Panthers Fans Pay Good Money to Sleep as Bengals Smoke Their Team: Sunday's All-Day Diary

If you watched the Bengals game on Sunday and you thought it was boring, imagine being a Panthers fan, it was like being raped by a Triceratops. The Carolina fan above paid $60 for a ticket to the game and then fell asleep/was roofied/passed out/went comatose by the middle of the third quarter.

It was a sight to behold.

My new friend Ickey Woods was more than happy to take a picture with sleeping/roofied/passed out/comatose Panthers guy. And yes, this picture pretty accurately sums up the Carolina fan base.

Alright, no more stalling, here is the non-sensical ramble known as the INSIC day-long diary. Characters include Brad (who hosted us all), Debbie, Nate, Justin, Mel and me.

8:01 a.m.: I wake up when a dog starts licking me. I hate hamsters, I hate most marine animals and I really hate dogs. So I'm pissed. Then I remember that I forgot to set my alarm, so the dog actually did me a favor. As a reward, I gave it two hamburger patties and a hot dog. I don't even know if dogs are allowed to eat that stuff, but I gave it to him anyway. By the way, I also ate hamburger patties and hot dogs for breakfast. We shared a plate, the dog and I are now best friends.

9:45 a.m.: I spend 1-hour and 44-minutes trying to wake everyone up in the house I am at. There were five other people who were all in differing states of alcohol laced slumber. I thought three of them were in comas. There could have been a five-alarm fire in the house, these people were not going to wake up. I made the dog lick them all.

10:18 a.m.: In my mind, we're already two hours late for tailgating, so I start to complain, but every time I would complain, my friend Brad would point outside and casually mention the impending hurricane that was about to engulf all of Charlotte. Tailgating in hurricanes isn't fun, neither is tailgating in snowstorms or hail storms. I've never tailgated in a sand storm, but I bet that sucks too.

11:01 a.m.: Because my Charlotte friends are smart and watch the weather channel 17 hours a day, they knew it was going to rain. So we tailgate inside. Tailgating inside is like having sex with a really fat ugly chick, its nothing you're proud of, but its still sex... or tailgating in this case.

12:48 p.m.: The walk to the stadium is horrible. Imagine taking a shower with all of your clothes on, then drying off and then taking another shower with only your shoes on and then going to a football game. I'm pretty sure this is how everyone in the stadium felt. Except for the people with ponchos. People with ponchos are smarter than everyone. Someone wearing a poncho will cure cancer.

1:07 p.m.: Our tickets for the game are at will call, which means me, Justin, Nate, Mel and Debbie all have to stand in the rain while Brad retrieves them. We have no ponchos, no umbrellas... Lets just say, for some stupid, horribly thought out reason, we all planned for

tropical weather. While we were standing outside the stadium, we notice two Redskins fans LEAVING the game. Yes, seven minutes into the game, they were leaving. I am not making this up. They explained to us that they would rather go watch the Redskins in a bar. Well, I think we can all agree that karma Triceratops raped them because Washington got molested by St. Louis (And yes, I am trying to see how many times I can use the words Triceratops and rape in the same sentence).

1:23 p.m.: We get into the stadium just in time to see Cedric Benson score. It's a historic touchdown for the Bengals. Why? Because it's their first opening quarter touchdown since Nov. 22, 2009. That's right, the Bengals successfully went nine games without a first quarter touchdown. That's the equivalent of being married and going nine years without having sex on a Monday, it's almost unfathomable.

1:58 p.m.: I see a little girl in front of me holding the Batman sign pictured at right. Unfortunately I didn't have the heart to tell her that that Ocho was Robin and that T.O. was Batman. But it wasn't her fault that she got them mixed up, it was her parents fault. Horrible display of parenting here, but we won't go to hard on the parents because they did raise their kid a Bengals fan after all.

2:19 p.m.: I promised myself that if the Bengals were winning at halftime, I wouldn't complain about Carson Palmer. The Bengals are winning 10-0.

