the slack daily

Things I Learned From Superbowl Ads.

1. I shouldn't abort my child because one day she may have the chance to become a GoDaddy Girl.

2. The Lilly Ledbetter Act now extends to personal hygiene products! Men now get the opportunity to buy smelly products they don't need. FINALLY, equal opportunity! You've come a long way, baby.

3. Costumers on commercials have a secret stash of slight-used tidy-whiteys. (I can only hope they receive hazard pay.)

4. What was missing was the Robert Blake/OJ Simpson crossover ad where they meet at the Sbarro in the mall food court after being dragged shopping by their overbearing wives.

5. Mrs. Tebow might reassess her position on the right to choose if she was forced to sit in First Class with an E*Trade baby.

Winners? Anyone who got paid to create that violent, misogynistic, and most importantly UNFUNNY piece of crap. Viva mediocrity!

Also a winner? Willie Ames, who did a fabulous job singing at the halftime show. I think he's proved to Hollywood that he's finally ready for the way-overdue Pirate Movie 2.

Losers? All of us who didn't fast-forward through the commercials. I like my misogynists classy. (Looking at you, Don Draper.)

You can find the rest of my Livetweets from the Superbowl here. And while you're at it, check out Caissie St. Onge, Tom Scharpling, Paul F. Tompkins and Sara Benincasa.

Tribute.

I started a blog about the following article:

Study Shows Couples Stay Together if They Watch Baseball Together*

It was the Juno of blog posts, both gut-bustingly funny and oddly tenderhearted,  a post that could heal rifts in families and bring peace to war-torn regions.  There were anecdotes braided together with facts to create a rich tapestry of linkable delight.

And then I had to go to StubHub.com for one last link.

It crashed my browser.

StubHub, you owe me one Best Blog Post in the world.  Or some free tickets.  It's up to you.

So I can only offer you the above link.

And this photo:

This is not The Best Blog Post in the World...this is just a Tribute.

*Link via QueenofSpain!

Blowing It.

Will spent a good part of yesterday flipping between channels: an appetizer of the Jets getting beaten, followed up by a main course of the Mets getting their post-season butts handed to them. Distraught and heartbroken are the only two words that could be used to describe Mr. Boy as he knocked around the house, brow furrowed and mouth trembling.  I sat him down.

I know you're upset, but you gotta move on, I told him.

I know.

Just make sure you don't wallow in it.

I'm going to avoid all sports news for the next week, he said.

Later that afternoon he was sitting at his computer, looking dejected.  I sat down on his lap, catching the words on the screen before he could click them away.

Historic Choke Job Will Haunt Mets....the headline read.

I thought you were skipping the sports stuff, I reminded him.

I know, I know.

Okay, tonight there's only one type of blowing I want you to be looking at on your computer screen, okay?  It's the type that makes everyone feel better.

I typed "blow" into Google's Image Search (parental controls off.) 

Porn makes everyone feel better!

He took the mouse from my hand and scrolled down the page.   Blowjob picture after blowjob picture after blowjob picture. And then...a full spread. 

On the Mets.

Hey, I tried.

Probably not the furriest Jets fan ever.

Working Blue*: Three Ways.

(*I really do work blue here.  You've been warned.)


Mr. Boy's Mating Dance:

He brought me home a pint of 'Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream' on Friday evening:

(sans makeup.  or shame.)

Do you think he (Mr. Boy, not Mr, Colbert) was trying to tell me something?

...

The Girls You Marry and the Girls You...

We're sitting on the couch, watching the first few games of basketball when the camera pans over the head coach of...Xavier, maybe? who looks suspiciously like Jimmy Kimmel.

Hey, look! Mr. Boy says to me, I didn't know Jimmy Kimmel had a team!

I always thought Jimmy Kimmel looked like he had a touch of the downs, I respond.

He laughs.  Can you believe he actually left his wife for that woman?  Can you imagine living with that? [note: Mr. Boy and I aren't fans of the SS, erm that's Sarah Silverman, although we're not fans of the Nazis, either.]

I know!  I continue. She's not the girl you leave your wife for. She's the type of girl you bang in the ass.

Exactly. There's the girls you marry, and the girls you bang in the ass behind your wife's back.

...

But Seriously, Folks:

Mr. Boy is on a business trip for four days.  He's leaving straight from work, and won't be back 'til late Thursday night.   I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't going to miss him more than a little bit...