Fun With Super Bowls

I went to Indianapolis for the Superbowl this year.  I know, I've mentioned several times that I do not enjoy sports (see here and here).  But I'll be damned if I miss an opportunity to make fun of people for caring about something.  I mean, who do they think they are?  Being passionate and all that nonsense.  You might think I'm saying that because I'm jealous because I'll never have something I care about that much.  Well, smarty pants...

Moving on.

I didn't actually go to the game.  But I did have fun in all the madness around the city.  I happened to be captured in the best photograph I have ever been a part of in my life.

Best photobomb ever.

Just look at it.  We honestly had no idea that lady was back there.  But it looks like this photo simply formed around her.  The spotlight hit her perfectly.  I'm looking to the side as if I'm directing your eye to her.  Totally unplanned.  And we seemed to capture the exact moment she is about to say the word "luscious".

But it wasn't all fun in the dark.  The daylight brought out the crazies, too.  Like this lady.

First of all, there go my Saturday plans.  But party in hell cancelled due to fire?  Really?  That's like saying "Pool party cancelled due to wetness".  The whole reason to go to a hell party is for the fire.  I know, I've been to a hell party.  And honestly, hell isn't that bad.  In fact, if you're bad in hell, they send you back here.  You might think that's not so bad.  Well do you want to die?  No.  Do you want to die twice?  Hell no.  (Incidentally, that's where the phrase "Hell no" came from.)

Don't believe I've been to hell?  Take this crazy's word for it.

I'm at least four out of those five things.  Bonus points if you can guess which ones.

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Gonna Have You Naked By the End of This Blog

The New York Times reports that the Supreme Court has asked that the Third Appeals Court give "further consideration" to their overturning of the fines from the F.C.C. that resulted from Janet Jackson's exposed breast during the halftime performance with Justin Timberlake at the 2004 Super Bowl.

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The unexpected partial nudity lasted nine sixteenths of a second during halftime, but stayed in the mammary, ehem, memory of America more than the entire game.  Hey, some guys only need nine sixteenths of a second (right JohnO?  That's right, you got a shoutout on my blog).

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For God sakes, people, can't we just let the boobs go?  (Your "that's what she said" responses are duly noted.)  I mean damn America, haven't we milked this for long enough?  

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Is anyone even still offended by boobs?