Much like Carmen Sandiego, I’ve snuck around the world, from Kiev to Carolina, and during that traveled time, I’ve taken down a tally of near billions, and the collected results are as followed:
As a general human population, we all can’t stand Courtney Love.
“Do it Rockapella!”
And honestly, why should we? She’s astonishingly crass, inordinately offensive, and is the proud owner of an un-angelic singing voice that one can only be likened to that of Jonestown cats committing mass suicide.
Simply put, Courtney Love is 10,000 spoons, and all we need is a knife.
“There’s two things I hate: Incorrect silverware… and Dave Coulier.”– Alanis Morissette
But by George, you gotta give that hay-haired nutjob credit where credit is due.
Back when current flavor-of-the-month downward-spiralers, Lindsay Lohan, Amanda Bynes, and Justin Bieber were dooking their silk diapers, Love was already America’s celebrity Titanic. She’s literally the closest thing to the human equivalent of Will Smith’s After Earth we’ve seen with our own two eyes.
But take a second to look at her lengthy track record of awful consistency— we’re talking over twenty years of being a flat-out mess of a person… that’s a train-wreck spanning some part of three decades folks.
Alright, alright, I know what you’re thinking- that’s not really impressive per say, it’s more flat-out jerky. Of course, I can’t blame you for thinking like that.
Feast your eyes on her infamous rap sheet… in Night Court.
“GUILTY on all counts of bad jokes!”
So, Why All the Courtney Love Hate?
She spent the majority of the 90’s with more drugs in her system than Tom Hanks in the last half hour of Philadelphia, her estranged daughter, Frances Bean Cobain, won’t give her the time of day, she’s started wars with former members of Nirvana, mounted a failed comeback of her band, Hole (without her band, Hole), and for the cherry on top of this crap sundae, she may or may not have sent a shotgun shell through her late husband’s blonde noggin…
…or so Pat Smear would have you believe.
Quit looking so coy, Smear.
She’s kicked-up juvenile feuds with Madonna, Marilyn Manson, Billy Corgan, Gwen Stefani, and Kelly Osbourne, abruptly cancelled tours with the breakneck consistency in which Michael Moore cancels diets, and rubbed most likely half the earth’s population the wrong way with her historically sour attitude. Seriously, Gwen Stefani? The poor girl spends half of her free time walking into spiderwebs, let her be.
But if the miserable green Grinch with his curly elf toes in the fluffy Whoville mountain snow, and his (likely unhealthy) sudden heart growth has taught us anything, it’s this: time heals all wounds. Maturation is only natural– Father Time helps us tenderize, and maybe once notoriously-nasty Courtney has sewed up her ripped stockings, 86’ed those rusty heroin syringes in the dumpster, hung up her vomit-covered babydoll dresses, and isn’t that same rageful alterna she-beast anymore.
Courtney puts new meaning to the term, “Live Through This”.
It’s easy to just assume abrasive Courtney kicks cute puppies, steals loose string beans at the supermarket, and voted for Taylor Hicks to win American Idol… She’s just like that, right?
You wish. Time to open your heart and bust out your Kleenex, because perhaps a 21st Century Courtney Love doesn’t hate, this Love, well, loves.
Talk about getting the most bang for your buck. They really do pack a lot into a little month, don’t they?
In a mere twenty eight days, we’re graced with a bountiful bevy of winter celebration– Valentine’s Day, Groundhog Day, President’s Day, Mardi Gras, Black History Month, Spring Training, and the most important of ‘em all (after Spring Training of course), there’s the great American holiday of Super Bowl Sunday, the biggest party since New Year’s Eve, only one month ago.
While granted, February’s short run is not as eventful as the unseen four weeks during 28 Days Later, but it makes me happy to celebrate my birthday during what would normally end up being a freezing, snowy, boring month with a girly-colored wuss birthstone.
Are you kidding me?
Living in the greater New York area, especially within earshot of Giants Stadium (or MetLife Snoopy Stadium, or whatever it’s called now), the excitement, traffic, and overall buzz has been ramped up to a Spinal Tap-worthy 11 as the Denver Broncos go mono-a-mono with the Seattle Seahawks for all the gusto and glamor of gridiron glory. It’s truly rocky vs. rainy in the Legal Marijuana Bowl.
Blumes note: This offer still stands! Now half price!
But frankly, it’s Friday, January 31st, this is all old hat by now.
