super bowl

I finally feel a little liberated. I honestly never gave a shit about football, but like many of us, I trudged out to some kind of Superbowl party every year, to watch two teams I did not care nor know anything about battle it out.

I used to say it was for the commercials, but I only buy experiences and not stuff now (at least, as much as possible – I still have to clothe myself, wash dishes, that sort of thing), so I don’t really give a fuck. Functional or experiential, not collectible.

Most commercials are shit anyway, trying way too hard. Wazzup wasn’t that funny.

Plus, the orange menace was going to be there, because, of course, he fucking was, and the less I see of that absolute piece of garbage, the better.

The half-time show is occasionally interesting, but I lost interest after they forced the Red Hot Chili Peppers to lip sync. I have seen anyone I actually cared to see since Tom Petty.

(Scratch that, the year with Eminem was pretty good).

So, yeah, I did what’s now become our new tradition and a much more enjoyable one – the Puppy Bowl followed by a movie.

A glass of wine.

Maybe a shot of cream liqueur, because we fancy.

Or some shit.

Anyway, enjoy your sport named after another sport that doesn’t have anything to do with the original sport and has very little to do with feet connecting with balls, making it aptly misnamed.

America. You’re so predictably boring, and your favourite sport?

It’s tedious as all get-out.

Target: 1100 words
Written: 108 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Personal MBA, Josh Kaufman
Comics: Images Of Shadowhawk 2-3, Shadowhawk v3 1-2
Music: In Between Evolution, The Tragically Hip (feels like where we are now, on the cusp of an evolutionary leap, or complete destruction.)

yay, futbals

Rather, yay, it’s over?

I guess that guy whose girlfriend everyone likes won, while simultaneously showing that he’s willing to physically assault an old man when he’s frustrated on the sidelines.

Red flag, girl. When shit gets bad, is he going to try to intimidate you physically?

Things to watch out for.

Assholes be assholes, y’all.

Target: 400 words
Written: 250 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Sex Rx, Lauren Streicher
Comics: Hunter Killer 0-3
Music: Joni Mitchell Essentials, Joni Mitchell (fuck you, I'm Canadian, and despite how saccharine it can be at times, and at odds with my punk roots, it's got its own je-ne-sais-quoi, and its own ethos of anti-authoritarianism. She's low key anarchist, like most hippies).

superb-whogivesafuck

Honestly. I’m a sports guy and I can appreciate a good story told in any medium, but football?

Ugh.

Stop. Go. Stop. Go. Stand around. Sixty minutes on the clock, four hours on TV, about fifteen minutes of action.

Why do Americans love such boring sports?

This is why I hate Gary Bettman – he’s spent decades taking all the excitement out of hockey, so it’s as fucking milquetoast as the big three American sports.

Dude needs to be fired and someone who understands fucking impact needs to come back in.

Anyway, long story short. Who gives a shit about the Superbowl? Why do we care if Taylor Swift is there?

Puppy Bowl me, thank you very much.

Target: 300 words
Written: 267 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Sex Rx, Lauren Streicher
Comics: Sex Criminals 29-30, Sex Criminals: Sexual Gary Special, Sex Criminals 69 (I get it, but the whole ending felt rushed and incomplete.  Sorry, Chip and Matt, but it was.  It felt like you lost the plot a bit.  Disappointing ending.)
Music: Join Together, The Who