes underneath to slow, white dudes.
Ben looked cold and wet and tired and sore and ready for a vacation, is he getting fat?
LeVeon Bell tried to cut and turn but after a few plays his groin started to burn. DOH!
It's good to know that we have all figured out the difference between a flea flicker and a hook and ladder.
If we could only figure out the difference between a pooch kick and a muffed punt.

More importantly, everyone on the bandwagon to Houston because our very own Magic City Dirty birds unpacked the Pack and shoved a dagger into the cold heart of the NFC and we are going to the SuperBowl!
The Georgia Dome went out loud and screaming and victorious.
The Dome may not have been the best place to watch a football game, but it ended in a manner befitting this great city and its underrated professional sports fans.
Even though they may not show up most of the time, they showed up yesterday when it counted!
Matty Ice was cold blooded and hot handed as he racked up TD after TD.
The MVP basically turned the second half into a Pink Pony lap dance.

The only better way to end the Georgia Dome would've been for Dusty Rhodes to pin Ric Flair in a steel cage for the NWA World Heavyweight title. Somebody call Tony Schiavone.