Dear Potatobugs:
I know this article will get many of you all in a dither with me, but I have never stopped at priopriety before, so why begin now? I do not understand the United State's fascination with professional football and I never will. To me, the whole thing amounts to a field full of overpaid neanderthals chasing a big, shiny brown thing (we can't really call it a ball when it is shaped like Stewie Griffin'shead) from one end to another in an effort to increase their odds of brain injury. How is it even fair to pin teams against one another when some are rich and can afford to pay the best players and others must settle for bottom of the barrel? It seems to me that we could spend our time more effectively watching paint dry...but, I am not one to burst anyone's balloons and I understand that, for many of you, the countdown to the Superbowl is like a six-month advent with the half-time show and commercials serving as some sort of Holiday spectacular.
The real problem, America, is that we as a culture like reasons to drink, gamble and scream...and professional sports give us the opportunity to act on these vices and not feel guilty for them. How we haven't worked sex into the day is beyond me...but I am sure it is coming. Even I, Aunt Mark, look forward to those Superbowl parties for the simple fact that there will be chili, dip and pizza to cater to my vice: food. So...as you get yourself trashed tomorrow, lose your paycheck betting on the Steelers or scream yourself hoarse for the Packers, all while downing Cool Ranch Doritos and Nacho Cheese, remeber that, somewhere on that field a high priced prostitute is suffering brain damage for your entertainment pleasure. Other than the Oscars, where can you get such cheap entertainment?
I know this article will get many of you all in a dither with me, but I have never stopped at priopriety before, so why begin now? I do not understand the United State's fascination with professional football and I never will. To me, the whole thing amounts to a field full of overpaid neanderthals chasing a big, shiny brown thing (we can't really call it a ball when it is shaped like Stewie Griffin'shead) from one end to another in an effort to increase their odds of brain injury. How is it even fair to pin teams against one another when some are rich and can afford to pay the best players and others must settle for bottom of the barrel? It seems to me that we could spend our time more effectively watching paint dry...but, I am not one to burst anyone's balloons and I understand that, for many of you, the countdown to the Superbowl is like a six-month advent with the half-time show and commercials serving as some sort of Holiday spectacular.
The real problem, America, is that we as a culture like reasons to drink, gamble and scream...and professional sports give us the opportunity to act on these vices and not feel guilty for them. How we haven't worked sex into the day is beyond me...but I am sure it is coming. Even I, Aunt Mark, look forward to those Superbowl parties for the simple fact that there will be chili, dip and pizza to cater to my vice: food. So...as you get yourself trashed tomorrow, lose your paycheck betting on the Steelers or scream yourself hoarse for the Packers, all while downing Cool Ranch Doritos and Nacho Cheese, remeber that, somewhere on that field a high priced prostitute is suffering brain damage for your entertainment pleasure. Other than the Oscars, where can you get such cheap entertainment?
Amen Auntie
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