At this point, you’ve been endlessly bombarded with Super Bowl ads, magazine covers, news reports, cocky fans, and nonstop party planning for weeks now. When Monday morning comes, and you’re more chili than man, you’ll undoubtedly know the Super Bowl had come and left its mark.
But that’s not who this article is for.
Maybe you’re not a fan of hawks or horses, perhaps Richard Sherman’s post-game interview rubbed you the wrong way, or heck, or maybe you’re one of those people seriously considering a 7th Heaven marathon instead of football this weekend.
Ladies and Gentlemen: Your special teams for the Oakland Raiders!
Of course that doesn’t mean you won’t find yourself enjoying the festivities of Super Bowl Sunday. Dr. Oz-unfriendly food, offensively expensive commercials (that always feature a baby doing something un-babyish), the sickeningly adorable Puppy Bowl, and trying to get your greased-up fingers to press the remote buttons to change the channel as Bruno Mars performs at halftime- this Sunday is a bombastic event that will please folks of all tastes. …as evident by this walk down memory lane of some truly classic and heavily unorthodox Super Bowl games of yore.
1. SUPER BOWL XXXII: BATMAN VS. STORMTROOPERS
As John Madden once called it in a most clever anagram, “Capes vs. Space”, this battle royale pitted The Dark Knight vs. the Imperial Army for 60 minutes of a nerdtastic pigskin extravaganza. After a first quarter that was heavy on the Big D, Commissioner Gordon’s 45 yard rush into the endzone to close out the first half put Team Gotham up on top.
No guts, no glory, as the ‘Troopers marched their way back in the 4th quarter.
The second half was a superhero explosion of history-making offense as holy touchdowns Batman!— the Caped Crusader aired it out to the Boy Wonder (who took a time out from cheerleading) in the Gotham endzone.
But, when the going gets tough, the tough get going, as the Stormtroopers, with their armored backs against the wall, bounced back to tie the game as the 2-minute warning approached. Coach Vader flipped a crap when an ill-timed interception by Alfred the Butler spelled death for the Star Wars crew with the Bats taking home the trophy to Gotham City with a score of 28-21.
Go Team! Arwwwwwaaaaaaaarrrrrrahahahahahhaahhhhaa!!!!
2. SUPER BOWL XI: KISS BOWL (AKA THE TOILET BOWL)
“I wanna hike the ball all night!”
And you thought the Jaguars were bad…
Nothing screams out “gridiron glory” like mime makeup and gaudy platform shoes on men, but that’s why the KISS bowl was so unique.
Walking embarrassment Gene Simmons bit his long cow tongue as he slipped on his own fake blood on no less than three occasions, turning the usually triumphant game into a fumble-filled lowlight reel. Pain in the ace, Mr. Frehley, shanked four field goal attempts, and starchild, Paul Stanley? Well, he might as well have been the MVP… for the other team.
Chest hair and touchdowns! Not just for Joe Namath anymore!
As far as scoring went, it was Detroit Block City. The spandexed makeuped-ones never did touch the endzone, as KISS went down in defeat to good taste 49-0.
The best worst part was that they weren’t even asked to play the halftime show. That honor went to The Doobie Brothers.
The great part about being KISS, is you can sell any crap you want at the souvenir stands…
The epilogue to this heavy metal tale of the 100 yards: KISS never did get back to the Super Bowl, but on the plus side, KISS never did get back to the Super Bowl.
That jersey has the actual number of KISS fans left on Earth.
3. SUPER BOWL XLV: ZOMBIE BOWL
Let’s have a hand for the hometeam!
It may have been only three years ago, but who could forget when the undead took down scalpers stadium-wide and invaded the turf during the timeless showdown of the Green Bay Packers and Pittsburgh Steelers?
Turning Aaron Rodgers into an Aaron Rodgers kabob? Transforming Clay Matthews into an undead Thor? Sending “Big Ben” Roethlisberger to the sideline to finally get some brains?
It all happened. I guess.
Indigestion from overindulging in extra hot Buffalo wings rendered Daryl and Michonne practically useless that Sunday.
While the gameplay may have been painfully lumbering and a bit lethargic at times, it was no worse than any given Cleveland Browns game on a random Sunday.
The “Running Dead” tried to bite Tim Tebow on the sidelines, but he was immune to it.
But if Broadway has taught us anything, (and I guess it has…) — the show must go on, flesh eaters or not.
