Meg is feeling a little alone in the blogosphere; her love of the Patriots is shared by no one. She cannot understand how someone cannot fall under the spell of this one:
For the love of God, Meg’s friend Frankie used to deliver UPS packages to Tom at his sisters at Marina Bay in Quincy. He gave them two thumbs up for being nice and down to earth. Meg suspects legions of people really hate the Patriots because of this guy:
Yeah, I know he’s wearing Jennifer Beals Flashdance outfit, and it’s wrong on every level. He never smiles, comes off like an ass, and always has this trampy girlfriend on his arm. I get that, but Tom should trump Bill. It’s that the only trump you really ever want to think about.
Enough about the game though. What’s most important on a Superbowl Sunday? That’s right snacks, cocktails, and commercials.
Honda, what the hell have you done with my “let’s blow off work today” icon Matthew Broderick?
I cannot get over the fact he drives the SAME EXACT CAR as I do. Am I lame like him or is he cool like me?
Jerry Seinfeld tries to bribe a guy and get first in line for an Acura:
Somehow, I’m sort of glad he made Jerry work that hard. He could use a workout after sitting on his Seinfeld laurels for so long. (and can anyone tell me why the husbands of America still think Kramer and George are funny?)
Guess what, Tommy Lee and Motley Crue are starring in a car commercial, too!
The commercial was meh, but here’s the amazing part. Tommy Lee has a Twitter account and can type! That is bigger news than any Super Bowl commercial I can think of.
So Meg is going to end with the toughest bunch of broads that ever hit the internet, the Real Housewives of South Boston*:
(* disclaimer. The RHOSB are a bunch of actors in L.A. However, they are scarily like some real people in real life.)
Whatever you do this weekend, enjoy the game, the commercials, your snacks, and may the cutest quarterback win. In the meantime, Meg is headed to Jackie’s Packie on Route 34.