You gonna eat that?

Ah, the 40th Super Bowl (thanks SusieC!)... Uniquely American. And especially so this year, what with the "XL" designation.

But for anyone who doesn't care much about a game involving big guys wearing shoulder pads and tight pants, with dark eye-makeup smudged under their eyes, moving a ball down a 100 yard field approximately three or four yards at a time, where the plays usually end in a large pile-up of said big guys...for anyone who is planning on watching the last few minutes of the game solely for the purpose of ensuring that they don't miss the beginning of Grey's Anatomy..........the real entertainment is the ads.

At $2.5 million per 30-second slot (or so the Husband says), they better be pretty entertaining. Right? One would think.

And then there was Burger King. Watching their G-rated version of Vegas Showgirls dressed as beef patties, buns and condiments leap into a pile to create some sort of giant, human burger sandwich fell somewhat short of entertaining, stopping somewhere between strange and vulgar.

The Husband and I couldn't figure out if the top of the sandwich was Brooke Burke or Eva Longoria. In any event, it struck us as a sort of sad commentary on the career of whomever had taken the job as the top of the sandwich, regardless of the fat paycheck we can only assume was involved.

But what struck me as even sadder was the fate of the poor meat patty-girl, stuck as she was under a pile of condiment girls and Brooke/Eva/whoever.

And it just may have put me off of meat (now if we could only work on the Diet Peach Snapple).

YC