"What if she puts on that pointy bra and tries to adopt all of our children?! ARGHH, RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!!!!

1. Madonna has agreed to perform at Super Bowl XVIVLELCCCL so cue the outrage from locals: WHAT ABOUT JOHN COUGAR, A REAL HOOSIER?! Granted, a visit from Madonna would’ve been a bit more relevant 20 years ago, but are the pedophiles people clamoring for Justin Bieber being realistic? Despite our first-rate accommodations, it’s not like old Madge had to fight off U2 with a boxcutter for the privilege of visiting Indy in February. I mean, have you seen even non-celebrities departing airplanes in Indianapolis? It’s the same look of resignation that shelter dogs have after being returned to their cages. As for me, Neil Diamond could perform during a mass gay marriage while a bunch of controversial artists do weird stuff to crucifixes and I wouldn’t give a shit because, like 99.999999999% of the population I’ll either be eating, going to the bathroom or cracking jokes about Packers fans* (possibly all 3 at once). I’ve watched every Super Bowl for the past 30 years and I can’t recall a single halftime show, other than 3 years ago when Bruce Springsteen slammed his crotch into a camera and my (then pregnant) wife was awoken by my screams.

*You know how even in the dead of Winter you still have sort of a tan line? That nether region (the body’s Lambeau, if you will) are what Packers fans resemble: somehow whiter, fatter and hairier than everyone and everything else.

2. The outrage regarding the above item juxtaposed with the media silence over this tells you all you need to know about THE GREATEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD [(c) Hacksaw Jim Duggan]. So we’re still killing tens of thousands of people from our last war to spread freedom prop up a brutal dictator who we later saw fit to oust …which supposedly ended 40 years ago. But at least we’ve learned our lesson about meddling in distant civil wars and the US is taking the lead in ensuring that the use of cluster bombs remains outlawed. Wait, I had that backwards. Funny how if those Vietnamese were killed by hurricanes we’d provide some half-assed relief, while deaths from US weapons will at most raise concern over local Nike factories. As usual, no one says it better than The Onion.

3. A depressing realization hit me as I was struggling like gangbusters to hit my Mendoza Line of 30 minutes on the stationary bike. Growing up, I desperately wanted to play football. When that failed (and several years went by), I realized my fitness ceiling was looking like someone who might’ve played football.  When that failed (and several years went by), my ceiling sank to resembling a professional tennis player. Now, at 36, my best-case scenario is a (retired) doubles player. It’s just humbling to acknowledge that IF I exercise regularly AND I don’t eat like an asshole (and never visit New Orleans) I’ll hopefully look like this. Perhaps I’m just being overly sensitive because yesterday my wife saw me naked in the daylight for the first time in about 9 years. Well, not totally naked. There was a wardrobe malfunction with my boxers and some business made an unsolicited cameo. For my wife, it was very much like seeing a mouse stuck in a trap: not totally unsurprising, but sad and unsightly nonetheless. So what should I do to bring the sexy back? Whiten my teeth? Skinny jeans? Please discuss in comments.

HAPPY PARENTING STORY OF THE WEEK

I’ve learned that parenting is a (hopefully) voluntary journey of a million indignities. Like a deranged prison warden you find yourself screaming things like “if you don’t stop putting batteries in the grocery cart then we’re not watching cartoons! THAT MEANS NO TEAM UMI ZOOMI!” (while a crowd of horrified shoppers look on). Anyway, this week my 3 y/o innocently pulled a stunt that turned our upstairs into a FEMA Superfund site. He’s been potty-trained for a while, but still wears a pull-up at night and is uniquely inefficient with toilet paper. And yesterday his penchant for waiting until the last possible moment to head for the toilet reared its ugly head.” I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say it involved washing bed sheets, plunging a toilet and feverishly scrubbing my hands like an OCD surgeon. Words fail. It made this scene from Silence of the Lambs look like a Thomas Kinkade painting. It’s days like that that make me genuinely wonder why/how those white trash Christian families make babies until their genitals practically fall off.

4. So I’m guessing those bumper stickers of Calvin peeing on a BCS logo are selling like HOT CAKES in Stillwater, OK. But since I’d rather burn myself with a car cigarette lighter than discuss the Bowl Championship Series (mainly since Ohio State is stuck in the colossally shitty and irrelevant Gator Bowl), we’ll leave that sordid story for another day.

Have a good day.