Marv's Super Bowl Extravaganza

Marv Blackstone
Editor-in-chief

Are you all excited for Super Bowl XLII?

Well, whatever. I'm not.

All this hype and anticipation that leads up to the Super Bowl generally winds up being a big flop. And that's if the game actually has some initial promise. This game? This game is going to feel a tit. By halftime the Patriots will be up 42-0, you'll be looking for other things to do with your night, and Tom Brady will already be having a celebratory foursome in the locker room with Gisele, Karolina Kurkova and Wes Welker.

Meanwhile, Tom Coughlin will have stroked out and Eli Manning will be ready to go back home for some antique-shopping with his mother.

Did you think that I was just making that antique thing up? No, I wasn't. Read the article; Eli goes antique shopping with his mother.

There's been some discussion about whether or not Eli is the worst Super Bowl quarterback of all-time. He's probably not, but he's clearly the gayest.

Oh, you don't think he's gay because he's engaged to some girl? Big whoop. People get engaged for all sorts of reasons.

Even I was engaged once. Back in 1968, during the era of free love and Daryle Lamonica, I met a girl named Betsy. We went on a few dates and I fell for her. She was a strong, strapping woman, just the way I like them. Despite her broad shoulders and somewhat large head, she was soft and smelled wonderful.

After about six weeks, I decided I wanted to settle down in my life. A bit of a rush, you say? Not for me. I was ready to spend my life with Betsy.

One night, after a quiet dinner in a secluded spot near a forest, I bent to one knee and, after some brief cunnilingus, asked Betsy to be my wife. She accepted and we decided to get married two weeks later.

Unfortunately, during that time in my life, I had developed a habit of ingesting between 900 and 1,500 milligrams of mescaline each day. Turns out that Betsy wasn't really a woman. She was an American black bear. Due to my constant hallucinogenic state, I was unable to tell the difference. I always thought it was weird that while I would bring bologna sandwiches to dinner, she would eat skunk cabbage, raw crayfish and tree bark.

Naturally, I was devastated that I was not to be betrothed to an actual woman. I told Betsy that I had to break things off. With a large roar, she cried out in pain and retreated to her cave. She was upset, but I think she understood.

So, my point is, I was once engaged to a black bear. So it doesn't mean a damn thing that Eli Manning is engaged to a real, live woman.

Possible activity once the game gets boring: If you get bored with the slaughter, consider practicing one Grey Reugamer's favorite activites: biting the testicles off a lamb with your teeth.

Super Bowl recipe idea: Here's one of my all-time favorites. I call it the Marv-Vat, and I plan on having one or two of these while I sit down to watch the game.

Ingredients:
1 head of iceburg lettuce, finely chopped
1 styrofoam container of KFC gravy
8 slices of pastrami
6 slices of corned beef
2 hot dogs, cooked
1 summer sausage
6 slices of Wonderbread
1 pound of ground beef
1 jar of nacho cheese
2 cups sour cream
1 teaspoon chives
12 strips of bacon
1 Cinnabon, heated
4 cups heavy whipping cream
4 cups of water
3 cups barbecue sauce
10 Jalapeno peppers

Combine all ingredients into a large, plastic bowl. Smash the shit out of it with your fists until it forms a thick paste. Eat it with a spoon.

This is your NFC Champion: From MSNBC: "Coughlin thinks the stiff tests -- like beating the Miami Dolphins in London, like winning in Detroit when the Lions were 6-3 -- hardened his group."

The measure of a good team: One that takes pride in beating a 1-15 team in a foreign country.

What are you doing after the game?: Because this right here is what Tom Brady is doing after the game.

No, not the horse.