Submitted Title: “5 Things Version 2.1 Beta.” There’s a new sheriff in town: Peter Donahue. The publications board decides to get serious about the paper. My days are numbered.
1. This isn’t going to take long.
I don’t remember why this article is more than 200 words shorter than most of the other ones.
2. Does anyone else think that “Bye Bye Berte” sounds a little too celebratory?
Yes, I realized then and I realize now that it was a pun.
3. I don’t care that a breast was exposed to 90 million people. I don’t care that Nelly was grabbing himself onstage. I don’t care that Kid Rock wore an American flag like a poncho. I care that the performers didn’t even make an effort to make it look like they weren’t lip-synching. I care that my attention span is assumed to be about twenty seconds or the amount of time it took for the show to prematurely eschew one song that you might remember as being mildly popular three years ago in favor of another. I care that the people who produced this pop-culture train wreck felt like the worst parts of the last ten years of music should be thrown into a blender and dumped in Reliant Stadium. I care that this was nothing more than a publicity stunt pandering to the lowest common denominator. I care that it obviously worked since I’m still writing about it a month later.
Gift horse’s mouth: looked in. Now that was a halftime show. They network types are sooooo scared now that we get Paul McCartney, Tom Petty, and Bruce Springsteen.
4. It was recently uncovered that for the last several years Colorado University football recruits have been enticed by alcohol-fueled sex parties. This has led to investigations and the head football coach being put on, most likely, permanent leave. Upcoming sanctions and uncertainty about coaching stability will negatively affect future recruiting. However, nothing will hurt the school’s prospects of landing top players worse than a cutback in the greatest of all recruiting tools, the alcohol-fueled sex party.
Good one, man. Believe it or not, Auburn didn’t throw me a single alcohol-fueled sex party to get me to come to grad school.
5. I wish someone would tell me whether or not I’m pro-choice.
…because I can’t choose for myself. I’m a tool.
Raising a good question about halftime shows: which is better, artists who were innovative a generation or two ago but now have become staid and cliched, or recent crap?
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