Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Post Game Blog

I know you are all thinking I'm a lazy ol' bugger for not blogging after the SuperBowl, but I'll have you know, that last night while Mom was soaking in the tub (her only refuge from yours truly), I snuck into the computer room and wrote a long and rather hilarious blog post. How was I to know that Blogger was doing maintenance work...I clicked publish and wham! Lost it all. I felt like tearing my hair out in the agony of it - but I do not self strip, I leave that to Mom. So here I go, trying to re-concoct a fine piece of writing...

I for one am mighty relieved that the Super Bowl is over. That Battle of the Bitches, frankly, made me rather uptight. I like bitches fighting over ME, not oversized humans in shoulderpads and sleek leggings. And to be honest, I sort of slipped into a coma three minutes into the game...

I awoke with a heck of a start to see that old git Mick Jagger wiggling his osteoporotic hips on stage in the half time show. It's one thing creating a fuss over seeing Janet Jackson's right boobie on stage, I think it is far more irresponsible of the networks to allow a group of elderly, decrepit has-beens into our living rooms. I tell you I nearly had a stroke when I saw Jagger's scary looking visage. The Rolling Stones should be hidden away in some elder facility crocheting antimacassars, not prancing about on stage where they might just break a hip!

Anyway, after my initial shock, I managed to slip back into my sleep until I was awakened by a very far off shriek of joy emanating from Daisy and Coco. It was then that I knew the Steelers had won. My immediate concern was for poor Miss Amelia. I worried that the defeat of her beloved Sea Hawks might be too much for her frail heart, I couldn't bear the though of her on Zoloft for the rest of her life, battling the slings of hideous depression.

As proof of our spiritual bond, our house phone rang at the ungodly hour of 11:30 PM (someone forgot there was a time difference between coasts!). And would you know, it was Amelia's Daddy calling to allay my fears. The brave Amelia was taking the loss in her stride and had not clawed out anyones eyes (yet). The relief was tremendous! Poor Mom could hardly hear a word that Amelia's Daddy said because I had chewed the phone antenna. Eek.

Speaking of phones, on Sunday Mom and Dad came home with 2 brand new cellphones for me! They were in bright red boxes bearing the name Verizon. And they were in enticing chewy leather cases. For some reason that I cannot fathom, they keep placing them on the top of the bookshelf where clearly they realize I cannot get to them. All very confusing.



Anonymous said...

Dear Lover Boy Axel

Do you really want to know why my dad called you at that ungodly hour other than to allay your fears?

Since the Sunday Super Bowl Game, whenever dad gets within 10 feet of a television, it triggers a heightened level of anxiety for him.

It appears that Dad may be suffering from "Post-Traumatic Defeat Disorder". Dad suddenly has persistent, intrusive memories of the bad calls by those guys in the striped shirts from Sunday's Super Bowl letdown. Also, Dad may be having nightmares...dreams riddled with wild, zebra-hunting safaris or Mr. Peabody and his "Wayback Machine."

I consulted with my Unkie (uncle) who is a medical doctor to see what we could do for NFL fan Dad. Doctor Unkie say's since there will be a next season, it is most likely that dad will recover within a couple of days.

Thankfully, I can already see a turning point in dad's recovery process!

Miss Amelia

Wiry Axel said...

Oh Dear, this sounds serious.
Here is what I suggest. When your dad is taking a nap, commandeer Alexander, Beau and Pepper, and set about burying the tv's in the yard! I'm afraid it is the only cure!

PS No idea what you are talking about with regard to Mr Peabody etc...I asked Mom, she doesn't know either, she suspects it is some American stuff she knows nothing about...

Your forever,

Anonymous said...

Hey Lover Boy Axel

As for Mr. Peabody and his "Wayback Machine," I admit it was a bit out there as far as references go and I could have set it up better. I mentioned Mr. Peabody because he was blind as a bat, like the referees are accused of being. He has a "Wayback Machine" which would be helpful in going back in time to correct missed calls due to said blindness.

Sorry for the confusion.

And thanks for your brillant suggestion of burying the TV's in the Yard!

Your Sweetie Always...
Miss Amelia