Forget about the never ending analysis that takes into account the matchup of football skill…the Super Bowl is bigger than that. As I gnaw my fingernails and pound beers in the fear that Peyton Manning will get a second ring and a group blowjob from the press room, these are the factors that give me hope for a Saints upset.
Like so many Americans, the Cowells will be hosting a Super Bowl party tomorrow. The initial idea was to have both teams represented in cuisine. New Orleans – gumbo, jambalaya, etouffee, muffalatas, beignets, crawfish boils…that’s just off the top of my head. After a half-hour of searching, I found out that Indy is known for…breaded pork tenderloin sandwiches. I don’t have the heart to tell them every hospital cafeteria in America is too.
Slutty Celebrity Couples
Kim Kardashian is a no-talent, annoying reality star with questionable sex appeal. Reggie Bush is an overrated running back whose name is much bigger than his production. You’d think that they have to be the most worthless couple associated with this game. But you’d be forgetting about Hank Baskett (who somehow manages to be unknown and overrated at the same time – 4 whole receptions this year) and Kendra Wilkinson (the most irritating Girl Next Door…and that’s saying something).
Dan Burton represents the northern suburbs of Indianapolis. He’s been in the House since 1983, in which time he chaired the investigation of the death of Vincent Foster and led the charge of idiots believing he was murdered; he’s taken so many free gifts and trips that the House banned the practice in 2007 by a vote of 430-1, and he was the 1; and even though he was the chairman of the Western Hemisphere Subcommittee, he suggested we “place an aircraft carrier off the coast of Bolivia and crop dust the coca fields” – Bolivia is land-locked. New Orleans is governed by the Napoleonic code, which isn’t understood by anybody anywhere else (except France), and nobody can understand what the fuck anybody there is saying anyway.
Every time Sean Payton is shown on the sidelines, it looks like he hasn’t been outside in about five years and might currently be dying of anemia. Every time Jim Caldwell is shown on the sidelines, he looks dead.
Biggest Party of the Year
New Orleans has Mardi Gras, which features drag queens, bare breasts and Hurricanes. Indianapolis has the Indy 500, which features drivers with names nobody can pronounce even if they had heard of them driving around in a circle for 6 hours.
Both N.O. and Indy are football/basketball-only towns. The Pacers are still so scarred by the Ron Artest/Stephen Jackson fight incident that they’re currently trying to fill their roster with only overrrated white guys (Tyler Hansbrough, Troy Murphy, Mike Dunleavy, Travis Diener, Jeff Foster, Josh McRoberts – seriously, all these guys are on the same NBA team). The Hornets have Chris Paul, the most exciting point guard of this generation. They have no history to speak of, but the best Pacers player ever was Reggie Miller, so we’ll give them the edge there too.
I’m not even going to look this up (as far as you know).
New Orleans gave us Buddy Bolden, who gave us jazz; King Oliver, who gave us Dixieland; Louis Armstrong; and the Neville and Marsalis families. Indianapolis gave us Babyface, who gave us this song that Peter King once put on a mixtape he gave to Peyton Manning:
Indianapolis has a murder rate 1.75 times the national average (and they call themselves a city); New Orleans is rocking 7.54 times (that’s more like it).
Best Place for An Amish Bachelor Party
Had to give the good people of Indianapolis something…what can I say, I’m a fair man.
Fuck Peyton Manning. Go Saints.