Super Bowl? More Like "Super Crap"

This year, I am watching the Super Bowl for the first time. Usually, I just go to a Super Bowl party; get drunk; flirt shamelessly with all the single men; flirt covertly with the hostess's boyfriend; and end the evening getting sick in the bathroom. God, I love Super Bowl parties!

This year, however, I did not get invited to any Super Bowl parties. I tried to invite myself to several parties, but Cynthia said her party is for singles only (bitch ho) and Geraldo said he could not invite me to his party because Ralph might tag along (yeah, I understand - Ralph is a considerable liability).

So I am at home alone, watching the Super Crap. You know, I usually joke about how I love a man in spandex ... but, I guess I never looked very closely. Look, spandex is for gymnasts, lithe ballerinas, and Prince. God did not intend fat men with saggy butts and love handles to wear spandex.



I thought a bottle of vodka would improve the game. It did - briefly - but then the halftime show started.

Is it just me, or was that the most uncomfortable halftime show ever? Whoever thought it would be a good idea to have The Who play the Super Crap halftime show should be shot and then fired. They are like 90 years old. The whole thing made me Super Anxious because I thought the singer was just going to drop dead right there on the stage. Although in retrospect, that would have been pretty cool.