SOUTH BEND, IN — In the grand scheme of things, there’s simply nothing worse than a Super Bowl Party. College student Alyssa came face to face with this reality earlier this month, at her first college S.B.P. (Shitty Boys Party). During the tenth mansplaination of the “nuances of football,” Alyssa realized something that was troubling, but altogether beautiful: Super Bowl parties are inherently oppressive. They are little more than a dick measuring contest, a pathetic attempt to assert who is who in the realm of understanding America’s most popular sport. Yet, there is one shining upside amongst the grim, testosterone-filled darkness. Spinach dip. Creamy, cheesy, unassuming goodness. Masked with the healthiness of spinach, saved by the grace of sour cream. It’s the comfort every down-to-earth girl needs, as she slogs through another half quarter third touchdown. I encourage each and every one of you to try and replicate Alyssa’s bravery. Absolutely demolish those delicious dips. Hold back no mercy. And know that you are all the better for it.