If Prince Wants A Camel, You Get Prince A Camel

So, that was disappointing. I realized when I woke up this morning that I didn't have any plans to watch the game, and it kind of started the ball rolling around in my head, what if I represent the antithesis of what everyone in this city is feeling right now? What if I have the saddest Superbowl Party ever? And I did. I cooked some eggs, a can of Heinz beans - bam, dinner for one. And that was gone before Billy Joel got through the National Anthem (On a side note, Marlee Matlin really showed him up while signing - the woman put her soul into that. When they got to the rockets red glare part, I wouldn't have been surprised if she had actually burst into a red glare - whatever that is exactly. Bravo, Marlee, Oscar caliber stuff there). And then the game was on. I watched it in the same clothes that I've been wearing all day - elastic band fleece pants, blue t-shirt, rattiest hoodie I own - on my couch. I fell asleep by the third quarter, so I didn't even get to see Rex Grossman work his way into the cholesterol clogged, hateful hearts of the sports fans of Chicago. I only woke up when someone from the party in the apartment below me went out into the alley and started to scream - "COLTS - WHOOOOOO!". I think he vomited a lung out. He then proceeded to yell some more.

One thing that didn't disappoint though? Prince. Like I said before, I've never been that big a Prince fan - what can I say, I'm not a very "sexy" person, so in kind of picking through the catalogue of music's history, I was never that interested in his stuff. But Jesus Christ on God mountain did he bring it tonight. I think its fitting that he did this about a month after James Brown's passing, because I would have no problem calling Prince the hardest working man in showbiz after this. I thought it was pretty good for a halftime show, but he really caught my attention when he started into the 'All Along The Watchtower' cover. It was really startling because I suddenly realized that I must not remember the words to 'All Along The Watchtower' at all. It wasn't until he got to the chorus that I realized he was singing the Foo Fighters.



He had me by the end of that. But then, holy shit. Before the show started, I was thinking that they were going to but up a tarp or something to keep the stage dry, but by the end, I almost think that Prince brought the rain. Because yes, I now fully believe that Prince can control the weather. He's that good. Playing 'Purple Rain' in the rain? And when he throws down the microphone at the end for the audience to sing, well, damn Prince, you can be all the funny little man with weird whims and funny suits you want - you've earned it.

I'm On My Fourth Heart Attack Of The Night

Are you ready for some football? Because I know I am. I've got my can of Hormel's Chili and bag of Blazin Buffalo Dorritos ready on the go - will they somehow find their way into some sort of glorious union? Stay tuned my friends, stay tuned and see.

I honestly don't think I would care about the game this year if I wasn't in Chicago. The Patriots aren't playing, so I don't have to watch to know what my dad will be talking about for the next week; there won't be any movie trailers in the ads this year, and I'm not really in a rush to watch that K-Fed ad that's already been on the internet for a week; and I've honestly never been that much of a Prince fan, unless he's trying to buy a camel at three in the morning in Minneapolis. Plus, the Super Bowl is on CBS this year, which means that instead of getting Sydney Bristow in two lingerie choices or Meredith Grey coming this close to getting blown up (God, I was hoping so hard), we get Mandy Patankin and Thomas Gibson pretending that they don't hate each other on a new episode of Criminal Minds. Whee.

And on top of all of that, the New York Times answered the one question I always think about at the end of the Superbowl - where do the other teams hats go? As soon as the trophy is presented to Tom Brady to hold, he was always outfitted in a ridiculously oversized t-shirt and cap proclaiming the Patriots victory, which means that there has to be a box full of the other teams shirts, mocking them with the victory that never was. So where do they go? Answer: Africa, a land where the Buffalo Bills are the greatest football team to have ever attempted the game.

Also, I saw 'Pan's Labyrinth' last night, and well, lets just put it this way, I think Brian Urlacher eats children.