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.
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 A Little 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?
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?
I'd be interested to see how sales are for commemorative Super Bowl XL items.
Like the rest of America, I was anxiously awaiting the return of Mr. Romance himself, Fabio, in a highly touted commercial for Nationwide Investments.
Mick Jagger in a spangled tuxedo and gym shoes.
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."
They must hate America.
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.
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:
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.
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 sun hasn’t yet risen, and already I’m dreading tonight’s Pizza Hut commercial with Jessica Simpson.
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.‿
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.
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.
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.
I have learned that the Super Bowl trophy is made by my beloved Tiffany & Co.
Nobody told me there was a hair controversy surrounding this game! Now, that’s something I can get passionate about. Steelers safety Troy Polamalu has been persecuted for his long, wild hair, which could get yanked on the playing field.
Acting on a tip, I Googled “Super Bowl drinking games.‿ If you thought the State of the Union drinking games were fun, you’ll be passed out before kickoff.
Once again, the prices for a Super Bowl ad have set records. A 30-second spot this year went for $2.5 million. Press releases promise that the commercials will feature pirates, monkeys, “the Whopperettes,‿ Fabio, and a gyrating Jessica Simpson.
The worst part of working the Super Bowl shift is missing out on the alternate programming. With pre-game coverage starting at 1:30 p.m., there’s no way to catch a marathon on another channel. Which is a shame, because TV marathons appeal to the efficient-compulsive in me.
It may surprise you to learn that I am not a sports fan. Every time I think I might vaguely be identifying with a team, whether it’s because they’re scrappy underdogs or because their helmets are sparkly, my brain pipes up and reminds me, “You don’t know those people.‿
You say it’s a high-stakes game. I say it’s just another pointless exercise that doesn’t affect me, but does contribute to the unforgivable pandemic of man jewelry (those heinous rings!). So it’s hard to muster up anything resembling enthusiasm.
I don’t watch the Super Bowl for the game. I don’t really watch it for the ads, either.
If we’re being honest, I watch it for the ranch vegetable dip.
And when it’s gone, I’m gone.
So in choosing a team to root for in the Super Bowl, I try to get creative.
