Yes, it’s here. That day of days that most of America anxiously awaits. No, it’s not that one day of the year that Jack drinks too much and takes off his clothes, I’m talking about the Super Bowl.
I grew up with a football fanatical mother. Some of my most vivid memories are of her yelling and screaming as her beloved Cleveland Browns were getting tromped. I think it scarred me for life.
In addition I get tired of hype. –insert blaring loud music– “SUNDAY, SUNDAY SUNDAY. THE GREATEST TEAMS EVER MEET ON THE GRIDIRON.” “BLAH, BLAH, BLAH”
And here’s the *real* reason I won’t be watching. It gets in the way of the commercials. I mean, hey. Have you ever watched a soccer game? I didn’t think so. Why? Besides the fact that everyone looks kinda gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that), the game can stretch as long as 10 minutes without a time-out or commercial break. How’s one supposed to deal with that. And have you ever seen a trunk monkey during a soccer game?
I’m pretty close to being out of a job
That’s it from this nut’s shell. I’m writing this on Saturday morning and it’s time for me to get ready. Rick’s having a Super Bowl party tomorrow.
Jacque – Out