I'd like to thank Paul McCartney for not flashing the crowd at the Super Bowl, and for not dropping his pants.
Otherwise, it's probably the most boring halftime show I've ever seen. About as exciting as watching ice melt on top of drying paint. Granted, there's no Ashlee Simpson screaming incoherently and gyrating like an amateur stripper, and there's no Janet Jackson "wardrobe malfunction". And that's a good thing, by the way.
But the object of a Super Bowl halftime show shouldn't be to put the audience to sleep.
Then again, nothing else is really working tonight, either. The commercials are absolutely terrible, and the teams are playing like the loser is going to face a firing squad.
We'll have more later this week, as we bring you my Super Bowl XXXIX Diary. It'll be filled with pithy comments about the night's festivities, along with game, commercial, and commentator analysis. Look for that right here in The Official Weblog of The Bruce Ciskie Show.
No comments:
Post a Comment