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KellyB’s February 12, 2006 How boring was that Superbowl? I didn’t give a crap about either of the teams that were playing, but to give them their due for making it all the way to the championship; I was prepared to just enjoy the game based on merit alone. What was I thinking? The game was tortuous to watch – even the pregame show, which I think actually began sometime on Thursday night, was painful. Then we had to watch poor Aaron Neville struggle to hear his own falsetto rendition of the National Anthem get lost in the formidable boobified performance of Aretha Franklin. Talk about being upstaged. But the capper… the absolute capper was suffering through that God-awful boringfest of a halftime show with The Flintstones, oh wait, it was the Rolling Stones. Easy mistake to make. I mean, come on – collectively these guys are older than the United States of America! Besides being basically unintelligible, ABC had them on a 5 second delay and bleeped out key lyrics during “Satisfaction” and “Start Me Up” – ‘you make a dead man BLEEP’ – censorship, * sigh * It says a lot about the quality of Superbowl halftime entertainment when the absolute highlight is the hooting and howling of the fans when exposed to the horror of Mick Jagger’s arm flab.
I guess if there was a saving grace, it was the commercials – but even they fell short of expectations. For two mil for 30 seconds I expect a whole lot more. At any rate, there were a couple of standouts – here’s my top three: http://www.ifilm.com/superbowl?htv=12 1. Budweiser - Superfan2. Ameriquest – Turbulence 3. Disney World – I’m going to… Hall of Fame: 2003 Terry Tate Office LinebackerInteresting stuff’s been going on here on the home front. Long story short is that I’ve accepted a new job. But here’s the long story anyway. After moving here six months ago, I took some time off to feather our new nest and just be. I did have a part time job during that time, but suffice it to say that some village was missing its’ idiot and I think he was my boss! I decided that the time and effort wasn’t worth it and split just before Christmas. That was all good because since then I’ve had my parents, my in-laws and my brother-in-law and his family hit town for visits. So it was nice to have plenty of time to do the Christmas thing in low gear and just be able to hang out with my peeps while they were here. Shortly after I jumped ship on my p/t job, an acquaintance called and asked if it would be okay to give my name and number to a fellow she knew who was looking for a personal assistant – sure, why not? Anyway, he called and after a phone interview, extended a job offer to me. The catch was that he was like a Howard Hughes in training. First off, he’s loaded. I don’t mean comfortable or even well off. This guy probably shits gold bricks. I wasn’t going to hold that against him, but the more he described the job duties to me, the more weirded out I got. I glanced around the office looking for the jar in which he kept his nail clippings as I tried to politely decline and he upped the G-D offer. Then I tried to be diplomatic and said that I would discuss it with my hubby (I had no intention of changing my answer) and get back to him. Then I left the office and ran for my life. That afternoon I got a call from his other secretary, Ida. Watch out she said, as he was planning on calling me again to turn the screws. I told her the job wasn’t for me but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She told me that the only thing that would stop his full frontal assault was for me to say point blank “my husband won’t allow me take the job”. That would be the only acceptable reason in his mind for turning down this job. Now anyone who knows me knows that to have to say those words would just about kill me. Dead. On the spot. Call the undertaker and fire up the hearse. I just couldn’t do it. I love my husband and I respect his opinion enormously. We discuss things and make mutual decisions. But the fact of the matter is that my husband loves me enough, respects me enough and trusts my judgment enough not to even suggest stupid shit like “I won’t allow you.” Besides which, he likes having sex every 10 days or so and isn’t ready to give that up!! At any rate, I decided that I would attempt to ‘just say no’ and would resort to the “my husband…” line only if dire circumstances warranted it. Mostly I just felt so guilty for not accepting this job. I mean, it wasn’t going to be hard work, the money was pretty impressive, especially for part time. It just wasn’t for me. The next morning I called and told him that I didn’t think the job was a good fit for me. He told me I could change the hours, the duties, whatever I wanted. I told him I didn’t think it would be fair to his other staff to come in from out of nowhere and jump to the head of the line and he said he’d ‘take care of them’. I finally got tired of trying to come up with half-assed excuses and finally took a huge gulp and said… “My husband won’t allow me to take the job.” Oh my God – I’m still alive. Well that finally got him to back the hell off and I figured that was that. Cut to last week and I’m sitting around with the clicker in my hand (there was laundry in the washer and in the dryer, so technically I wasn’t loafing) and the phone rings and it’s Ida, Mr. E’s other secretary. “He’s going to call you again,” she said. “It’s been a month, surely he’s found someone to pick up his meds at CVS and read his Forbes to him,” I said. “He did, she sucks and he wants YOU.” Ugh. Sure enough a few minutes after hanging up with Ida, the phone rings and it’s him. “I’m flattered you thought of me, but no I’m sorry – I’ve just started a new job”. Just a small fib, but a fib still. So to ease my Italian/Catholic guilt, I got on the Internet that afternoon and checked out www.craigslist.com. For anyone who isn’t familiar with it, it’s a site that allows both employers and job seekers to post free ads. So I’m browsing and I find something that sounds pretty good – with a fax number to shoot them my fax. I did, they called – two interviews later and I start this coming Monday! I’m going to be trained as a “money mover” which is something like a closer for this corporation that acts as investment advisors primarily to senior citizens. It’s kind of cool because this is a bona-fide position as opposed to a j-o-b job. I’m ‘cited. And now I feel like I didn’t really lie to the old guy after all. Kind of like a little aftermarket confession. It’s all good. I’ll let you know how it turns out.
Asshole(s) of the Week Britney Spears driving in LA with her 5 month old son, Spencer on her lap. Unrestrained. Hey – screw up your own life, tank your career and put up with that wife-beater wearing, chicken fried skeezix of a hubby. But don’t – I repeat, DON’T put your kid in danger. It’s not his fault you’re stupid. Spears later said that paparazzi were aggressively following her causing her to make a decision to leave the area as soon as possible. A passing motorist shot the amateur photo with his cell phone. Britney had her bodyguard in the car at the time, but he wasn’t driving and he didn’t have any free hands to actually hold the baby, as he was too busy holding their Starbucks double tall, decaf, full fat mochachino lattes with a dash of cinnamon. After all, a girl’s gotta have her priorities straight. Smooches Babycakes!
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