Love is football. Therefore, football can't be hurried. That's Phil Collins, and it might as well be law.
Call me the Sheriff, because when it comes to love, I'm a law-abiding citizen, lady.
It's Valentine's Day, and that means I'm gonna roll up in this tracksuit...slow. It means we don't hurry up anything, and we are gonna huddle. Love is nothing without communication.
Then we're gonna line up and...whoa, girl. Don't even put your hand on the ball yet. There's 40 seconds on that clock, and we're gonna use allllllllll of them. Love isn't about the number of plays. It's about rolling this out eight, nine, oh, maybe ten plays at a time. Slowly. Powerfully. Sometimes we just kick it, and sometimes we go straight for the score.
It all depends on how you feel, girl.
But it will happen slowly. Listen: that's the sound of once ice cube hitting the bottom of this ice tray. And another. And another. I'm not gonna fill this thing all at once. No, no, you let the Baylors and Auburns of the world do that. I'mma let this roll for a minute. Might take ten minutes for me to fill this up. Might take me eleven. But it's gonna get there, and when it does?
We got a bucket of ice, girl. And it'll keep that suicide Slush Puppy laced with Adderall as cold as you like.
I'll order a pizza. I only do pizza cooked low and slow. You might like a crust, but I like a pizza you have to eat with a spoon. No, no, girl, that's not the same as Chicago deep-dish. This takes seven hours to make. Otherwise, it's basically the same as Chicago deep-dish pizza.
We can eat the pizza and watch a movie. A SLOW movie. We're gonna eat that soup-pizza and watch some Terence Malick, and we're gonna sit on that bed in our robes and watch a guy talk about the rain while laundry blows in the breeze for ten minutes. We will watch The Tree of Life and if that's not enough we'll watch a Lars Von Trier movie. Any of them will do.
We're gonna play Monopoly using all the rules, and until one of us runs out of money completely. I'm gonna be the thimble, girl, because someone threw the racecar away.
We'll play a sexy game of "Woman writing a check for groceries in the year 2014." You'll be the lady who stubbornly refuses to use even simple technology in the 21st century. I'll be the irritated man behind you who can't resist you while rolling my eyes and trying to identify which celebrity does indeed have the worst beach body.
Uh oh, the cash register doesn't have a price listed for string cheese! Guess we'll have to wait for the stock boy to go check.
He's real busy, that stock boy.
I'm gonna crack out the N64 and find every star in Super Mario 64. You're gonna think we've permanently relocated to Lethal Lava Land by the time I'm done.
There will be bedroom stripping. Of wallpaper. It takes so long to do properly. But all worthwhile things do, and that's why I refuse to upgrade from dial-up internet. Sing to me, you saucy 56k minx.
We're gonna take it SLOW, girl. The card says we are going for two. And that is exactly what we will do.