Last week I was all set to write about a couple of completely unrelated non-sequitur moderately-retarded things that I felt (for whatever reason) that I needed to sound off on, despite the fact that not only does nobody give a shit about my bitching and complaining , but I also have it on good authority that about 60% of the people who visit the site jump straight to the Badass of the Week and don't even read the updates at all.  Still, I feel compelled to continue the futility that is my raging against the nonexistent bullshit machine.  Unfortunately, towards the end of the week I was embroiled in the meeting from hell, and I ended up writing about that instead.

On the one hand, that was great because it was all still fresh in my head and I was able to transcribe enough of the chicken-scratch shorthand I wrote in my crappy "meeting minutes" notebook to piece together a half-decent (by my standards) update.  However, this relegated the other shit to the back burner.  This week, I'm bringing it back to the forefront, and presenting you with a bunch of antiquated crap that's already at least fourteen days outdated.  Choke on it!

My Take on Prince's Halftime Show

First off, was there anything more perfect at Halftime of the Super Bowl than fucking Prince playing "Purple Rain" in the middle of a torrential South Florida downpour?  I already mentioned in my post two weeks ago that he represented one-half of the Ultimate Duality of Man, and it was just so fitting that he would get out there and do his thing to represent the "Chicks" side of man.  Just perfect.  I loved it.  The only way I would have loved it more was if Britney Spears was out there as well in like a white t-shirt with a python draped on her shoulders or something.  Oh, and when I say Britney Spears, I also should stipulate that I mean old Britney, and not the greasy-skinned trailer-trashy slut she's mutated into in the past few years.  Sure, I'd still do the holy living hell out of her, knowing full well that it's fucking K-Fed's sloppy seconds, but I would really only be doing it because I strongly feel morally obligated by my gender to do so.  Sure, it's probably weird and misguided, but I feel bound by honor to bonk Britney Spears if I had the chance.  It's just one of those things, like how you wouldn't turn down Carmen Electra if you had the chance, if for no other reason than just to say that you had.

Disturbing segue aside, some people seem to think that Prince went too far when he came out with that bitchin-ass phallic purple guitar and held it in front of his crotch as if it were his gigantic package and he was beating it like a submariner with porn:

(Insert cartoony "boing" sound here)

I say bullshit.  I think it fucking wasn't raunchy enough.

Do you remember how over-the-fucking-top some of Prince's old videos were?  Considering what they *should* have expected, the fucking Super Bowl organizers got off lucky.  I mean, I gotta be honest with you:  Sexx and I both wanted to see something like the the 1991 VMAs when Prince came out to the sound of explosions and fire, humped the stage, humped his backup dancers, and then performed "Gett Off" in assless yellow leather chaps while licking the microphone like a porn star with a lollipop.  Janet and Justin set a pretty high bar for Super Bowl indecency a couple years ago, and I was absolutely convinced that it was Prince's fucking moral obligation to get out there and top "Nipplegate" by whipping out his boner and bashing the entire front row of the audience in the face with it or conscripting a legion of high-class escorts to get on a stage shaped like a vagina and hump while he shot off his crazy ejaculating guitar and screeched at the top of his lungs for twenty minutes straight.  Since he knew that might not have flown, he did the next best thing:  He used the ultimate extension of a man's penis - the guitar - and he projected it to such a magnitude that it covered more yardage than Rex Grossman's longest completion of the night.

Oh yeah, and he brought out The Motherfuckin' Florida A&M Marching 100, who, for those of you who are uninitiated, are THE single most badassed marching band in the history of music.  And before you even go there and ask me what's badass about a marching band, it is absolutely imperative that you watch the video I just linked to.  They're like the fucking London Symphony Orchestra meets "You Got Served", and they play marching band arrangements of hardcore rap songs.  Plus, a couple of the Marching 100 guys lived in the same apartment complex as me in college, and these guys are pretty fucking far removed from your typical "band nerd".  They're tough dudes, and they are in good fucking physical condition.

I am a rattler, and I will strike.

All in all, I thought it was totally sweet.  As for the game itself - a little anticlimactic after the AFC Championship matchup.  It ended up being good news for Indiana native Lucius, and bad news for native Chicagoan Bill.

It is imperative that I own this guitar, or at least one exactly like it.

The Mooninite Invasion of Boston

I'm sure most of you have heard about the insane bomb scare that went down around these parts not too long ago, where a couple of dirty hippie looking dudes went around town plastering light-up Mooninites all over the place and giving the entire city of Boston the finger.  Unfortunately, the po-po noticed these "suspicious packages" all over the place and started this huge panic, releasing statements saying that they were detonating these "devices", which had been planted on bridges, tunnels, and other shit.  Major interstates and tunnels were closed.  Mass transit was put on high alert.  The Mooninites had invaded.

