Well fans, the nightmare has become real, and the Super Bowl was truly decided by the officials this year. The best we can hope for is that the refs, heads swollen by their undisputed new central role in the game, will hold out for a big new contract and we'll be rid of the whole pack of them.
And what a delight to see such a tasteful, measured performance from the Rolling Stones, proof that men, at least, can be too skinny. The bone structure of the Celtic face simply requires a bit more flesh than the lads are carrying these days. I could just picture my brother, the plastic surgeon, drooling in front of his TV set. These guys could certainly afford the Super Deluxe Jumbo Package! Who would ever have thought that the pinnacle of rock n' roll life achievement would be an appearance at the Super Bowl half-time show? Expect to see Bob Dylan some year soon, as he seems to be staying in at least as good shape as the Bones.
Well, now comes the part where the wicked witch steals my wand and imprisons me in a cavern underneath Sugar Loaf Mountain. Never fear, I am always let out during the NFL Draft Festival in May to make various sage observations and pronouncements.