Football season. Brotherhood. Rear end parties. Amigos getting together to root, root, pull for the old host group. You wear your group shirts. You paint your faces blue. You . . . Pant! Stand by a moment! Would that be able to be your new neighbor - the one you thought was a beautiful cool person - going along with you and the folks with his face painted (shiver) green!!! Also, . . . also, . . . under that apparently guiltless coat . . . would that be able to be . . . ? Indeed, it is!!! Damn!!! A green shirt! Somewhat seems as though he's root, root, pulling for an alternate host group, no? So much for kinship. Helps us to remember when we lived in New Mexico. We're Easterners, so when St. John's was out there playing in the NCAA Tournament, we were practically alone among a huge number of cheering (and sneering) New Mexico fans. Indeed, three columns down from us, there was a person reviling out St. John's with such a lot of antagonistic fervor, he was beet red and cruising for a respiratory failure. เซ็กซี่ บาคาร่า ออนไลน์ Did we shake our heads in quiet dissatisfaction? Of course we didn't! We shook out the old vocal harmonies and yelled stronger than he. It nearly prompted a lynching. The humiliated person was far from being distant from everyone else. What's more, we were far from home. In any case, that was our group. So before you contemplate giving the double crosser . . . uh, the person in the green shirt . . . the warm brew and consumed bratwurst, consider the guts it takes to be consistent with your group when you're remaining solitary. What's more, on the off chance that you spill a little Bud Lite on that impacted green pullover . . . all things considered, it occurs. Yet, . . . uh . . . mustard is a significantly harder stain to get out. Simply on the off chance that you're intrigued . . .