MMBF - 2/8: They call me The Prognosticator

Good morning to everyone, especially those who are at work today even though they are either incredibly hungover or on the verge of puking because they ate too much at their Super Bowl party last night (me). Our country is a better place because you're playing hurt; your efforts do not go unnoticed. Except maybe by your bosses. Anywho, on the the Farting.

I was at the Rangers - Capitals game last week - only 6 rows off the ice thanks to a good friend of mine - and while it was a pretty tough loss to take, I must say that it is almost impossible to put into words how good Alexander Ovechkin is, in person and up close. He's unreal. The power, the speed, the quickness... it's just unbelievable to see him live. Obviously I booed the crap out of him every time he touched the puck and told him repeatedly how much he sucks, among other things, but it's like seeing Michael Jordan in person during his prime (not that I ever did, but I imagine this is what it would be like). One man, the single greatest player in the world at his sport, playing at the top of his game - and I got to see it. It's something I can tell my grandkids about one day. At one point Rangers defenseman Dan Girardi, who isn't exactly weak, took a run at Ovechkin by the boards in front of the Capitals bench, which I was right behind. Ovechkin didn't even see him coming, but Girardi merely bounced right off of him and hit the ice. Ovechkin then just stood over him and smiled, as if to say, "Please. That's all you got?" He's incredible. And he knows it. So do the rest of us.

The Rangers, however, rebounded from that crappy loss to the Caps with a resounding win over the hated Devils on Saturday, 3-1. It was a close-knit battle until the Rangers exploded for 3 goals in the second period, with miraculously only one of them coming from Marian Gaborik. The barrage on Devils goalie Martin Brodeur was fun to watch, and made even more thrilling by the Garden crowd serenading that piece of crap with chants of "MAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRTYYYYYYY... MAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTYYYYYYYYYYYY." There are few things cooler than hearing 18,200 people getting on that prick Brodeur completely in unison. Henrik is the King in this battle.

For Secret Non-Secular Joy Giver Version 2.0 this past Christmas (Secret Santa to you laypeople), I received, among other things, a plastic object that at first looked to be a dildo. Seeing as I'm not into that sort of thing, I examined it further, hoping that it was something else. Turns out it was. It was a Banana Bunker, which is basically a plastic case you put a banana in so that when you take it to work or whatever it doesn't get bruised by banging around in your bag. So I finally purchased bananas last week (apparently I was on a potassium strike or something?) and took one to work in the Bunker. And by golly, it worked like a charm. No bruises. Fresh Banana. Great product. So do yourself a favor and pick up a Banana dildo when you get a chance! Here is a photo of it in action:



Friday I stayed in and watched Groundhog Day on TV... with commercials. But even with commercials, that movie never gets old. It's Bill Murray at his best, back in the glory days when he was actually funny, instead of now where he takes himself too seriously and only acts in artsy, pretentious indie flicks. Also, I think they could have done better than Andie MacDowell for his love interest, but that's just me. Despite Andie, however, it's a classic flick. Friday I stayed in and watched Groundhog Day on TV. With commercials. But even with commercials, that movie never gets old. It's Bill Murray at his best, back in the glory days when he was actually funny, instead of now where he takes himself too seriously and only acts in artsy, pretentious indie flicks. Also, I think they could have done better than Andie MacDowell for his love interest, but that's just me. Despite Andie, however, it's a classic flick. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA SEE WHAT I DID THERE?!?!??!?!?!?! GROUNDHOG DAY!!!!!!!! IT REPEATS!!!!!!!

Yesterday was of course the Super Bowl, but beforehand was a much more important event (as far as my woman is concerned): Puppy Bowl VI on Animal Planet. Basically a bunch of puppies play with each other, and MAYBE one of them picks up a toy and crosses the goal line with it, scoring a touchdown. They have hamsters operating the blimp, bunny rabbit cheerleaders, and a water bowl-cam for an up close and personal look at dogs drinking. It's all very thrilling. But during it was a commercial for Dentastix, which is some chew-thing that keeps dogs teeth healthy. The commercial is absolutely hilarious. Please observe:



Maybe this is just another RoadKill: Caught on Tape thing for me, but I think the puppies with the dentures is soooooo freaking funny. If I ever get a dog I'm gonna make him/her wear dentures so I can laugh all the time.

As for the Super Bowl itself, here are my thoughts: Carrie Underwood, how 'bout you show some leg girl? No man in the desired Super Bowl demographic wants to see you in a pant suit, sweetie... I thought Dwight Freeney looked pretty good for a guy with torn ankle ligaments as he registered the only sack of the evening. Granted, I'm sure my ankle would feel pretty swell too if I was injected with every numbing agent legally available to an athlete. It was obvious that whatever he was given had worn off by the second half... The onside kick to begin the second half by the Saints was one of the greatest, ballsiest calls I have ever seen. I absolutely loved it. It's great to see a coach who isn't affected by the moment; a coach who doesn't change how he plays the game based on how big the occasion is. Sean Payton likes to take risks, and obviously the Saints are successful because of it. Why change who you are when it matters most for fear of messing up? Not many coaches would have done that. Kudos to a man who once had his play-calling duties taken away from him by Jim Fassel when he was the Giants offensive coordinator in 2000. I'm going to go wash my eyes out with gasoline now... The other aspect of the onside kick that was incredible was that Hank Baskett was the one who screwed the pooch for the Colts and let the ball hit him in the face rather than just catch it with his hands. It figures a former Eagle would be the one to ruin things in a Super Bowl! He must still have that Philly stink on him... The Colts could not stop Drew Brees as the game wore on, but the opposite was true with Peyton Manning. A little bit of the old Peyton came out last night, not the new Peyton that owns the end of important games. It was odd to see that. The Peyton Manning who owned the Jets two weeks ago doesn't throw that pick-six to Tracy Porter to ice the game... Not too many memorable commercials, though I loved the "Punxatawny Polamalu" spot where the midget Troy Polamalu gets pulled out of a log and sees his shadow. I thought the Tim Tebow commercial was much ado about nothing as well, just an innocent story which then leads you to their website. You don't have to go to the website if you don't want to. And to all the woman's rights groups who are complaining about the commercial having an "undercurrent of violence against women" because Tim tackled his mother - get a life and stop taking yourself so seriously.

And finally, the reason why they call me The Prognosticator: Last year I began the tradition of bringing themed beer to Super Bowl parties, as in I bring beer that is from the town of one of the two teams in the big game. The Steelers played the Cardinals in last year's game of course, so I brought Iron City, a deliciously awful beer from Pittsburgh that I thought appropriate for the occasion. As you know, the Steelers won. This lead me to decide that I could determine the winning team in the Super Bowl by what beer I bought. Talk about power... about influence. I did not take this responsibility lightly. So this year I put a lot of careful thought into my beer purchase, knowing that the destiny of two teams rested on my decision. I ultimately decided on Abita beer, which is from New Orleans. Who won the game? Yep. That's right. 100% record still intact. Prognosticator out.

Ugh. Another week of work.