At my friend's Superbowl party yesterday, the spread could not have been more classic—chips, guacamole, 7-layer dip, homemade wings and someone brought a tray of sushi that went mostly uneaten. The drinks were, as another friend likes to call them "macrobrews," though, like my beloved Pacifico and that macro masquerading as a micro, Sam Adams. This photo was taken, that's right, deep into the fourth quarter, as the Superbowl party is the year's first opportunity to excuse one's self from new year's dieting plans and eat carcinogenic snacks.

Many of my friends are Patriots fans, including the host of this shindig, so I couldn't help but feel bad for him. He held up admirably, though. I rarely like to have people around to watch a game that's important to me—there's just too much chance for writhing and humiliation. On the other hand, I was happy to see a good game and was hugely impressed with the Giants, who played with massive heart the entire second half of the season.