Monday, February 8, 2010

My Super Bowl Hangover

For me, watching Super Bowl IVMMCLVCMXXX, was like watching Dick Cheney and Rush Limbaugh mudwrestling. There's nobody to cheer for. You end up sitting there and hoping they both choke to death on slop.

The teams and their stars both stink.

Team: Indiannapolis Colts
The Indiannapolis Colts snuck out of Baltimore in the middle of the night and then kept their name and their right to conjur up the image of Johnny U. All their faithful fans back in Baltimore could go to hell.

Star: Peyton Manning
Peyton Manning is a douche bag. Could the guy say no to one frickin' sponsor? Can he say, "I'd like to endorse your hemroid suppositories but why not ask Joseph Addai?"

And watching Brother Eli celebrate after every touchdown is sickening. How come we didn't get to watch Eli and the hot blonde crying after the game? My friend SleehRat calls them Goober and Gomer and I wish I had thunk it.

Team: New Orleans Saints
The Saints may be worse. The owner Tom Benson hates New Orleans. He tried to use the horror of Hurricane Katrina as an excuse to move the Saints to his hometown of San Antonio. The NFL had to use bribes and threats to get him to go back to New Orleans.

Star: Drew Brees
Drew Brees is a selfish, Scrooge-like prick. He sees no reason for current players to assist in setting up a system to help out former players. Former players that helped create the incredibly successful league that they all cash in on now. Former players that are now suffering from bad knees, bad health and brain injuries.

Drew Brees should suffer a career ending blow to his head, loose his (hopefully) un-guaranteed millions in salary and endorsements, get turned down by the disability board, have his model/wife leave him for greener pastures and then bad-mouth disabled, former players that had to work second jobs during careers that lasted less than 10 years.

No wonder I drank too much. Good game. though.


  1. Bobby,

    Super Bowl Sunday in Hell. The big red guy put those Clockwork Orange clamps on our eyes and made us watch the 12 hours of pre-game analysis. I think Dan Marino is smuggling Mexican families into the country in those bags under his eyes!

    When the game starts, Satan switches over to Oxygen! Then he Tivos the Bud Light commercials and makes us watch them all, consecutively. Nixon broke down and weeped.

    Then we had to watch two old hags pretending to be The Who. That's when I passed out from the pain.


  2. Bill,

    Thanks for the comment!

    Can you explain how a guy, Pete Townshend, that has played 1000's of gigs, ends up wearing clothes that constantly got in the way of his guitar playing and exposed his 70 year old belly to 106 million viewers?

  3. Bobby,

    I don't know the answer but I will ask Pete when he gets down here.

    You can't spit around here without hitting a pedopile or a Republican.

    BTW, Falwell has the runs so today I get to play 18 with President Ronald Reagan!!! (Nixon hates him so it's going to be fun.)

    I'll bring my Blackberry.


  4. I hate the hangover, specially if you're enjoying the super bowl. it's something atypical, but you're right... all is about imagination, we'll visit the blog more often to see each edition, update and any release about all this issue.