Go Seagulls! Dan’s Super Bowl Slog
3:10 PM: It’s only 3:10, and the game doesn’t start until 3:25, but things are already underway, it seems. I just turned on the TV and the audience is waving what look like—there’s no nice way to put this—come towels. They’re yellow, these come towels. Are all the fans waving them? Is it a football thing? No one was waving come towels during the playofffs—is this a Super Bowl thing exclusively? So many weird new rituals for a football notice to learn.
Oh, here comes Aretha. I just yelled “Bitch, get me a drink!” And my boyfriend brought me a drink—shit, is that Condi Rice in the audience? Doesn’t she have a war to run? Shouldn’t she be on the phone explaining “freedom of the press,” the concept and the practice, to her counterparts in the Islamic world? And who told Aretha to wear horizontal stripes? She’s too big a girl for that.
3:16: First commercial break. Ah! The Cheesey Bites pizza! It looks like little edible toes—or worse. Ads for movies. No beer commericals yet. Grey’s Anatomy—code black. Is that bad? Dr. Suess? Wha? Harrison Ford? What the fuck? Oh, my God—poor Dr. Suess is spinning in his grave. How much did they pay Ford for this? What is this a commercial for? Can we have everyone involved shot? It’s an ad for the game we’re already watching? What the fuck?
3:20: The fat guy has some advice for Seattle: basically, move the ball or toward the other team. Or something. Yack, yack, yack. Isn’t he the guy married to Kathi Lee? Didn’t he cheat on her? Who—besides Cori—could be into him?
Oh, a coin toss! That—hey, that Lofa Seagull guy is hot. The Steeler named Sean is kinda hot too. Wow, two hot football players in one game. How’d that happen? Seagulls win the toss! We will receive! We’re the bottoms!
Apparently they’re not come towels that everyone is waving—although they’re the right size, and usually comes towels are a color, because come stains white towels. A reader writes…
they are “terrible towels” and belong to steeler’s fans. wtf was up with the maudlin “bittersweet symphony” the seahawks give in before hand in order to keep their uniforms clean?
3:26: Commercial break #2… was really short. I wonder if there will be more children’s books rip-offs? Goodnight Moon?
Time for the big kickline. We have got the ball and—oh, we’re down already. The 18 Yard Line! How exciting! Someoen on the Stealers has really long hair—it looks like naturually curly hair. Is it an homage to Charles M. Schultz’s Peanuts? Someone in the room tells me that the Seagulls are all about tempo—he read it in the New Yorrk Times. Yay! We caught the ball! Youch! One of our Gulls got knocked over by some of their Stealers!
Oh, our quarterback threw the ball but no one was there to catch it! This is not good! Now our quarterback got knocked over! A man in white pants is saying something! In the replay it looks like one of those little yellow come rags got thrown on the field. Now we’re punting. Is punting good?
Commercial Break: Bud Light—it’s a riot in the office. We liked that commercial! Do women who look like that eat Whoppers? Do they make Whoppers out of women who look like that? Wow! That meat woman was disgusting! Wow! Its’ a woman sandwhich!
During the break Terry asked if the “Mariner’s fumbled.” “No,” another fag said, “they got sacked.” Which is not what I think happened at all. Still, “sacked” sounds like a good alternative term for teabagging, don’t you think?
In Comments, Dyke says… “the girl sandwich was creepy.” If your girl sandwhich doesn’t appeal to the Lesbian Community, there’s something wrong with your girl sandwhich, no?
3:36: The other guys, the Stealers, have the ball. They have not yet shown Paul Allen, which is good. Now the Stealers have to punt. Their punter is cute. Okay, we’ve got the ball. And now our ball-getting has been tackled—time for some commercials!
Commercial Break:Seirra Mist commercial—it’s got this brown-haired guy in it, a commedian, that I can’t decide if I think is cute or not. Bruce Willis looks like a guy whose ex-wife would marry a teenager.
UPDATE: A reader writes…
The commedien was Michael Ian Black. He was on VH1’s I Love The XX’s series. I think he’s kind of cute. If you search for his name on Yahoo one of the other suggestions they give you is Michael Ian Black gay… I’m think his sexuality has been questioned before.
3:41: Our quarterback slid—he doesn’t want to get tackled, because he’s a huge pussy. Man, what a pussy. Whoa! Big yellow butt shot! There are four fags in the room watching the game, and one straight guy. How does that feel? “I feel bad, because it seems that you guys all know more about this than I do.” Why does our quarterback run backwards before he throws the ball forward? How does that help? Apparently we made the ten-yardy-thing we have to make to keep the ball.
More come towels being waved around. That’s so gay.
Oh! Our QB threw the ball, but no one caught it. We are very sad. We are kciking the ball away. There is a great deal of punting in this game, and very little scoring.
Commercial Break: A car thing. People living at the same times as dinasours—clearly outreach to the creationists. They like football. Bear chasing straight guys— clearly a beer commercial. Bud Light. They spend so much marketing their beer—it seems that the worse a beer is, the more money has to be spent to market it.
3:48: This game is not as exciting as the penultimate game. There was a lot of scoring in that game—a lot of our guys in their end zones. This time, nothing. What’s with the little talking heads? The other guys still have the ball. Maybe soon the Stealers will have to punt. Oh, they’re punting now. So many punts today! We have the ball! Oh, goodie! Time for more commercials!
Commercial Break: London’s Parliment explodes—very Independence Day. Diet Pepsi. Apparently Diet Pepsi is a rapper now. Brownandbubbly.com. Oh, there’s P. Squiddy, or whatever the hell he’s called now. Okay, another commercial for the game we’re watching—this one starring the Stealer with the naturally curly hair. He seems very sensitive. Back to the game!
