A Super Bowl recap by someone who doesn't care all that much about the Super Bowl.

In case you skipped the Super Bowl and/or were not in my apartment last night, here's a recap: 

That coat. Ok, so Joe Namath came out dressed like a PETA member’s worst nightmare and I was like “Wait….does anyone else see that coat that Joe Montana is wearing?” And then everyone in the room was like “That’s Joe Namath.” And I still didn’t know the difference but figured I was ahead of the game for knowing that his name was Joe.

Anyway, the coat got a Twitter following that was larger than mine after approximately 45 seconds, and so that’s gotta mean something? Probably that our society is crumbling before our eyes but we’re too busy creating Twitter handles for our pets and clothing to notice.  

Unnecessary Fluffness. (yes, yes I did.)

“This is a bizarre night.” I’m pretty sure that this was my favorite commercial. That guy was legitimately up for whatever - Bud Light was right! And he basically had the best response ever to Don Cheadle in an elevator with a llama.

That first play.  Don’t I sound sporty? For those of you who didn’t catch it, neither did Peyton Manning (burn). And everyone in the room exploded and I was like “Wait, what just happened?” and then after a few minutes of more exploding and talking to each other about what just happened, I said “No seriously, somebody fill me in.” And then they did. And then I nodded along because football makes zero sense if you only partially care.

I realized I’m super-old. So was it just me or did seeing an oddly buff and full-haired Anthony Kedis weird you out and make you feel old while simultaneously making you hum “Under the Bridge” while turning down your television because music these days is just so loud?

No? Just me? Moving on.

We deep fried everything. About a month ago, CB and I got a deep fryer as a gift and it was basically the best thing ever. Obviously. Also, it’s helped my wedding waistline tremendously and has encouraged us to think outside of the fried chicken box.

And by “us” I mean our friend Matt who started sending random deep frying requests via text several weeks in advance.

“Oreos?”
“Twinkies?”
“I want to try a deep fried pickle.”

So naturally we decided that a day of gluttony and football wouldn’t be complete without trying all three. Which we did. And it was glorious.

Except the pickles.

Matt: “I loved everything except the pickles.”
Me: “Why, what did it taste like?”

Pause

Me: “Like deep fried pickles?”
Matt: “Yeah, like deep fried pickles.”
Me: “They can’t all be winners.”

I schooled Betty Crocker. BOOM. Creative max reached. 

Happy Monday!