Time will tell us that the zombies vs. zombies Super Bowl was a tad gory, maybe too confusing at times, and it may have taken five days to finish, but in the end, it was much less traumatizing than the Black Eyed Peas halftime show.
4th Down of the Dead!
One would be safe to assume the zombie apocalypse and certain doomsday would put a damper on the game’s festivities, with all the undead cannibalism and spilled guts, but the TV ratings reached an all-time high. The NFC z-team ended up hoisting the Vince Lombardi Trophy, rotting limbs and all, bringing it back to frigid Green Bay where decaying slows down like Kirstie Alley’s metabolism.
THE ZOMBIES HAVE BECOME HIDEOUS!
The trophy had to be immediately sent out to be cleaned and shined due to the high volume of blood on it …on a weekly basis.
(On a positive note, in the zombie onslaught, Steelers safety Troy Polamalu was attacked, but escaped by a “hair”.)
Parking was tighter than George Costanza’s wallet…
…but the tailgating was awesome!
4. SUPER BOWL XLII: THE RETURN OF BUD BOWL
Eli vs. Tom- buds for life!
For those too young to remember, the Bud Bowl was an early 90’s stop-motion beer bottle football tour de force that found its home during commercial breaks, squeezed in between multi-million dollar ads for Crystal Pepsi and The Bodyguard soundtrack. It was a kick-glass all-out brawl between Budweiser and Bud Light. Even as a long retired campaign, for me, that fateful Sunday in 2008 always be the year that the suds saved football.
Hut, hut… HOPS!!!
Phoenix, AZ– When a thunderous monsoon that would’ve knocked over human brick wall, Howie Long, hit, it kept planes grounded and prevented both the Pats and G-Men from making their way into warm, sunny Arizona, the NFL pooped their britches, panicked and pooped them some more.
“But I wanna go on the PLAAAANNEE!!”
Sadly, cancelling the big game seemed like the only choice left, seeing as how there was no way to get the unfortunate stranded teams into the balmy city in time. Luckily, the answer was only a bar away…
Long dead since 1997, a time when candy-lovin’ alternarock trio Marcy Playground was brimming with untapped potential, the beer bottles were called off the bench as Bud Bowl sat in as the substitute teacher for the real teams. It was truly like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, but for drunks.
“My nose is red cause I’m half in the bag!”
The bottles tossed on the teams’ uniforms, and no one in the massive Arizona crowd was the wiser. Nearly sixty minutes of play time and we all know what happened next- Ale-I Manning to Beer David Tyree (what a good pick in the draft), the miraculous helmet catch, and a near-perfect season for New England ended in an 18-1 conclusion, as the bottled Big Blue were swimming in confetti in the Big Apple soon after.
No feelings were bottled-up in this game…
Understandably, in Massachusetts, spirits were wicked low, and where did they go? To a bar of course. NORM!
“Sammy, I’ve told you for years that beer saves all.”
5. SUPER BOWL XLIV: GAME MVP- ABE LINCOLN
Four Scores! … and seven years ago.
For a few brief hours, the “L” in NFL stood for Lincoln.
We all know Abraham Lincoln was a president, emancipator, and a vampire hunter, but do you remember Abe’s big-time appearance in the Super Bowl?
The bearded one was called in to play when Peyton Manning had to leave the game early to film an impromptu Kraft Macaroni and Cheese commercial. He ran out, flying past the cheerleaders, zooming by the mascots, with the glisten of anger in his eyes, sweat on his brow, and a chin beard so mighty, the heavens above stopped to gaze in majestic awe.
The stovetop hat was thrown down, the shoulder pads were thrust on, and that pigskin flew like you wouldn’t believe. It was going perfect, until… clumsy ox Drew Brees went down with a pulled hamstring on the slippery turf. And being the helpful chap he is, ‘ol Honest Abe took the reigns and stood in for him as well, changing uniforms as the Colts defensive squad ran out.
He abolished the slaves, and demolished the Colts…
As the clock struck zero, the Big Easy soon was celebrating with the sounds of jazz and firey-cajun food up the wazoo as Abe Lincoln received an early birthday gift- a declaration as Super Bowl MVP.
It was rumored plentiful posterior-ed socialite Kim Kardashian emancipated her relationship with then-Saints running back, Reggie Bush, that night to lock lips with the sixteenth prez.
And how did A-Linc become so good at football?
Just how you get to Carnegie Hall… Practice.
