Thoughts about Super Bowl Sunday

It’s that time again. Super Bowl Sunday. Ah yes, that American Holiday where the questions at hand are “What are we eating?” And “Did I win any money?” Right. There’s some sort of football game thrown in there too. But what everyone looks forward to, because they are universal, are the new commercials.

How freakin’ capitalistic can you be when the thought of the day is "OOO... Who do you think will have the best commercial?” Does that not make the Super Bowl one HUGE sales tool? Um, yes. One honkin’ spectacle of American Capitalism at work "SALES TOOL." How much do they charge per minute for air time? Grotesque amounts of cash. For what??? The Budweiser Clydesdales? The Pepsi truck driver? And let’s not forget… The freakin’ Monster.com MONKEYS. Oh we know how men LOVE their monkeys! Do I remember any of them? Did their large amounts of cash thrown at the American public to remember their message actually work on this average, middle class American? Nope. I was too busy stuffing my face and checking my boxes. “Was that 0 and 9? I think I won $250.”

Granted, I spend a lot of time in the kitchen making the four layer chili bake and the hot wings from hell. But occasionally I peek my head out of the kitchen to check what’s happening. I do love the Clydesdales. They are a staple of the Sunday. And how did they get that Dalmatian to smile like that? I’ll never know! Oh who cares! We buy what we want any way. It’s a night to get together, eat, drink and be… sloppy. "Pass the wet naps. Don't touch the remote. Someone get me a beer. Holy Crap! How did Michelle win the finale -- AGAIN!!! Bitch!"