Feel free to keep commenting on the commercials all night long. I may pass out on the floor at some point from a combination of prolonged excitement and pepperoni. Don't mind me.
And please join me again Oscar weekend for what will be, if possible, an even more frivolous journey into the blogosphere. Let’s try to keep the “Brokeback Mountain‿ jokes to a minimum. And I’m thinking Chinese food, does that sound good?
While I think it's time to retire the "priceles" MasterCard ads (won’t it be cool someday when we’ve all forgotten the hackneyed concept, and out of nowhere, someone will bust out a random "priceless" reference, and it’ll be totally retro and hilarious?), I got a kick out of the "MacGyver" ad. Turkey basters are funny.
Seeing Richard Dean Anderson with nasal spray and a tube sock in the convenience store checkout line was truly inspired.
But wouldn’t you have assumed that MacGyver pays cash?
I loved, loved, loved the Emerald Nuts ad. If you missed it, they turned their name into a mnemonic device, and then dramatized the results:
Eagle-Eyed Machete Enthusiasts Recognize ALittle Druid Networking Under The Stairs.
Nice! For my money, the concepts of “druids‿ and “networking‿ are equally funny. Put them together, and you’ve got a laugh riot.
Emerald Nuts has at least two other ads planned along these lines. Can you spot the phrases they came up with, and the ones I made up?
Engrossed Manicurists Eventually Relay Advice Like Do Not Untie That String
Eccentric Matadors Exercising Religiously And Littering Do Not Use the Steamroller
Eleven Midgets Earn Really Anxious Looks During Naughtiness Under the Sheets
Eerie Mannequins Eat Raw Asparagus, Leisurely Dunking Nachos Up Their Sleeves
Does anyone else have a crush on the Smithe brothers from the Walter E. Smithe ads?
OK, probably not you, Vlad. But I think they're adorable in a class-president kind of way. It takes courage to be that corny. I vividly remember when one of the brothers put on a Donald Trump wig to parody "The Apprentice"... and when the three of them sang along to their little jingle...
Maybe Pepsi should consider getting the Smithe boys onboard.
Why haven't there been any good touchdown dances in this game? Are they passe? Don't football players like to demonstrate their joie de vivre anymore? Is it wrong to use French phrases to describe the Super Bowl?
Like the rest of America, I was anxiously awaiting the return of Mr. Romance himself, Fabio, in a highly touted commercial for Nationwide Investments.
Yawn.
While I enjoyed Fabio’s gondoliering, it seems as though potential was squandered. The last time he was in the news, Fabio had been hit in the face by a goose while riding a roller coaster.
When you’ve got Fabio as your spokesman, how do you NOT somehow involve a goose?
Oh, I kid. I thought he looked nice. His black tee was dangerously close to being a belly shirt, though.
ABC silently bleeped him twice that I counted. I wonder if they'll have any flashbacks to being forced to sing "Let's Spend Some Time Together" on "The Ed Sullivan Show."
Planning to stay up all night verbally jousting with me? There's a group at www.superbowlmonday.com urging us to write our congressmen to get tomorrow declared a national holiday.
I’m pleasantly surprised by the Seahawks’ uniforms. It’s called “Seahawks Blue,‿ Google tells me, and it’s not navy -- not midnight -- not gray, really. I’d call it “Stormy, With a Soupcon of Shimmer.‿ Props to them for realizing that the monochromatic look is the way to go. It just conveys a cleaner line.
I hate to jump on Suzy Kolber, but I thought she looked a little stuffy on the sidelines. Does that jacket breathe? She might want to look into St. John Knits… Angelina Jolie is their new spokeswoman, you know.
During the pre-game show, I couldn’t help but notice that commentator Michael Irvin may not be worthy (yet) of the Hall of Fame, but the wide receiver had quite a snappy, wide tie. Why are so many professional athletes such dandy dressers? Is it because they could crush any critics with a single head butt? Or is it because they’ve spent so much time in shiny, tight pants?
The much-buzzed-about GoDaddy.com ad aired. Yawn. Another burst shoulder strap! It might have been racy in 1952… Had breast implants been invented yet? Is that what GoDaddy sells?
Attention, people: Go ahead and comment here on any miscellaneous ads I haven't had a chance to post on yet, mmmkay?
Some random reactions:
*Budweiser's p.r. firm deserves every penny. I'm going to be fantasizing about a "magic fridge" all night.
