17 Comments

You were there, in real life, for Prince at the Super Bowl.

Prince, singing Purple Rain in the rain.

You were there.

Fooking priceless.

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"fruit salad that was mostly honeydew and cantaloupe (worst fruits in fruit salad)" = the truest words ever written.

Also, thanks for making us feel good about never being invited by corporate bigwigs (or anyone else) to a Super Bowl -- that was nice of you.

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Wait just a minute. If this was the only Super Bowl you’ve ever been to how do you have two Super Bowl rings? Did you rob Tom Brady? Buy them off the internet? Win them in a poker game?

I feel so confused right now. It’s as if up is down, left is right, Ted Cruz isn’t an asshole. Nothing makes sense. What a world, what a world…

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Sorry, I should clarify: I meant it was the only Super Bowl I attended *in which I was not competing*.

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Oh thank god. This was the first time I’ve ever truly understood what it means to feel shook. What a relief.

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True comedy gold bullion right here, sir:

1. So then I felt like I had to go over and watch Stevie Nicks perform just as a sign of respect and thank God she only played a couple more songs after that because I don’t really like Stevie Nicks and the only thing I could think about watching her play was I wonder how much money she’s getting.

2. or the glare from a million pairs of Dockers.

Thank you. So much.

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Dockers. Lolol. When you’re uncool, or think you’re going “biz casual”, you should be wearing Levi’s. I got no respect for a corporate type who wears dockers instead of jeans when they’re off.

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I was just going to read one paragraph (because I subscribe to about 1,000 good substacks and thus have that number of unread emails) but I got sucked in to the finish by the great writing, and I'm not sorry!

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My ex fiancé went to the Super Bowl twice without me during our relationship. Glad I kicked him to the curb.

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I love this genre of essay. Please write more. Hilarious.

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Awaiting a sequel on the aftermath, when the hometown crowds turn out to celebrate. I hope it's set in Philadelphia where the police grease utility polls to [unsuccessfully] prevent revelers from climbing and puking down in personal triumph.

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"The overall aesthetic is raffle winner." Explosions of confetti and flights of helium balloons burst from my computer screen as I read this Super Take on the Super Bowl.

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Well said. The thing is that games are so bad and so boring that when one doesn’t suck, everyone congratulates themselves that things weren’t TOTALLY terrible.

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This was a fun read, but I still can’t fully back content from MIB until he and Cavanaugh come clean about the fact that Cavanaugh was eating Raisin Bran Crunch while pretending to rate Raisin Bran on MATES.

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Cantaloupe and honeydew are to salad what carnations are to floral arrangements.

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And what Tootsie Rolls are to a kid's trick-or-treat bag/pillowcase.

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I gotta disagree on cantelope.

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