2:21 p.m.: It takes me .3 seconds to break my promise, I start complaining right away. What the hell happened at the end of the first half? Panther fans were LAUGHING at us. Panthers fans have not laughed at anyone in five years. Then some stupid Panthers fan says it, "I'm glad we have Jimmy Clausen and not Carson Palmer." They had to be kidding, there are General Managers in the NFL that would rather have AIDS than Jimmy Clausen. By the way, in case you missed the end of the half, Carson managed the clock like Andy Reid and blew a Bengals scoring opportunity.

2:59 p.m.: Jimmy Clausen leads the Panthers on the first (and what will probably be the only) touchdown drive of his career. No one in the stadium cheers and thats mainly because there are only 90 Panthers fans left. Which isn't Tampa Bay Rays fans pathetic, but its pretty bad.

3:02 p.m.: Just to prove how empty the stadium was, I take this picture (below) of the beer line 10 minutes before the beer line was closing. At Paul Brown Stadium, there would be a small riot as people fought to get their last beer. At Bank of America Stadium, there was this guy, all by himself. I think the booth pictured sold $21 worth of beer on the day. Keep in mind, the beers cost $7.

3:19 p.m.: Mike Nugent, who happens to be my early vote for team MVP, hits a 50-yard field goal that would have been good from Canada. Bengals go up 13-7.

3:36 p.m.: Carolina's Jonathan Stewart fumbles and the Bengals recover. Carson Palmer then does something that no one in the stadium thought was possible: he completes three passes in a row. Not only that, but the last one goes for a touchdown. After the game clinching TD pass to Benson, I forgive Carson for his 18 incompletions and 11 interceptions on the day (Note: he actually only threw two interceptions, Panthers defensive backs dropped the other nine).

3:51 p.m.: Carson Palmer takes a knee. As do all the Panthers fans in the stadium. Carson is taking his knee to run the clock out. Panthers fans are taking their knee because they are praying to God that Jimmy Clausen never starts another game for them ever again.

4:41 p.m.: While walking back from the stadium, I run into a group of 19 Panthers fans who are all playing corn hole. We all agree that if Jimmy Clausen and Carson Palmer were on the same team in corn hole, they would score zero points. We also agree that its completely plausible that they would lose a game to a cat and a hamster, but that would only be assuming that the cat doesn't eat the hamster. Anyway, I offer to put my hat and jersey on the line in the game. I go up 9-2 in a game to 11. But then my friends come and tell me its time to go, something about how people have to catch flights and stuff. Can you believe that? My friends thought catching their flights home and not missing work on Monday was more important then my corn hole game! Asses. I told them that I hoped that they all got raped by a triceratops. Then one of them told me that Triceratops' are extinct and that I should come up with a new animal and just drop the dinosaur rape bit all together. I have vowed to never make a dinosaur rape joke ever again.

Next INSIC All-Day Diary will be live from Atlanta

Bengals-Vikings: Sunday's Official Fan Diary And Possibly Boringest Game Ever Played Between Two Teams With Nine or More Wins

There's nothing like going all the way to Minnesota only to see your team get treated like a four-dollar hooker. Such was the plight of Bengals fans this weekend.

Back in October (you know, back when the Bengals were good), INSIC went to the Baltimore game and produced this diary. This time, we were in Minnesota for what we thought would be a weekend of Ochocinco awesomeness. Nope. As it turned out, the Bengals play was 10 times crappier than the weather (which was 4 degrees by the way). How crappy was it? The beer guy in our row made made at least three better passes on the day than Carson Palmer did.

Anyway I'll stop boring you now, the Bengals offense did enough of that on Sunday, lets get to the diary. This week's cast of characters came from all over: Nate (Chicago), Brad (Charlotte), Justin (New York), Melissa (Atlanta) and me.