Note: Sadly, Lincoln’s pro-career was cut short the following pre-season when Ravens linebacker John Wilkes Booth broke Lincoln’s legs.
Enjoy your Super Bowl weekend! As usual, please Fed-Ex any uneaten chicken wings to me.
With less than seven days until the biggest of big games approaches, are you still scraping for last-minute plans like Urkel on prom night? Or maybe you’re a diehard who bleeds Bronco blue and orange? Or you drink so much Starbucks, your jittery veins just scream out to support Seattle? Perhaps the marquee clash of Peyton Manning vs. Russell Wilson means 100% diddly squat to you, and you’re just are looking to punish your belt by eating your weight in Buffalo wings? OR… just maybe you’re looking to spend Super Bowl week 2014 at the epicenter of the pigskinned party action?
Well, no matter what your interest, wonder no longer friends. Pack your wooliest mittens and your 90’s Starter jackets, you’re coming to Jersey!
Unless you’re living under a rock (which granted, may be a very nice rock), for the first time in the nearly fifty years of the big game, we are about to experience Super Bowl XLVIII, the first such game played in a cold weather location, in an open stadium.
That stadium is called MetLife Stadium.
That stadium, MetLife Stadium, is located in East Rutherford, NJ.
That stadium, MetLife Stadium, located in East Rutherford, NJ, just so happens to be less than ten minutes from my house.
Don’t let the gigantic Pepsi tent fool you, that’s the greatest 1.5 billion dollar spaceship-y looking stadium money can buy!
A. The entire surrounding area has been plastered with these banners for the past month. Literally, everywhere. I think there’s one on my back.
B. Traffic is more trafficy, even by this area’s high traffic standards. Also, traffic.
C. Everyone and their grandmother is making a sweet, sweet buck off this game. From parties, endless merchandise, themed events, and even renting out spare rooms to out-of-state visitors.
So, of course, when in Rome…
Attention football lovers, haters, and the indifferent! I happily present to you, an offer, make that the offer of a lifetime! (Well, technically, I guess that’s kinda true) It’s time for…
BLUMES’S SUPER BOWL WEEK EXTRA-EXTRAVAGANZA!
Yes, you’ve Q-Tipped your ears thoroughly and heard that last statement correctly. Leave your most-likely warmer climate, trek on over to the East Coast, kick back and stay for a spell in the Garden State, and you can spend this upcoming week with me in high style!
Included in this relatively glorious package is:
A one-of-a-kind tour of the local area, including, but not limited to: the icy parking lot of MetLife Stadium, the numerous ceiling-high supermarket towers of Pepsi cases, and insider hotspots, guided by yours truly. Included will be such insightful and highly riveting commentary as:
– “Hey, that’s the cemetery where Joey Ramone is buried!”
– “Oh look, that’s the supermarket parking lot where my car battery died last month!”
– “See that place? Their pizza is sooooooo good! Well, only if you go on Wednesday nights.”
– “Can you wait in the car for a second? I gotta go to the ATM.”
– “That Chinese place used to be a Sam Goody! That’s where I bought Significant Other by Limp Bizkit!”
Hey! Leave me out of this!
Use of my brand new super-soft The Walking Dead throw blanket:
Practice your best “CARL!!!!” impression while snuggled under this bad boy.
The remainder of however many of these Reese’s Pieces are left that I bought the other night: (Note: it will probably be none)
They’re not just for E.T. anymore!
I will cook you any meal of your choosing from this book:
Advice: I’m in the mood for burgers, pick them!
Did someone say LOST marathon?!?
“We have to go back!”
Don’t ask me how, but I managed to get my hands on the best songs of R.E.M.! And I don’t even know anyone! Talk about a score! Prepare to be Michael Stipe-d out…
Together, we will find out what the frequency is.
Massive! Snowball! Fight!
If you aim correctly, you can hit Snooki in the head!
So, let’s get down to business…
How much would you pay for this truly unique, and only mildly crappy experience in the chilly Tri-State tundra for this history-making Super Bowl? $2,000??$3,000??Did you say$4,000?!?
Well, if you’re willing to pay that much, how’s $5,000 sound? I could really use the cash.
I gladly accept cash, check, money orders, or bags of loose change if need be. Don’t let this opportunity pass you by. Together, we can put the super in Super Bowl! Or the owl… either way.
See you then!
“What a deal! …a bad deal!”
(…and act fast! I just ate four more of those Reese’s Pieces.)