I’m a big-time sports girl, always have been. But it was made worse when I spent five years as a sports copy editor for the Tulsa newspaper. Don’t know if y’all know this, but football’s kind of a big deal ’round these parts.
Anyway, I missed the Super Bowl. My ex-gay husband (he’s still gay, but now married to another gay guy and no longer living with me, as that would be weird… and we were never really married, but I digress) and I were on the phone today and he asked me what I thought about the game. And I had nothing to offer.
I’m not going off on a stereotypical rant here, but when did he start watching football all religiously and I start not giving a shit? Again, I blame BlizzBeast 2011, the Thing That Should Not Be, which has made life miserable since February began.
As if February’s spelling wasn’t all stupid and French already, now it’s ruined thanks to snow. The Holofrost (I can’t take credit for that; I read it on Facebook) is still kicking my ass, and will continue doing it until Round 2 clears on Wednesday night, which will mean I have to stay at a HOTEL, away from my PRECIOUS DOG and CATS, so I can WORK, which I why I called the Ex-GH anyway, because he has to care for these poor defenseless animals in my absentia. But again, I’ve gotten tangential.
So I watched about a quarter of the Super Bowl, then had to forage for something to eat among my depleted cabinets… and I ended up making fried chicken. Yes, I know, it was hard times, huh… but I got all distracted in flour mixtures and iron skillets, and lost track of the game. Then the Packers and their foxy quarterback made it all boring by being so foxy and good, so I quit watching and turned the TV to “Big Love.”
I chose Bill Paxton over Aaaaaron Rodgers (he has too many extra letters, might as well add more) and Steelers coach Mike Tomlin, the foxiest brown man alive. OK, Benicio is hotter, but Mike is more brown. I love the spectrum of skin colors. It’s what makes me me! But Bill Paxton is not hot, and “Big Love” was recorded! What’s become of me?
But the Super Bowl is just so… overdone. And don’t get me started on that train wreck who sang the National Anthem. I think there should be a new rule. If your name is not Whitney Houston or Whitney Houston Jr., you don’t need to apply.
And if you’re WH Jr., you”ll still have to audition.
I kinda feel sorry for Fergie. I could hear her trying to sing over the obvious sound problems while my chicken was turning Golden Brown and Delicious. And I saw a few commercials. The Doritos one where the guy brings back his friend’s gramps was great.
So yeah, I saw all the really girly parts of the Super Bowl, which is kind of bizarre. Come to think of it, I only watched a few bowl games this year, and I have only watched about three quarters of hoops so far.
Could I be losing my sports edge?
I’m starting steroids. Tomorrow. If I can get out of my house. Goddamned Snow/Mongorians.