Looking over my shoulder for McCarthy...
I watched the Superbowl last night, and I thought the whole thing was just kind of boring. I worked from 12 - 5 PM yesterday, and we had the pregame commentary on the entire time in the store. Turns out, I don't even care what kind of grass they use for the field. I will admit: I'm not an NFL fan, but I feel highly un-American if I don't watch the Bowl of Super and its commercials. But please give me any college football bowl game to watch instead. Give me any NCAA tourney game to watch instead. Give me any playoff ML baseball game to watch instead. (But don't give me any Stanley Cup or important NBA game...I'd just give those back).
There was a big discussion during last night's halftime show on whether or not the Stones should continue performing live. I, for one, am on the Stones side when it comes to The Beatles vs. The Stones debate. ("Honky Tonk Women" may or may not be my theme song). But even I had to admit last night that Mick and the boys were looking a little ridiculous. Mick's midriff top, sequined belt, and skinny pants were looking a little dated...or like they came from an 8-year old girl's closet. I especially liked the extra flab that hung and swayed from the drummer's upper arms as he kept the beat to "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction." You only get that kind of entertainment from bands that have been kicking since Noah built the ark.
Maybe even more un-American than thinking the Bowl of Super was a snooze and the Stones should consider hanging up their live performance hats, is the fact that over the last week, I've developed a strong disliking for Ms. Oprah Winfrey. Oprah totally wants herself. After watching clips of her with James Frey and Dave Chapelle, I want to kick her in the crotch. I have nothing intelligent or credible to write because my anger hinders my ability to think like a rational human.
THANK YOU, SUPERBOWL!
There was a big discussion during last night's halftime show on whether or not the Stones should continue performing live. I, for one, am on the Stones side when it comes to The Beatles vs. The Stones debate. ("Honky Tonk Women" may or may not be my theme song). But even I had to admit last night that Mick and the boys were looking a little ridiculous. Mick's midriff top, sequined belt, and skinny pants were looking a little dated...or like they came from an 8-year old girl's closet. I especially liked the extra flab that hung and swayed from the drummer's upper arms as he kept the beat to "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction." You only get that kind of entertainment from bands that have been kicking since Noah built the ark.
Maybe even more un-American than thinking the Bowl of Super was a snooze and the Stones should consider hanging up their live performance hats, is the fact that over the last week, I've developed a strong disliking for Ms. Oprah Winfrey. Oprah totally wants herself. After watching clips of her with James Frey and Dave Chapelle, I want to kick her in the crotch. I have nothing intelligent or credible to write because my anger hinders my ability to think like a rational human.
THANK YOU, SUPERBOWL!
posted by quank at 10:38 AM
2 Comments:
Instead of kicking Oprah in the crotch you should kick Stedman in the crotch.
Kicking Oprah in the crotch probably wouldn't hurt her because she has so much front-butt flesh (or a F.U.P.A. or a Frass, in alternatvie parlance).
I'm inclined to say that although the Stones' performances continue to erode away, they should be allowed to do whatever they want because of their prior greatness. I'm jussayin. I would certainly dance in a sequinned shirt and belt for the kind of dough they rake in.
Fuck U2.
I heard somebody say that if Oprah got pissed at James Frey, imagine what will happen when she figures out Dr. Phil is full of shit.
I say Oprah is more popular than Jesus.
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