Three cities. Three Buffalo Bills games. Twenty-one days.

One delicious NFL sandwich.

What a December itinerary it was. Starting Sunday, Dec. 10 in the Meadowlands, I’d be partaking in an NFL Odyssey with stops also coming in Buffalo (Dec. 17) and Baltimore (Dec. 31). Although other Zubazkateers would join me at each stop, I would be the only one traversing to more than one stadium (although honorary 'kateer Losee made two trips). It was a challenge I was more than up to. It was time to live the dream …

The Meadowlands are a great place to learn about life. There isn’t a better way to put it than that.

It’s a place where dreams are made of. That is, if it’s your dream to be afloat in a sea of semi-retarded, inbred, ugly motherfuckers. As most know, Jets fans are one of the lowest forms of life you can find in an NFL stadium. They’re ranked right below the bacteria in that pool of piss that didn’t quite make it into the urinal and a smidgen above Fireman Ed’s pubic lice. I guess you could call them, “one of a kind.”

As the top slice of bread in my NFL sandwich, I sunk my teeth into the moldy marbled rye that is the Meadowlands one unseasonably warm December morning. Along for the ride were Zubazkateers Bryan Byrne and Isaac Kasikov, as well as Friends of ZubazPants.com, Plant, Miles and the legendary Losee.

Fortunately for me, Losee is also a Bills fan, so I at least had some backup in case the worm turned in the hellhole that is Giants Stadium, as it so often does. This is a place where fans get stabbed in the neck for wearing a jersey that isn’t to the knife-wielders liking. In one case, a stab-ee was wearing a CHAD PENNINGTON jersey. Get the point? These people are sick, rabid animals in dire need of being put down to sleep.

Losee along with degenerate Jets fans, Bryan and Plant

I shouldn’t trash the Jets fans I went with however, they can at least form sentences. I kid, I kid. No, aside from my brother pulling some Vice City maneuvers on the road, the Jets fans I went with were class acts the entire day. Maybe it was being in the prescence of such a wonderful team and fanbase like that of the Buffalo Bills. We ooze class.

Ha ha ha.

Three asshole Jets fans

Making the trip even better before it started, was the fact that the NFL Flex Plan had pushed this game from 1:00 p.m. to 4:15 p.m. Of course, as any alcoholic football fan knows, this means more time to tailgate and less hassle and hurrying in the morning. Arriving at noon on the dot, we were set for an afternoon and evening of inebriation and football.

Losee is up to something devious in the background

It was the best kind of day you can have, one fueled by Natty Light and hot sausages. That perfect stomach concoction combined with the soothing sounds of Stevie Wonder were all we needed on this beautifal day. We were truly “Livin’ for the City.” Before Wonder, we first tailgated to the musical sylings of Rage Against the Machine, which might have rubbed our neighbors with the “Freedom Isn’t Free” window decal the wrong way. The Stevie Wonder change-up must have led them to believe that we were not of this planet. Can’t argue with that. They were cool guys though, they even took the next picture.

This is what happens when you eat hot sausages, drink Natty Light and listen to a mix containing only Rage and Stevie Wonder songs. Please note Kasikov and the cig. AMAZING.

OK, I lied, Pixie Stix were also involved for at least one of us …

Eventually – like it always does – game time crept up on us about four hours too early. We staggered our way into the stadium, where I was accosted by Jets fans at every turn for my gaudy head-to-toe Zubaz outfit. The highlight was one of them shouting, “Hey asshole, you look like Napoleon Dynamite!” I responded only by lifting my arms high into the air and making a Morpheus “bring it on” gesture with both hands. At least that guy seemed to get the joke. More than one gel-soaked guido made the remark that my outfit was ugly. No, really? Zubaz? Ugly? Dumb sons of bitches.

Inside the rat’s nest

Once inside, the insults were continuosly being lobbed at me as the Jets staked themselves to an early 10-7 lead. “Go back to the 1980s … JERKOFF!” more than one yelled. I told them that Zubaz was more of a 1992 thing. Some laughed, some sat there dumfounded and some shot daggers out of their eyes that were aimed at my neck.

Kasikov and Bryan during happier times

That 10-7 lead would soon evaporate for New York, as Buffalo went on to score 24 unanswered points (!), keeping their playoff hopes alive at that point. It was a beautiful sight. Miles even passed out from the pain, and the stranger sitting next to him asked me if I could switch seats with Miles. The man feared that Miles was going to vomit all over his young daughter. I was hesitant at first – this could have been one of the Meadowland’s important life lessons – but made the switch knowing that Miles’ real problem was the excessive devouring of Pixie Stix earlier in the day.

Miles is down for the count

Like the hopeful bunch they are, the Jets fans began to file out with more than half of the fourth quarter remaining.

Drive home safely!

Look at that scoreboard … bitches

With the game in hand, me and Losee rejoiced in our team’s fortunes. Soundly beating the Jets and their overconfident fans was undoubtedly one of the highlights of the season. With that said, nothing is scarier than a bunch of downtrodden Jets fans. With the Bills in control of a 21-10 lead right before the half thanks to a Nate Clements interception return for a touchdown, I scuttled off to the bathroom to beat the crowds. When I got to the pisser, there weren’t many fans in there. But soon it started to fill up, and I knew that as soon as one of them made a comment about me – the lone Bills fan in the bathroom of death – it would be all over. And then it came. And then they all started cursing and hollering. And then I cut my piss short and headed for the hills. Phew. You might say I'm a pussy, but you don't know what it was like in there, man. I felt like I did during Alien Encounter at Disney World back in the day. Death was looming. The heat was intense.

The way out of the stadium wasn’t as bad, considering we stayed for the entire game and about half the crowd had left, which included most of the guys that come just to do lines of coke, crush skulls and get hummers in the bathroom stalls from chicks named Angela.

WOOO!

That’s right Plant man!

While the traffic caused by early fleeing Jets fans piled up, we continued the cooking on our delicious looking grill in the dystopian nightmare that the Meadowlands parking lot had become.

Yikes

In a display of complete savagery, Kasikov smashed an onion on the pavement with his boot and threw it on the grill. We all used parts of this dirty ass onion for our last sausages. My stomach was a volatile place right into the Buffalo trip (which only extended it), most likely because of this. It was a disgusting act, knowing the miles of Meadowlands floor those boots had traveled, but it was delicious at the time. I have no regrets.

Yum!

It was now time to depart, having finished the first third of this Odyssey …

What could have been …

Sadly, my camera died right after I took this last picture. The next picture we tried to get was of Kasikov doing a Playboy pose while lying down in that same filth. It was fucking hilarious. I’ll never forget it, but unfortunately you’ll never get to see it …

Truck on up to Buffalo …