I haven't really been into the Aqua Teen Hunger Force since my senior year of college, when my entire experience with the show basically revolved around downloading all 8 episodes that were currently in existence, watching them on my computer with my friends and getting fucking stoned out of our damn minds.  To this day, I really feel that's one of the only ways to truly appreciate the series' intricate nuances.  It's sort of like how my friend Pat from high school used to tell me that they filmed The Doors movie with a special camera that revealed secret footage and hidden messages that were only noticeable if you watched it while you were tripping balls on acid.  However, despite my being a less-than-rabid fan of the series, I have to admit that this incident is fucking hilarious.  After being freaked out all day that some whack-ass terrorists were planning some sort of organized strike on the city I live in, it was totally awesome to realize that the entire city had just been fucked over by the Mooninites.  And yeah, I feel kind of bad for the two dipshits who are going to get arraigned on terrorism charges or whatever, but it's their own dumbass fault for not saying something when the five-oh were strapping TNT to Ignigknot's head and blowing him into Moon shrapnel.

Where's Frylock when you need him?

I hope Boston can see this, because he's doing it as hard as he can.

My Favorite Websites Are Now Confusing and Shitty

I don't know if it's just the season for it or what, but a couple of my favorite websites have completely overhauled their page layouts, seemingly with the objective of obfuscating 95% of their content and cluttering the entire page with mystifying Flash garbage that's about as easy to decipher as the plot of a poorly translated Japanese Role-Playing Game.  Both Something Awful and Yahoo! Sports apparently took stock of their websites and thought to themselves, "Hm, the obvious straight-forward, easy-to-follow, plain-text approach needs to be made more Xtreme... I know!  I'll take all of the actual content that people come to the site to read and relegate it to a two-inch by two-inch sidebar!  This will allow me plenty of room to make ridiculous Flash menus and shit that will be so awesome and high-tech that whenever anybody looks at this website their brains will explode out the back of their heads with such force as to dent concrete!"

Even Google got in on it for a couple days last week when going to the main page brought up your "personalized Google", whereas "personalized" means "cluttered with extraneous shit like a gigantic fucking blue clock, a stupid joke about dentistry and all the top news stories straight out of rural Nebraska".  Yeah, here's a tip, Google:  People choose you over other search engines because they don't like being bombarded with truckloads of horseshit that they're not interested in.  The plain, "boring" format is why they keep returning to the site.  The same goes for those other pages as well.  I understand you need to make more room for advertisements or whatever, but both SA and Yahoo! Sports have content that speaks for itself and doesn't need to be shoved behind an impenetrable wall of steaming crap or buried beneath a hieroglyphic ocean of incomprehensible menus.  I guess it makes your shit look more cutting-edge or whatever, but I don't go to a website to admire it's artwork - I go to it to read fucking content.

Well you guys don't have to worry about this site ever changing.  It's going to look like a retarded 4th grader's shitty HTML personal website forever.  TextEdit 4 Life!

Every Time I Have Sex with Andrea, It Ruins Her Day

Yeah, yeah, I know this borders on TMI for you guys, but I feel like I need to tell the story of my Cursed Cock of Bad Luck -5.  This is a sad tale that is quickly turning into something of a scientific Law:  Every time Hot Andrea and I have sex in the morning, something fucking terrible happens to her during the day.  Every single time, without fail.  I don't know why, and I don't understand it, but it is invariably true.

I know you may think I'm exaggerating or degenerating to my trademark hyperbole, but take a look at some of the terrible things that have happened this month alone on days where we have had A.M. get-busy-time:

• She received a letter in the mail stating that she owed $175 in back taxes to the State of Massachusetts.
• The driver's side door of our car got stuck in the down position when some sort of rotor blew.  Andrea was out in a parking lot on the other side of the city at the time, and the temperature was in the single digits.  By the time she got home her entire left side was tinted purple and completely numb.  Repairs cost us over $400.
• Andrea got into deep shit at work when she was busted fucking off and starting drama on an online message board.
• She beefed it on some ice while walking to the bus stop.
• A gigantic fucking snowstorm hit, and in order to get to the store we both had to wade through knee deep snow (which had pretty much entirely solidified into ice) in the dark, in wind chills of -12, and spent an hour digging our fucking car out of the goddamned glacier that was now encasing it like some kind of giant metal Cro-Magnon man.  Andrea got borderline frostbite on both feet when she stepped off the sidewalk right into a calf-deep puddle of freezing cold water.

Alone, these could be viewed as coincidence.  But this stuff, combined by all the horrible shit that has happened in this situation in the past, really leads me to believe that I have some sort of Mummy Curse or something attached to my junk.  I used to think it was God getting vengeance on us for living in sin and fornicating, but now I think it's probably just because in general God Hates Her.