I've bought a bunch of Michelob Ultras and a bag of frozen Tyson chicken wings.
I'm either going to savor them like ice cream, or microwave them to second death on a paper plate.
If you're out there somewhere, maybe feeling a bit lonely, and you're holed up in a sleazy motel room with swatted, bloody mosquito stains above the headboard, and maybe you've got a bucket of chicken and a fifth of vodka and you are going to watch the game, maybe run out for half a dozen Krispy Kremes at halftime...
Maybe you are thinking of company.
So, what you're going to need is some female companionship - assuming you are a guy. Or maybe not.
And a set of wheels.
And a more comfortable place to sit then the edge of the saggy, squeaky $40 a half-hour bed in the Crackpipe Inn (with COLOR TV - V cancy).
Yes, when you've got that sorted, you're ready to go out on the prowl and pick up some Vegas Big Game Companions.
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