HyperBowl Suckage

First and foremost, yay Steelers! Good job on the win. Sloppy, ugly, and not at all a great game, but a win nonetheless. These are the last nice things I'm going to say about the BIG GAME last night.

Rolling Stones. SUCK. SUCK. SUCK! So glad I wasn't compelled to pay money to see them the latest "Farewell Tour" Gad. Speaking of sloppy and ugly. Jeeez.

The National Anthem. What a shame, Aaron Neville, Aretha Franklin and Doctor John were abused with a sucko sound system. So much for making Motown part of the Hyperbowl. Hells bells, you couldn't even HEAR the piano. That sucked so bad I can't even find words. That sucked so much it gets its own suckage notation:

Ford Field Sound System. SUCK. SUCK. SUCK. Don't you people know how to properly mike a dome? Musicians are meant to be heard. Not echoed all over the interior of the big dome and the insides of the cheerleaders heads. The whole point of commentators is to be able to HEAR what they're commenting on. Except for:

Michael Irvin. Oh. My. Gawd. Who didn't show up that ABC had to bring in the crackhead? Obbie and I were able to understand what he was saying in the first half, but later, he became totally incoherent. Having his eyes bug out of his head and ranting was a nice touch, though. Scores an 8 out of 10 on the suckometer.

Hyper Bowl Commericals: Unlike many people, I don't watch the HyperBowl for the commercials. I actually like football. Commercials just kind of happen. Last night, the Whopperettes one was pretty funny in a weird way, and the one for Bud Light with the Magic Fridge. Godaddy dot com needs to get over themselves. Basing your whole ad campaign on last year's commerical probably isn't the best way to go. Especially when the original ad wasn't all that great in the first place. So yeah. Her strap broke. Big fat deal. Yawn. Next.

HyperBowl parties: Over rated. I want to watch the game. I don't want to have to crank the volume to deafening proportions to hear the game OVER discussions about what dog food is better, or the latest episode of LOST. Henceforth and in the future, I will not be inviting people to watch the HyperBowl at my house. I want to watch the game. Not make sure everyone is fed and that the cats aren't sitting in a platter of hot wings, performing their own kitty quality control checks. (No, that didn't happen, but the possibility always exists.)

Last night, nobody showed up until after halftime. We didn't even think anyone was coming, so Obbie and I spent the first half (and some of halftime) picking at what we'd made. So the guests were treated to cold wings and picked over relish/cheese/meat trays. If you're invited, come on time for Gawds sake, or at least say you won't be there until later. This shit of "Thanks for the invitation. I've been invited to other places too, so I don't know if I'll make it" is kinda rude, and you deserve cold wings.

Oh, and I made a 'Steelers' cake using yellow cake, and the famous black cocoa powder for the much anticipated buttercream frosting. It was black and yellow, thats for sure. But the buttercream didn't cream, and the frosting oozed off the cake and the platter. I have to work on this frosting thing. This is the second time that I've had oozy frosting. I shouldn't be allowed to work with fractions when nobody is there to help (I wanted a recipe and a half of the frosting.) It's just wrong. The cake tasted good, but was truly ugly. It looked like a derby hat. Wrong, so wrong. So I offered it up to the trash can gods this morning. (Chicken bones and cakes gone awry, that'll ensure the crops will be good this year....)

Finally that brings us to the Suck of all Sucks: Grey's Anatomy. Damn you all to hell!! All you Gray's Anatomy writers!! For at least a week you punks have been teasing me with a 'Code Black' episode. With little snippets of screaming and bloody scenes. I was SO hoping that Code Black meant 'Ebola in Da Houuuuse' but nooo. Just some home made, unexploded ordinance buried in a man's chest. And then, you little fuckers, you didn't even have the decency to FINISH the show. We're left hanging. AGAIN. It's just lucky for you that I HATE soap operas, and this serial drama crap is just a prime time soap opera. So now I can just go on about my life, knowing that I won't have to stay up and watch what happens in the latest hospital draaaama. You could have had me. I was tempted.

Ebola would have been so much more interesting. A pox on you. And your little dogs too. Yes, I KNOW Ebola is so 90's. But nothing says drama like hemorragic fever running amok in a big city hospital.)

So go on now and have youself a big NON SUCKY day. I know I will.