Another Toilet Bowl

Two weeks from now America will be blessed with yet another Super Bowl Sunday in which the best case scenario is a terrorist attack at halftime. Before any readers get the wrong idea about my patriotism let me clarify that when I say terrorist attack I'm not referring to a suicide bomber or an anthrax envelope but more of a surgically enhanced titty terrorist attack. That's right, the only positive outcome, as I can see, is if Tom Petty exposes himself while performing Yer So Bad. Which says a lot about this super bowl.

Somehow the Super Bowl has become an unofficial holiday here in America, and while I don't need an explanation for how that happened, I would appreciate at least a nod of confirmation that I'm not crazy for thinking it's ridiculous. Let's examine what we have to look forward to when The Patriots play the Giants:

1) Approximately 150 hours of television coverage before the game covering every uninteresting aspect of every boring player and coach on each team. Did you know the Giants special teams coach has a daughter who goes to college in New England and has split loyalties? You will in about a week, and no, you won't care. Have you contemplated the sheer torture of the fifteen minute segment about the Patriots offensive line you will watch sometime before February 2nd? Start contemplating now. What about the ineluctable piece on Randy Moss that follows him around Virginia and catches up with his high school friends and neighborhood drug dealers? Okay, that piece will be really good, but my point remains the same, which is this: political chicanery, corporate crime, and violent acts should all be investigated with, as they say, no stone left unturned; when it comes to Super Bowl reporting, the more stones unturned the better.

2) The slurping of Tom Brady, Bill Belichick, and Eli Manning. Acting like Tom Brady sucks is reserved for the desperate and brainless, and Belichick, though obviously the Dick Cheney of the NFL, is a genius, so both of them get grudging respect. It's the Manning hype that will wear me down most. His dad played quarterback in the NFL. His brother plays quarterback in the NFL. He plays quarterback in the NFL. In 100 years when the Eagles finally appear in another Super Bowl vs. the Beijing Sweatshops for the Lombardi Trophy there will surely be a spawn of Manning in that game as well. We get it!! The family pops out meathead football players at an amazing rate, that's great. Now move on and leave us in peace.

3) A pre-game show that will literally last 10 hours. I have no idea who watches all this pre-game flummery but if it's you, please stop reading, go to the bathroom, look into the mirror, and see for yourself what a grade-A dipshit looks like.

4) A national anthem ceremony as tasteful as the interior decorating to Tony Montana's house and as subtle as his stash of cocaine. Someday in the near future the Super Bowl will be blown up, and as one billion horrified onlookers assume it's Iran or North Korea, I'm telling you here first that it was Jim McFinckle, the NFL's Head Fireworks Guru, who measured the amount of TNT incorrectly.

5) Which reminds me, you will be constantly reminded that there are one billion people watching, which I think is made up.

6) The game starts. The Patriots win. Thirty new commercials will play during timeouts. One or two will be good. The rest will be trucks adds with choruses you will hum against your own will, beer commercials with washed up retro-celebs, and totally confusing advertisements for online services that aren't real. The money spent on all the commercials could have solved a lot of problems in the world, specifically my student loans, but that thought shrinks to nothing next to The Patriots being maybe the greatest team in football history not coached by Goldie Hawn. And the rest of the night will be spent dealing with that reality. Football. Wildcats. And yes I will watch the Super Bowl because what else the fuck would I do that day?


Additional thoughts:

-Sammy D put up another double-double on Saturday against Toronto. He's doing the bull dance, feeling the flow, working it.

-Starting tomorrow morning yours truly will be hosting a radio show on gtownradio.com. I will play good music so at least when you are depressed on Monday morning you will have my Barry White voice to accompany you. Monday mornings, 9-11am. And the name is If It Ain't Broke, which pretty much sucks so send name suggestions.