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Like most people watching the show, I found myself thinking how much I’d like to see Tom Brady and Matt Damon having hot monkey sex. Wouldn’t that be fine? I wouldn’t have to be involved. I’m not greedy. I don’t belong in such a mix, I know. I’m not unrealistic about these things. I just want to be in the room. Maybe Donovan McNabb and I could sit in the corner and call the shots.
Mmmmmm. Donovan McNabb.
Actually, like most people watching the show, I was also having serious towel-boy fantasies involving Donovan, but that’s another blog.
THE PRE-SHOW: Will somebody please fill me in on this Gretchen Wilson character? Let me get this straight – she’s actually PROUD to be an old redneck whore? I don’t understand. Has the world gone mad?
The Black Eyed Peas: As far as I’m concerned, they’re just the new C + C Music Factory. Go away already.
THE COMMERCIALS: For my money, the best was undoubtably the french fry shaped like Abraham Lincoln for Mc Donalds.
The worst? The Verizon miniaturized celebrity debacle. What the hell was that? That’s not funny. That’s not comedy. Monkeys with whoopee cushions – now THAT’S comedy. Similarly, that stupid Diet Coke commercial with P. Diddy and the delivery truck. TRYING WAY TOO HARD HERE, PEOPLE. I get the problem: You’ve signed six celebrities to a commercial, and you have to tie them all together in 30 seconds. What do you do? Well, you DON’T go high concept. Keep it simple. Those T- Mobile Sidekick commercials are classic. Snoop Dogg doing his laundry? That’s gold.
The most disturbing trend? Funny deaths and injuries. The pilot chasing the Budweiser out of the plane? That really upset me. I mean, he jumped out of a plane! HE DIED. That’s just terrible! And the frozen man in the convertible? He’s dead! He froze to death! That’s an awful way to die! Oh, oh, and that Las Vegas commercial with the possibly brain-damaged boxer who doesn’t remember what he did last night? I CRIED.
Frankly, I’d rather have the titties. And titties scare the crap out of me.
THE HALF-TIME SHOW: Paul McCartney looks like an old transvestite. I don’t like him. I didn’t like the Beatles either. In fact, I just flat-out hate the ’60s. As Kent Brockman famously pointed out, “What a shrill and pointless decade.” Just a bunch of damn, dirty hippies. Everyone all hairy and unattractive. Give me the ’70s any day.
Granted, I’m a little cranky right now because I’m withdrawing from a severe Afrin addiction and can’t breathe. That stuff will kill you. I’ve been hardcore huffing decongestants for about four months now. KIDS – STAY OFF THE NASAL SPRAY! Oh, and stay in school.
– James St. James
