Yes, I realize I didn't post anything yesterday. There's a reason.
I was sleeping.
You see, I won a Super Bowl party at Buffalo Wild Wings, so there was no way in holy hell I was going to go tromping into work come Monday morning. I took Monday off. And boy oh boy did I sleep. I slept like I haven't slept since college. We're talking one of those slumbers where you practically enter another dimension. A slumber where you're practically dead, except you're not. You're alive, and the only thing you want to do is sleep, and possibly sleep yourself to death.
Of course, it doesn't hurt if you were raging bombed the night before. Ah, the Super Bowl. An excuse to drink yourself to another plane of existence. I haven't been that inebriated since, like, forever. It was good to be back, but I won't be going there for a long looooonnngggg time. Until the next time. Probably March 1, my birthday.
But, hey, how about that Super Bowl?! I admit it, I was rooting for Carolina, for no other reason except that New England already won a Super Bowl, like just a couple years ago. Come on. Spread the wealth, people. Don't be so greedy. Stop hording all those Super Bowl trophies. Lousy New England.
*obligatory comment on Janet's nasty nipple*
First off, I don't really care for the whole halftime show. If I wanted to see people prance around and lip sync, I'd go back through my Milli Vanilli DVDs (okay, I don't own such a thing, and I honestly hope no such thing exists). I really don't understand the appeal of the halftime show. Each year it gets worse and worse. More flamboyant. More stupid.
But, this year there was, apparently, a nipple. Janet Jackson's nipple, no less.
I didn't see it, to tell the truth. I think I was getting a beer refill at the time. But, the fallout the next day made sure I would see, again and again, what probably ranks as the worst looking nipple in the history of nipples. Yes, Janet, my dear, I understand that your career is on the decline, but there was no need to torment 100 million viewers with the sight of your tired boob harpooned with whatever that thing was adorning your unfortunate nipple.
Don't get me wrong. I'm a huge fan of breasts. I think they're fantastic. But, the thing is, really great breasts are best viewed unsullied by tattoos or metal appendages. When I see a nipple ring or boob tattoo, I think, "wow, gee, she's probably 98 percent nasty whore." And, before you scream "sexist pig," let me just assure you that I think male nipple piercings and/or tattoos are just as stupid and unappealing. They don't make you look tough, guys. They make you look as dumb as a rotten log.
So, there was Janet Jackson, her face splattered with enough make-up to kill whatever dog or cat it was tested on, looking about 20 years older than she probably is, unleashing her pendulous fake breast to the world, adorned with what was apparently a ninja throwing star. And, what's worse? That poor exhausted boob was unveiled to the world by Justin Timberlake, who apparently has not yet come to terms with the fact that he can't grow a full beard to save his life. The manboy looked like he had mange, for crying out loud.
*end nipple commentary here*
It was a great Super Bowl, though. Top O' the line entertainment.
So, how did I fill my weekend, you ask? Okay, you didn't ask, but I'm telling you anyway. I saw the movie "The Big Bounce" with Melissa on Saturday night. It. . . was. . . slow. I mean, it wasn't horribly bad, and it wasn't all that good. It was just kind of there. It was better than Janet Jackson's nipple, but not better than Salma Hayek's, is what I'm saying. Melissa and I left the theater kind of in a numb state, trying to mentally digest whatever it was we just saw. The major saving grace of the movie was that it was set in Hawaii, so Melissa and I sat there and wished we were back there, but otherwise it was just kind of a so-so movie.
And, oh, in case you haven't heard, we endured a Noah's flood of snow between Sunday and Monday. It just snowed and snowed and snowed. And today it's just plain cold. Yep. Minnesota: you're soaking in it. And then you're freezing in it. Still, I love this state, even though I'm not at all sure why.
I also renewed my driver's license yesterday. I can't believe it's been four years already. The picture looks basically the same, but the person has changed immensely. When I last updated my license, I was in a job I loathed, with a manager I loathed more, and a romantic life that bordered on self-abuse mixed with male whoring. If you were a female with a heartbeat, chances were good I'd hit on you. A mere four years later, and I find myself with a job I both like and am pretty damned good at, with co-workers I like, and a girlfriend who is great and, more importantly, almost just like me in personality. All that positive change, and yet the picture looks the same. I don't know what I was expecting.
And so here I am on a Tuesday. Toggling between blogging and catching up on work. And I'm happy.
Way happier, it would seem, than Janet Jackson's skewered nipple. Man that thing looked nasty.
RANDOM LINK: A soldier's perspective.
Posted by Ryan at February 3, 2004 10:38 AM
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