*What do you think it costs you to get a Jay Mohr as your spokesman?
*I hate FedEx because they lost my aerobed -- long story -- and it kills me to give them any publicity, but... cavemen are funny.
*It seems relevant to note that former 7-Up pitchman Orlando Jones has a new, grownup job: the television series "The Evidence." And he gets to co-star with the (newly single) Rob Estes! Was anyone else out there as passionate as me about "Silk Stalkings"?
*I'm not an expert, but are battery-powered razors a good idea?
*I was prepared to be annoyed by the "Desperate Housewives" spots, but I'm getting a kick out of them.
*Both Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy scored endorsements this year. Overexposed! Why don't the cool Muppets get any love? Do Gonzo and Animal have lousy agents, or what?
*They've remade "The Poseidon Adventure"? With Josh Lucas? Who will probably have to film many scenes while soaking wet? I'm a happy girl.
During the Stevie Wonder pre-game concert, one of India.Arie's backup singers burst a dress strap. Did you see her, in the bright yellow dress? Bless her, she clutched at her shoulder and danced her little heart out for the rest of the number. I'm guessing, though, that at this point Super Bowl officials at least inspect their personnel for nipple jewelry. She probably was wearing a family-friendly support bra. A demi-cup at the very worst.
(Aside: Why do I feel stupid typing the "dot" in India.Arie? If that's your marketing gimmick, more power to you; but must you involve me as an accomplice?)
I will admit that my pre-game watching was spotty. I have never, ever been able to resist an airing of "Miss Congeniality" on TBS, and I'm not going to start now.
There seems to be no real equivalent to the pre-Oscars red carpet ritual to grab me. Instead, there were inspiring tales of young people overcoming disabilities. I tend to skip those features in People magazine, too.
One bright spot: I loved the Temptations-esque backup dancers for John Legend. I loved them beyond reason. Maybe if they had those guys on the sidelines, spinning in unison next to the cheerleaders, more women would be football fans.
The introduction of MVPs from Super Bowls past was a little depressing to me. Did anyone else feel that Joe Namath resembled "The Godfather's" Moe Green? And as all the champs paraded onto the field, I couldn't help but notice: They were limping.
I went to the store this morning to get some non-drowsy cold medication so I wouldn’t nod off during the second quarter. Didn’t get that. All the choice Sudafed was only available by postrating yourself before the pharmacist and trying to act as though you had no idea how to brew up some bulk crystal meth, which I actually don’t, and no, I don’t think I sound defensive, and the pharmacy was closed anyway.
Instead, I bought:
The Red Baron’s Ultimate Pepperoni Pizza (thin crust)
3 varieties of Tostitos: Scoops, Crispy Rounds, and Bite Size Gold
Chi Chi’s salsa
2 Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut bars (large)
One of those prepackaged cheese-cube and beef-stick extravaganzas, strictly because the plastic dish was shaped like a football. I hate myself.
But at least I should now have the sustenance to see this blog through to the Super Bowl’s bloody climax. When you’re situating yourself on the sofa, I recommend the following: salty snacks directly to your right; chilled beverages on the left; hot hors d’oeuvres at about two o’clock; and me on your laptop, front and center.
Write me if you think any of the commercials are worth $2.5 million. Or if you see the John 3:16 sign in the stands. Or if you see a player’s wife attacking the John 3:16 sign.
The sun hasn’t yet risen, and already I’m dreading tonight’s Pizza Hut commercial with Jessica Simpson.
I realize that my passionate anger toward sister Ashlee Simpson probably says more about me than it does about her. God, I hate her, and what has she ever done to me? She bravely battled acid reflux disease and lived to write lyrics taunting Lindsay Lohan. You’d think I’d be a fan.
And I was OK with Jessica for a while, I really was. I guess I found the little shawl she’d wear on “Newlyweds‿ endearing.
But the over-the-top sexuality has finally done it for me. Red boots, short shorts, fishnets? Congratulations on the double D’s, but do you have wear a bra that hoists them over your head?
Previews of the Pizza Hut ad show Jessica reprising her “Dukes of Hazzard‿ look -- bumping, strutting, cooing, and then tossing food into the mouth of some lust-struck sap.
What am I missing? Is it really sexy to have to try that hard?
