FOND MEMORIES OF A SUPER BOWL UNWATCHED

I tried to watch the Super Bowl but lost interest in it about 30 seconds into the game.

I guess it helps if I give a crap about one of the teams, but I was indifferent to both of them. From what I understand, the Patriots were the underdogs, so I was halfway rooting for them.

Naturally, I was watching the game for the same reason as 90 percent of America...for the commercials and for an excuse to eat lots of junk food.

I don't remember any of the commercials except Britney F'n Spears Pepsi crap. Sorry Brit...you dancing around half naked is STILL not enough reason to make me drink that crap. As I've said before, I'd rather take a paper cup to a nursing home, let all the residents spit in it and drink their warm phlegm before I drank a Pepsi.

I think I've said that before.

Maybe I haven't.

I can never keep track of things I've said before. I say them, then forget I said them and then my memory gets fuzzy over what I said.

Whatever.

As far as "junk food" went, I ate Tostitos for the first time in five months.

I also had some of those ummmmm...Harvest Grain crackers. Yum. Best tasting "healthy" crackers on the market.

Followed that up with a sugarless Eskimo Pie Ice Cream Bar.

Whoohooo!

Living on the edge, I am.

Yesterday was my first day on the job as a deacon of the church.

I had what they call a "baptism by fire" there.

Which...I've gotta admit ... I thought they were going to submerge me into a pit of flames. I thought I'd agreed to participate in the ultimate fraternal hazing.

"Sear my flesh for the Lord!!"

Actually...my "baptism by fire" meant that I had the middle row when it came time to passing the communion trays.

Which doesn't sound tough. I had to watch the rows on BOTH sides of the church and when a communion tray made it to me, I took it and passed it to the next row.

Not a problem.

You know...until you're actually DOING it.

Then .... it's Problem City and I'm the Mayor.

At one point, the whole thing turned into a giant clusterfuck.

I had forgotten about the tray on my left, so I had a little old man whose arms were about to give out holding this oversized tray with little cups of grape juice all around it, waiting for me to take it. His muscles had deteriorated years ago and his arms were trembling as I was off in La-La Land, mentally adding up my expense report or something. One of the other deacons nudged me and pointed their head in the old man's direction.

I came THISCLOSE to saying "Shit!!"

I bolted over to the little old man, who was now breaking a sweat as he he managed to hold the tray for almost 30 seconds.

"Sorry," I whispered to him.

"It's okay," he lied through gritted teeth.

Other than that, I kicked deacon ass. I received several compliments after the service from people saying I looked like a natural up there with the other deacons.

Of course ... the people complimenting me were elderly and probably thought I was someone else up there. They probably thought Harrison Ford was the newest deacon or something.

I'm not saying I look like Harrison Ford.

I'm just saying.

Oh yeah!

I don't know how many of you read Spin Magazine, but I picked up the latest issue at the airport last week (KISS on the cover) and Diaryland is mentioned in a list of the top 20 cool things this month or some crap like that.

Apparently, we've been on the list for an entire year, and are currently listed at number 19.

It says something like "Diaryland.com. A million teenage girls can't be wrong."

I feel like a turd in a punchbowl. I'm a middle aged male in Diaryland. I feel like I've received the ultimate diss from Spin Magazine.

That's okay.

Creem Magazine always kicked Spin's ass in my opinion anyway.

And please...don't ask what Creem Magazine was. Just take solace in the fact that it rocked in its day.

I thought that running the names of the September 11th deceased during U2's halftime show was pretty cool.

However, I'm shocked to learn that of everyone who died in the World Trade Center, nobody's last name was higher than a "C" in alphabetical order.

Maybe I'm being a skeptic, but I'm pretty sure that they could have kept the list going past "C". The song wasn't even halfway over when they stopped running names.

What?

None of the "Smiths" that died mattered, Bono?

Huh??

Talk to me Bono.

Talk to me babe.

Alright, the baby's up ... I've gotta take him to daycare today ... I've gotta get my work stuff together, since I haven't officially unpacked from my business trip yet ...

...I must bid you adieu.

So uhhhhh...adieu.

Rawk on.