So it’s come and gone. Another year, another season, another Superbowl.
Whew.
Not that I had anything hanging on the game. On the contrary, I could care less about the Church of the Inflated Pigskin, especially since Fox took over and filled the borders of the screen with video games. I gather the Patriots won. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, or indeed, of any suprise whatsoever. I haven’t seen any media fury over the halftime show, so I’m assuming Sir Paul didn’t moon the audience or engage in any Marilyn Manson-style grotesquerie. We wouldn’t want to psychologically scar the children with some exposed bit of the human anatomy, after all.
As I do every year, I avoided the whole thing. In particular, after spending a bit more time on the SDMB than was strictly good for my mental well-being, including posting some pointless screed about (shameless plug) The Hat, I gathered what tatters remain of my wits, put the laptop into standby mode, and trundled off to West Hollywood to spend a bit of quality reading time at my favorite coffeehouse whilst waiting for the show to start.
What show, you may ask? (And in case you didn’t, I asked for you. No extra charge; it’s all part of the service.) The show that I preferred to the Superbowl. In this year, it was the absolutely brilliant Terry Gilliam film Brazil. I don’t know how many times I’ve seen it now, but it gets better each time, particularly the happy-go-lobotomized ending. It was showing with the not-quite-so-amazing-but-still-rather-excellent Twelve Monkeys.
Madeleine Stowe is a babe and a half, by the way.
After that, it was a short walk over to the Angeli Caffe for some lasagna, as my appetite was inspired by this recent thread. Yum.
So, what non-Superbowl related activities did you do? I see that several people spent the afternoon Pitting a here-to-be-unnamed poster, which isn’t really my bag of tea (I mean, one or two posts are quite all right, but a marathon thread?) but whatever floats your personal hovercraft is fine by my first edition Wodehouse.
So, what’d ya do with yourself?
“We’re all in this together, kid.” – Archibald ‘Harry’ Tuttle (not to be confused with Archibald Buttle.)
Stranger