First, let me start out by saying this: America needs a Central Time Zone like I need a tape worm. I hope the person who came up with Central Time is in the hottest part of hell. It's the worst time zone by far. Who the hell kicks off an NFL football game at noon? I'll tell you who, the dumb asses in the central time zone. Yes, the Bengals-Vikings game started at noon local time. And yes, the diary is written with Central time in mind.


5:47 p.m. (Saturday): I'm still at the airport and I get a text message from Nate, now I'm not sure why, but he is at a mall. I thought the only person that would want to be at a mall on this trip was my girlfriend, which would make sense because she's a girl. Nope, I am wrong, Nate wanted to be at the mall also.

While at the mall, Nate spots three Bengals: Jonathan Joseph, Leon Hall and Andre Caldwell. Apparently the team's pre-game party is at Nicollet Mall in downtown Minneapolis. Chuck E. Cheese must have been booked. Nate slept at Leon Hall's house once (it's a long story), so he starts a conversation. I don't want to spoil it for Leon's wife, but it sounds like she's getting a sweet Christmas present.

5:51 p.m.: Melissa and I are trying to catch the train that goes from the airport to our hotel. And I emphasize the word 'trying.' We miss the first train because Melissa decides throwing snowballs at me is more fun than riding on a train. We miss the second train because Melissa left her purse somewhere and I had to go back and get it, because apparently her purse is my responsibility. Justin, who is suppose to meet us at another train station, sends about eight texts saying, "uh, are you guys dead?" Uh, yes Justin, a part of my soul died every time Melissa hit me with a snow ball.

6:45 p.m.: Arrival at the hotel. This wouldn't be a story except that it so happens we were staying at the Vikings' team hotel. There were about 200 Vikings fans standing in the lobby and 198 of them had on a Brett Favre jersey. Dear Minnesota, just wait until January, Favre is going to bend you over and F-you like he's Tiger Woods and you're one of his sexual liaisons. By the way, we also had a ten minute argument about what name Brett Favre checks into the hotel under, Nate guessed Aaron Rodgers, we all agreed that Nate won the argument.

8:17 p.m.: Justin invents a game called "Pick a Heisman Candidate Out of the Hat." The rules to the game were simple, we put the five candidates names in a hat and we all picked one out. There were fabulous prizes for the winner. I pick the guy who's name I can't spell or pronounce, he went to Nebraska, he played defense, so I immediately quit. Ironically, Justin would win the game by picking Mark Ingram, nothing pisses me off more then when someone invents a game and then wins it.

Saturday Night: Since this Bengals fan diary is about the Bengals game, I'll sum up Saturday night in three words: Canadians, BMW heiress, 17 degrees below zero. (That's more like 7 words, sorry). Very short sample of conversation between me and BMW girl:

Me to the girl: What was your name again?

Girl: Lets just say my initials are B.M.W, so you probably know what my dad does? And what was your name again?

Me: Uh, no, I don't know what the hell your dad does and my initials are H.I.V., so you can probably guess what I'm going to die of in three years.

SUNDAY

9:12 a.m.: We all wake up and have the following vote: tailgate outside in the 2 degree weather or stay in our comfortable hotel room: final tally 3-1 (and one abstention. Seriously, we're not electing a speaker of the house here, why in the name of Fran Tarkenton did anyone abstain?). Tailgating inside wins.

11:36 a.m.: Justin, Nate and Brad jump in a cab, there is no room for me and Melissa. A shady black van with no cab license or money meter pulls up to us "$25 dollars to the Metrodome." If people could be shot in the face for price gouging, the driver of this black van would be dead. The stadium is 1.3 miles from our hotel and the dude wants $25.00. Luckily, our Canadian friends show up and pay the fare. And even more surprising, they paid it in American money. Imagine that, Canadians using American money.

Noon-12:41 p.m.: I wasn't at the Redskins-Raiders game, but I would bet my cat and my flatscreen TV that their first quarter was 29 times more exciting than ours. I didn't chart the Bengals plays in the quarter, but I think they went something like this: run, run, run, punt, run, run, run, punt, run, horrible pass, run, punt, closed my eyes because I couldn't take it anymore. Then, finally God showed Bengals fans some mercy by letting the first quarter clock hit 0:00.

