I have dedicated my prayer life this week to Sunday’s football extravaganza.
Bowl. Lord, forgive the hatred in my heart, but I have very strong feelings about the New England Patriots, and I don’t even LIKE sports! They just have such a reputation for dishonest dealings which leave me deflated. And such an unfair path to the Big Bowl in the first place. I mean, sinners belong in church, but the Saints belong in the Super Bowl. Amen? Nonetheless, Brother Tom and his ball touchers swept their way into a sixth Bowl of Superiority championship. To top it all off, after the victory was proclaimed, that cheesy team owner, Roger Kraft, planted a sodomite kiss on Brother Brady’s mouth. I about lost my Doritos and Ro-Tel!
Body. Then there was the halftime “show”, the most confusing, misdirected bit of chaos I’ve seen since SHOWGIRLS. First of all, make a decision on one performer. Who were all these creatures? I’m quite familiar with little Adam Levine and his band, Burgundy 3. I’ve always though Adam was an attractive young man. But once he removed his shirt (prompting side-eye from Sister Janet Jackson), I was blind-sided by the mess of tattoos on his body. He looked like a used passport! Brothers and Sisters, I believe that the body is the Temple of the Lord. Therefore, tattoos are nothing more than graffiti on the church! Where’s my cover stick?
Burger. Finally, some people (nancy-boys, usually) only watch this game in order to critique and comment on the commercials. And what a collection it was. From liberal propaganda (Washington Post) to emotional manipulation (First Responders), there was seemingly something for everyone. Speaking personally, I’m so grateful to not have a taste for Burger King. I mean, what was THAT? A resurrected Andy Warhol eating a hamburger in complete silence? I’d rather watch paint dry. And lord help….I may have just created next year’s commercial for Sherwin Williams.