Crotch Rockets

Ah, Christmas in Brooklyn. After our traditional pannetone-and-eggnog french toast breakfast and present exchange, I have awoken from my second nap, no children to appease or guests to entertain - only a girlfriend to smooch and some cats to torture. It's good to be home again.

We are such lesbians. Other than the Rufus tickets, I gave her slippers and jewelry, and she gave me football tickets. Don't worry, I don't fix transmissions and sport a dark moustache. I use creme bleach!

Normally, I'd be disappointed that Mrs. Nator couldn't get Giants tickets, but they suck so hard this year I'm glad we're going to see the Jets. She's even going with me - and on New Year's Eve! Should be fun.

The one thing I don't get is the placement of the logo on the football player on the tickets. Did they really think hard about their marketing?

What'djyoo get?