12:41-12:45 p.m.: Melissa can sometimes have the attention span of a 4-year-old child. How boring was the first period for her? We're only one quarter in and she's already plotting ways to kidnap the Bengals fan baby in front of us. I promised her I would not bail her out of jail, she said that was O.K. as long as the baby safely made it back to Atlanta with me.

1:00 p.m.: The Vikings Sidney Rice catches a touchdown pass and then it happens, my ears start bleeding. Not because I was cold, but because Minnesota's fight song started: Skol Vikings. If you have never heard the song, please click the link now before you continue reading. At first I hated it, by the time Minnesota scored their third touchdown, I was singing along.

1:16 p.m.: Finally, the Bengals score and the shut out is over. It's time for the 'Bengal Growl.' Minnesota fans laugh at our song which is ironic because their songs sucks more and is 8 times cheesier. Ochocinco does not do a dance after he scores, do you know why? Because he is somewhat smart. He does not do touchdown dances when the Bengals are not going to win.

1:24-1:27 p.m.: Thanks to a combination of Ryan Longwell, Carson's piss poor performance and a little luck, the Vikings get six points in the final 35 seconds of the half. Remember the Raider's game when Oakland scored 10 points in 24 seconds to win, it has nothing to do with this post, I just wanted to remind you.

2:00 p.m.: Sometime in the third quarter, after Adrian Peterson had scored on a 1-yard touchdown run, it happened. I got so bored that I decided to do a head count of all the Bengals fans in attendance. 567 in case you're wondering. Nate decided Facebook was more exciting than the game. He was right. We then started listing places we hate but that we would rather be at than the Metrodome: Pottery Barn, Williams Sonoma, and Bed, Bath and Beyond were all mentioned.

2:20 p.m.: Shayne Graham kicks a 22-yard field goal. Hey Marvin Lewis, here's a novel idea: when you're team is trailing 23-7 and your offense has done nothing all day, GO FOR A TOUCHDOWN WHEN YOU'RE AT THE OPPONENTS FIVE-YARD LINE. On fourth and goal from the five, the Bengals kick the field goal. Great call Coach. I start helping Melissa plot a way to kidnap the Bengals fan baby. Then we debate what's more criminal: the way the Bengals are playing or kidnapping a baby.

2:46 p.m.: The Bengals put in J.T. O'Sullivan. I cry, not because we are losing, but because if J.T. O'Sullivan made it to the NFL, why didn't I?

2:47 p.m.: O'Sullivan completes a pass for nine yards. In my mind this starts a quarterback controversy.

GAME OVER

Postgame Summary: On the way home from the game (we walked this time) Melissa decides she wants to buy bubble bath, she disappears, no one knows where she is or why she is buying bubble bath. I head straight to the hotel room. I've seen enough Dateline NBC to know that if your girlfriend disappears in a weird city, you better have an alibi.

Justin, Nate and Brad all see me, I am no longer a suspect. Due to the ungodly low temperature, my phone freezes and will not work. Melissa did not bring her phone to the game because she didn't want to lose it. We put the odds of her not returning at 18 percent. Melissa shows up an hour later: she's alive, without frostbite, has bubble bath and she is only missing one glove.

Justin and Brad have 5:30 p.m. flights, they are smart, they get out the Arctic weather as quickly as possible.

Nate, Melissa and I got to a Minneapolis restaurant: Hell's Kitchen: it turns out to be the only highlight of the trip.

On the way to the airport, we made an impromptu stop at the Mall of America. And in case you're wondering, there is a roller coaster. And kind of like the Metro Dome, it's small, cheap and uncomfortable.

We'll be back in eight years Minnesota, see you in 2017. Or at the Super Bowl, whichever comes first.