Sign up for our newsletters   

Baltimore City Paper home.
Print Email

Mr. Wrong

Big Steaming Bowl

By Joe MacLeod | Posted 2/2/2005

So last week--I mean last time--as in two weeks ago, in this here Weekly Alternative Newspaper and/or InterWebs site, I broke down how much it would cost to further your agenda in this space in this here paper, and I'm all kindsa excited because Don Farley of Baltimore, U. S. of A., gave me 10 bucks to put his name right up in here.

So see? The System works, man, and you can Get Yours, right here, as long as I Gets Mine. Plus, this week with all the words I gotta barf out to set up, present, and make my egress from the mentioning of that guy's name (remember, 10 bucks = one mention), I get, like, 10 percent of my column solved, which means at my rate of 17 cents a word I just made, like, somewheres around, I think, maybe approximately roughly almost $26.35 for poopin' out something to the tune of 155 words, according to the word counter-upper that comes with my friend Microsoft Word, which I did not get paid to mention but use proudly because that's what they put on my computer.

So, anyway, enough about me and my incredible Success Journey, because there's another reason I'm so jacked, and that is because it's one of the most wonderfullest, fantastical, and drinkiest times of the year, one of the Times of the Season for when All Techniques combinate into One, and that One is: Super Bowl.

Even though I barely even know which teams are playing and, deeper still, who's on 'em, I know the Important Stuff, like which Roman Numeral Super Bowl it is. This year it's Super Bowl XXXIX, but look, if you're not a Roman Numeral User, I'm not just gonna tell ya what number Super Bowl it is, but here's a hint: I make XVII cents a word, and I got this guy who's name I already mentioned to hand me X dollars just to put his name in the paper, and I burned up something like CLV words taking care of that little piece of business, and the point spread is VII.

Jesus Christ, man, when it's Super Bowl time I am Profoundly Affected. I see things sharper, but with a slightly blueish tinge, as my eyes automatically sense the nearness of Super Bowl and begin to naturally adjust themselves for hour upon hour of relentless teevee viewing. My sense of smell begins to dial down, the better to withstand the olfactory challenges I will face, both in the crowd of animals I will no doubt be surrounded by and, of course, the environs of whatever other kind of bowl I will require the use of as the Super Bowl spectacular continues. Plus, my hearing becomes harder, to protect my delicate but still-functioning brain from the emanations of all the meatheads who are screaming like howler monkeys for their team (I think Philadelphia is one team, I think) or for the score to match their number on one of those fun grids with all the numbers on 'em that you can win a bunch of money on with absolutely zero knowledge of football, or sports, even.

Super Bowl is the Holiest of Holies, the Stupidest of Stupids, in this One Nation Under God. A buncha guys run around in helmets klunking into each other and it becomes the Most Important Thing Happening in America for three hours or four hours or 10 hours or however long it takes to do a Bowl. There's gonna be famous people there, and probably some sorta scary display of military power to remind The Enemy that even though we're all drunk or hopped up on goofballs we're still gonna blow shit up if anybody fucks with us just one more time goddammit you sumbitches. Plus there's bizarro entertainment at Half Time and a whole bunch of commercials to help me make some decisions after Super Bowl when I'm back out there in The World wondering what kind of beer or delicious snack foods to buy for the next time I want to drink some beer or eat some salty and exciting snack foods. I know I already bolded beer a buncha times, but it just felt right, OK? Aw, c'mon, man, it's Super Bowl! Teevee! Snack food! XXXIX!

Are you gonna eat some chili or make some chili or go someplace where there's chili? I don't know what got into me, maybe I got a vitamin deficiency or something, but for some reason I really need to get my face in front of a bowl of chili when it's Super Bowl time, seriously. I don't even think I'd need to eat it. I mean, I really think I could almost be content to simply stand in its presence and maybe just huff some of the chili-licious vapors. Almost, OK? Ain't no way I'm parkin' my grill in front of some chili without gettin' all involved in it. Hey, if you got a good chili recipe, send it to me, huh? Even if it's chicken chili or crumbled textured vegetable protein chili or hot dog chili or something like that. I just wanna read about chili and look at pictures of chili and just, like, you know, ponder and meditate upon chili in this time leading up to Super Bowl. Do you know who else is playing?

Related stories
Comments powered by Disqus
Calendar
CP on Facebook
CP on Twitter