The Big Game, Frozen Fog, and Closure on the Canadian Gift Certificate

super bowl 48 (1)Don’t you guys think it’s time for the Super Bowl to drop the Roman numerals already? I’m sure it seemed jazzy and cool in the beginning, but now there’s an L involved. Clearly, it’s gone too far when the L appears. Right? What’s next, a square? A top hat? It’s ludicrous.

Led Zeppelin (not to mention Chicago) made the same mistake, and eventually corrected the problem. There’s no shame in correcting. Is 48 so unforgivable? Would we all have to hang our heads in humiliation, if they started using numbers everybody understands? I mean, the Super Bowl is for drunken people who are shoving loaded potato skins into their mouths with the heels of their hands. I don’t think it’s necessary to bring in numerology from the year 500, or whatever.

Who’s with me on this important matter?!

For some reason I watched most of the game last night, and it was mildly entertaining. I was pulling for Seattle, even though I knew nothing about it. Denver rubbed me the wrong way, on a subconscious level, and I can’t explain why. So, I enjoyed the brutal ass-kicking.

I didn’t really know Bruno Mars either; I’d heard the name, but thought it was a band. But he seemed… enthusiastic. I dunno. It’s not my kind of thing, but few things are. He was a little prancy for my tastes.

The Chili Peppers were ridiculous, as usual. Those guys are going to explode a hip flailing around like that, at such advanced ages. Holy hell. It looked like they were caught-up in a swarm of bees.

The Bob Dylan commercial was surprising. Not because he agreed to promote a product, but because he now looks like an Asian woman. Oh well. So does Jimmy Page, so I guess I shouldn’t be shocked.

Any thoughts on The Big Game, as Target and Best Buy and K-Mart are forced to call it? If so, please share them in the comments section below.

I got up around 8:30 this morning, and it was snowing outside. I came down here to the bunker, with a mug of coffee, and my phone made a weird noise. A weather alert. I looked at it, and it warned about… frozen fog. What the? I’d never heard of such a thing. Is that for real?

What happens with frozen fog? Could you crash into it with your car, or maybe bounce off and go flying into the river or something? What do you know about the dangers of frozen fog? Hey, wasn’t that Mel Tormé’s nickname? Maybe not.

An update on an earlier item… Last night I ordered a fancy-ass Cross pen through Amazon Canada. With shipping (ridiculously high) it used up almost all of the $38 gift certificate I was having trouble spending. So, that’s that. I would’ve preferred a load o’ Quality Street candy, or a new laptop battery, but they wouldn’t ship either down here. I’m a nerd for nice pens, though. I think I chose well, under the circumstances.

And I’m going to call it a day, my friends. I’m taking a vacation day today, so I guess I’ll spend some of it shoveling snow off the driveway. Good stuff.

See ya again soon!

Now playing in the bunker
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Thanks for stopping by! My name is Jeff Kay, I was born while JFK was president, and it's all very embarrassing and corny. Today I'm a suburban husband and father, who is sometimes accused of being a bit tightly-wound. The West Virginia Surf Report! is my creative outlet, and insurance policy against completely losing my shit. I hope you'll stick around and participate in the lively community of geniuses and curmudgeons who hang out here every day. I love a full 87% of them! And while you're at it, please follow me at Twitter and Facebook.

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