Sunday, February 06, 2005

I've never understood why the Super Bowl is such a big deal. I mean, I can totally understand getting into it if a team you root for is playing. But otherwise, why? I blame it on what I lovingly refer to as "guy culture." This stupid fucking mentality that's based around beer, sports, Maxim magazine, and somehow convincing everyone that the Coors twins are hot when they aren't. Now, not that there isn't a time and place for the former two -- indeed, there are many times and places for them -- but building a lifestyle on all that isn't exactly what I'd call man's (emphasis on man) greatest achievement.

This pinnacle of this great achievement is Super Bowl Sunday, which is, apparently, the biggest event of the year in many mens' lives. Just to be clear, there's nothing wrong with sitting down and watching the game or something. It is the Lord's day, after all, the single worst fucking day of the week when you know you have to go back to work the next day and all the goddamn stores close early. But there are so many guys who really -- needlessly -- get into it. Not guys who are fans of either team. Not guys who are degenerate gamblers with their mortgages, kids' college money, and very lives riding on the outcome of the game. Just regular guys with no vested interest whatsoever. I dunno, perhaps being a sad excuse for a man prevents me from understanding it, but I just don't.

Just a quick aside since we're on the subject of football, but Terry Bradshaw needs to be put to sleep. I'd like it if his exit was slow and painful, but honestly, as long as you get him outta here I'll be happy. There are few bigger retards out there than Bradshaw. Well, sadly, there are, but Bradshaw is up there. As was once famously said about him, he's so stupid that he "couldn't spell 'cat' if you spotted him the C and the A." He's also never going to get over his bitterness that John Elway, who had the audacity to spurn the Colts because he didn't want to play there, turned out to be a much better quarterback than Bradshaw. Knowing that that pisses ol' Terry off is pretty funny

Back to the Super Bowl, I know that its popularity isn't driven entirely by guys. There are plenty of people who attend the Super Bowl simply because they're rich and they can. That's fine; I can understand that. I'm sure it's one big social event for them, so whatever. Then there are lots of people who tune in to watch the game specifically for the advertisements. This I cannot get on board with anymore because the commercials have been bloody lame for the past several years, and this year was no exception. What was once the source for the most creative, humorous, and entertaining ads (in the U.S., that is) is now just a string of tired and uninspired normal commercials. Of course, the ads were purposely toned down this year, thanks to everyone's fright that the FCC will come after them thanks to the newer, stronger puritanical mindset that we have in this country.

Yeah, it's been a whole year since the partially exposed tit of someone who no one cares about anymore was shown on national TV for a split second, irrevocably damaging children and altering human history. After last year's Reichstag fire, we've seen a marvelous string of threats and de facto censorship being pushed upon media and entertainment, led by Michael Powell and enthusiastically endorsed by Christian conservatives.

Working to ensure that we didn't see a repeat of last year, Super Bowl attendees and viewers were treated to Paul McCartney. That's right, everyone! Paul McCartney! A guy so fucking old and so not good anymore that he's the perfect cure for anything entertaining. Why doesn't that guy just stay home and bang his much younger wife? If I had no need for the money and I had younger poon back at home, I wouldn't fucking bother leaving the house -- especially if there was a chance my hip would go out from my onstage "dancing" (although I suppose staying home has that potential, too).

You know who I think should be the halftime entertainment for every major sporting event from here on out? Ashlee Simpson. Considering her reception at the Orange Bowl this year, I figure that if you keep putting her out there, it's only a matter of time before angry fans rush the stage and eat her alive. What is the fucking deal with Ashlee Simpson? Sure, she's untalented, but she's also not attractive by any stretch. To be famous, I really think you should have one or the other at bare minumum. Her sister, while also untalented and stupid, was at least hot back before she started decomposing. But Ashlee? Just like with Super Bowl fever, I don't get it, unless if her fame came about as a result of a bet or a dare between some record company execs.

Through all of this, I haven't even talked about the worst part of Super Bowl XXXIX -- the game itself. Sweet Jesus was that one fucking boring game. It isn't just that I didn't care about who was playing or what the outcome was, it's that the game transcended all of that to the point where I could have gotten more of a hardon for what was happening watching golf. I fell asleep sometime during the fourth quarter, the only thing keeping me awake up to that point was the bitching and mockery (you know, the usual) that we had going. We weren't alone in our displeasure, as they showed a shot of Clinton hanging out up in his box, and he seemed to be in much the same state. Probably thinking "Damn, I could be out getting some pussy right about now, but I'm stuck watching this shit."

Sadly, I think the Pro Bowl next week has more potential to be interesting. The fucking Pro Bowl. Somehow, though, I think I'm gonna end up missing that one. Call it a hunch. Either way, I'm just glad football season is over, at lest until training camp starts in two weeks.

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