“Hey Hal, where did you watch the Super Bowl?”
I went home for the weekend to Syracuse to visit the folks and take the girlfriend skiing.Hal, are you some kind of moron driving up to Syracuse in the winter, particularly in a record breaking winter such as this one?
Yes, yes I am; now shut the hell up. As much as I’d love to recreate the perils of my ill-fated skiing expedition, I’m pitching that story to the folks at Universal and it should come out next Thanksgiving as a zany, madcap romp starring Ben Stiller or Jason Biggs and Brittany Murphy or some chick from Friends. Roger Ebert will tell you it’s a laugh a minute, and Richard Roeper will concur, adding, “Stiller/Biggs delivered a gut-busting performance as the inept,
frazzled boyfriend.”
Let’s get back to the Super Bowl…
By the time this gets to print, it’ll probably be forgotten, but I feel it’s my duty as a member of the press to comment on the following topics. In the spirit of the broadcast, the remainder of this column is pretty much PG-13. And in the spirit of the performers, if I offend anyone I will apologize two days after to the audience, MTV, CBS and the NFL, citing a wardrobe malfunction:

Pre-game: I didn’t turn it on until 6:00, so I missed Aerosmith’s sad, pathetic, “We’re reaching a new generation, one that we hope to farm for replacement organs” performance. Hang it up, fellas – the Stones may be old but they’d never stoop so low as to do a Super Bowl pre-game show.
Space Shuttle Tribute: It was a beautiful gesture and certainly poignant, but that dude (?) singing was one freaky looking character. It was as if the producers of American Idol, after securing the rights to Justin Guarini’s and Kelly Clarkson’s DNA, ran straight to the lab and developed the ultimate singing über-geek. He sure was a pretty, for a boy…
P.Diddy: In what world is he still relevant, to the point where he should even be at the Super Bowl? He’s just sitting around waiting for another one of his friends to get shot so he can make another record. If I were G.Dep, I’d watch my ass…
Kid Rock: Nothing like going from American Badass to American a—— in one lousy 2-minute performance. I’ve never been a fan of him (except for the song a bout Kyle’s mom on the South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut Soundtrack), but now that he’s gone and made a poncho out of Old Glory, hopefully the rest of the country will realize what a lowlife this guy really is. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he pulled the thing off and threw it to the ground like James Brown used to do with his capes (and probably now does with his 30 year-old wife – zing!). I’m sure our men and women in uniform loved that little spectacle, you scumbag.
Janet Jackson: Here’s my theory — Michael called Janet and said, “Listen, the folks are really giving me a hard time over this kid-touching thing, do you mind taking some of the heat off me for awhile?” Janet responded, “Sure Mike, how ’bout I let some noodle-armed, baby-voiced poseur rip off my bra and expose my right breast at the end of the Super Bowl Halftime Show. Would that be enough?” To which Michael responded, “Thanks, baby.” To which Janet replied,
“No, my first name ain’t baby, it’s Janet – Miss Jackson – and I’m nasty.”
Next year the network might want to go for the Victoria’s Secret Lingerie Bowl – it’s probably more family-friendly than anything MTV could cook up.
Funniest Ad: It wasn’t the dog biting the guy’s crotch for the Bud Light, it wasn’t the Clydesdonkey, it wasn’t the chick having a horse fart in her face and it wasn’t even the bagpiper chilling his bag and pipe over the nitrogen vent. It was the in-your-face,
brutal honesty of the Cialis commercial that explained, in no uncertain terms, the use of the
product. The best line had to be “Erections lasting more than four hours require immediate medical attention.” Nothing like sitting in the living room with the family after hearing a sentence like that come through the television.
Erectile Dysfunction Medication: Levitra, Cialis, Viagra – they sound like R&B singers. They should form a band with Viagra Smith, Levitra Jones and Cialis Johnson and call it “VLC” or “Erectile’s Child.”

Most awkward, G-rated moment of the broadcast: In some half-assed attempt to say goodbye to Dan Marino as a broadcaster (he’s taking a front-office job with the Dolphins next season), Deion Sanders removed his shoes and gave them to Marino at the end of the broadcast.
Marino then looked at Sanders, as if to say, “What the f*** am I supposed to do with your smelly-ass shoes, and why are you giving them to me on national television?”
Oh, and the game: Congratulations to the New England Patriots, Super Bowl XXXVIII Champs! It was a hell of a game played by both teams. It just makes me sick that the same people who were celebrating Sunday night were probably celebrating last October when Pedro Martinez threw Don Zimmer to the ground by his head.
Screw New England…
If you know how I can effectively waste $50 in the
Metro-area, please write to:
“Hal Wastes His Wages”
c/o The Hudson Current
1400 Washington Street
Hoboken, New Jersey 07030
or email c_halleron@yahoo.com


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