3:54: One of our guys, with the ball, just basically tripped over one of their guys. Which seems rather unathletic of them. “I think the Seagulls are playing a little bit better,” someone just said. We’re going to lose now. No, wait! We’re going to win! Touchdown! No, wait. We didn’t get a touchdown. We got… a yellow come towel thrown at us. Oh, too bad. We are going to lose. Another ball is thrown to another Gull in the scoring place, but—oh!—we couldn’t catch the ball! Another not-a-touchdown. But we “got on the board first,” with one of those kicks-that-score three points.
Commercial Break: It’s Leonard Neemoy. (sp?) Hee-hee men sneaking beers on their roofs, because their castrating wives won’t let them drink beer in the house! It’s so tough to be a married straight guy—so much is taken from you. But thankfully other straight guys understand, and there is a straight guy underground. Tips about how to sneak beers are shared there.
4:01: We’re back in the game! Their QB just thew the ball to one of his ball-catchers, but our ball-catcher-knocker-downers knocked him down! And that is the way the game is played! And again! Our ball-catch-preventers prevented the catching of a ball! And we are still in the lead! Again, the Stealers QB throws the ball, and no one is there to catch it! The ball is uncaught! We are still in the lead! And that ends the first quarter!
Commercial Break: Now Diet Pepsi is an action-movie star. I wish they would show that Harrison Ford/Dr. Suess thing again. Some stoned people showed up and watching it would, I’m sure, kill these stoners dead. On to Miller Light—another not-so-good-beer that they have to spend shitloads of money convincing people to drink.
The Second Quarter Begins—4:07: We have the ball. Does anything that female commentator says make sense? I hope we get to see John Madden defibrilated before the end of the game. We’re on their 30, or our 30, I don’t know. And… the throw, and we catch! Yay for the Hawks!
Incidentally, my guests are drinking Danish beer. I am drinking Lillet, le Aperatif de Bordeaux. It is delicious.
Oh, we missed the ball! Goldangit. Now we must punt. Now more commercials… that preview for Grey’s Anatomy makes it look like a late ER episode—you know, when every week it’s gotta be something—terrorists, ebola, helicopters crashing. Ho-hum, just another day at the office.
4:15 Back to the game. The Stealers have the ball, and they’re ball-thrower is actually getting the ball to their ball-catchers. This is not good. Oh, good a monkey commercial! Smoking monkey! Jumping monkey. The message—get a job some place where you don’t have to work with monkies. I would love to work with monkies! Except the smoking monkies. Gross.
4:23: Hey, one of our ball-catchers caught a ball intended for one of their ball-catchers! This is called an intercession. Only Popes and ball-catchers can do this. So it’s time for a commercial. Mission Impossible 3! Truman Capote is the villian! Oh, the Dove Self-Esteem Fund! Maybe the Dove Self-Esteem Fund can provide counseling to all the girls who were traumatized by the Burger King girl-Whopper commercial. You are not a piece of meat, girls! Well, not unless you’re hot.
4:28: We have got the ball but we are far, far from the place where touchdowns occur. Someone was standing in front of me. Either we punted or they interceded. You know, we’re getting close to half-time, and we’re still ahead three-to-nothing. Now a commercial for a Tim Allen movie—they’re always quality, those Tim Allen meetings. Ford has a hybrid SUV.
Oh, my God… a Michalob (sp?) commercial in which a woman is basically body-slammed. Considering the supposed connection between the Super Bowl and domestic violence, which may or may not have been debunked (someone Google it and email me what you find), aren’t commercials that make light of men doing grave bodily harm to women in poor taste?
4:30: The Stealers QB almost completed a touchdown pass! See, I’m getting the lingo! Still, no touchdowns in this game, and we’re still in the lead. But they’re getting close to our swimsuit area. Oh, now they’re very, very close to our swimsuit area. I have a feeling that a Stealers’ touchdown may be in the offing.
Commercial Break: Go Daddy!
4:36: They’re at our one yard line! No! No! NOOOOOO! Depends! Depends! Depends!
Commercial Break: The new Posedian—no “adventure” this time. And no Shelley Winters. Wouldn’t you like to buy some razors?
4:40: Touchdown! The Stealers are now in the lead! John Madden saw it coming, of course. Wait! No, way! That was not a touchdown! The guy moved the ball! The play is being reviewed “upstairs,” which gives us time for one of those fucking freaking “All about the O” Overstock.com commercials. Touchdown! We was robbed! They wouldn’t get away with this if Shelley Winters was still alive!
Commercial Break: Disney World sucks.
4:46: We have the ball, the Stealers have the leads. The halftime of the Rocking Dead is coming up. I will not be Slogging during the halftime show, because union blogging rules require a break. 1:13 left in the half! We’re on the 50! Golly, I hope we make it to their swimsuit area! Why, an email asks, am I calling it the swimsuit area? Because I don’t know what it’s called. I do know, however, that it’s a sensitive spot, and the other team will do all it can to prevent us from touching them there.
4:53: Thirteen seconds left, and the Stealers take a timeout. Our coach appears to be perusing a Ford Field menu with our quarterback. They’re ordering something for halftime noshing, I guess. We attempted one of those three-point kickies, but it didn’t work. So we’re down by four as we go into the Halftime Show of the Living Dead. Okay, my break begins now. Join me after the halftime show for more insightful commentary.
Time for delicious Danish Cheese and Hebrew National hotdogs—my own little stand against the Islamic whackjobs who are pissing their pants about a fucking cartoon. Yum…