I’m a sucker for all the alternate bowls inspired by the Super Bowl this time of year. It’s nice to see Bud Bowl going strong, of course. And the results of Wing Bowl, a Philadelphia chicken-wing-eating contest, are in: 22-year-old Joey Chestnut first qualified for the event by chugging a gallon of milk in 41 seconds, and then heartily consumed 173 wings to take home the title (and a very silly-looking crown). The AP story notes that many strippers were in attendance, as well as “several sickened contestants.‿
The Animal Planet channel has scheduled Puppy-Bowl II to compete with the big game. Yes, adorable puppies, rolling around in a pretend-stadium, instant replay at the ready. I don’t want to say too much about the half-time show; I will tell you that the press materials promise, “It’s kind of like kittens gone wild.‿
And then there’s Lingerie Bowl III. Disappointingly, Jenny McCarthy and “American Idol’s‿ Ryan Starr are not competing. Thrillingly, my favorite post-modern celebu-tart is: Trishelle Cannatella!
You know her from “The Real World: Las Vegas,‿ “The Surreal Life 2,‿ “Battle of the Network Reality Stars,‿ “Kill Reality,‿ “Celebrity Poker Showdown,‿ “Real World/Road Rules Challenge: The Inferno,‿ “Playboy: Girls of Reality TV," and “William Hung: Hangin’ With Hung.‿
If you don't know her, then I don't know you.
Her official Lingerie Bowl biography highlights the fact that she was captain of her sorority’s flag football team. Her official Lingerie Bowl photograph captures her -- oiled up -- in pink kneepads.
She’s going to destroy the cotton-candy competition. Go NY Euphoria!
Now that I am officially a member of the blogging community, I try to support my favorite blogs as vehemently as possible. Sort of a virtual Neighborhood Watch program. (Debra Pickett: Has your friend checked out poshtots.com? Eric Zorn: Were you really in an origami club? Were there competitions?)
So it was with glee that I discovered Tom Arnold’s Super Bowl blog. While I’m not sure he grasps the finer points of the Cover Two defense, I think he may be my sports soul mate.
His Friday night posting included details on what he ate (steak smothered in crab meat), how he spends his money (he’s bought seven engagement rings over the years), and the phrase “My man Snoop Dogg was spitting rhymes at Tiger Stadium.‿ It’s like we’re the same person. I loved Arnold in “Happy Endings.‿ Who knew he was such a conversational, entertaining writer?
So my heart dropped when I read this in his blog: “I saw this weasel writer from Chicago that I once made nice with and shook his hand at the Super Bowl in Houston only to have him write ‘Tom Arnold came up and shook my hand, like we know each other.’‿
Somebody was mean to Tom Arnold! From our city! In writing! I tried to find out who it was, but didn’t have any luck with Google or Nexis. I feel great shame for Chicago. If you know who the culprit was, tell me. I’ll snub him for life.
I’m looking forward to half-time this year, when the Rolling Stones will perform (I’m familiar with some of their hits). But you’ve got to wonder if they’re kind of insulted they weren’t invited before this. Up With People has already played the Super Bowl. Four times. And New Kids on the Block got there 15 years ago.
Already been there, performed that:
The Florida A&M Band
The Rockettes (with 88 grand pianos)
Brian Boitano
Jim Belushi
Boyz II Men
Enrique Iglesias
Justin Timberlake. Twice.
The Super Bowl also seems to have done away with half-time themes, which is disappointing. They always had the same Lame Quotient as a Midwestern turnabout dance theme. “Winter Magic.‿ “Take Me Higher.‿ “Beat of the Future.‿ What were the rejected themes?
Never once have the producers taken into account that they are programming entertainment for a football game. Football, in which enormous men run into each other with their heads. Wouldn’t punk music be a better fit? Maybe a little gangsta rap?
I left a message for my brother Scott, begging him for some inside information on Jerome Bettis. They were roommates in college. Surely he could remember something that could affect the outcome of the game.
“That was more than 15 years ago,‿ he said when he called back, and kept trying to tell me about Jerome’s football record. This did not interest me in the least.
I did glean these items:
*They would order two-for-one pizza deals from Domino’s or Papa John’s so they would not have to share.
*Jerome originally wanted to be an engineer. Scott says that he was very intelligent and that he “probably could do anything he wanted to.‿
*Scott swears he once heard Jerome sing along to “The Little Mermaid.‿
