Monday between Supers

Some observations on a day between Supers. On the one hand you've got the Superbowl, the perfect season, the Holloway-case, on the other you've got the U.S. presidential elections, the potentially first black president, the potentially first female president...

• Alicia Keys got ASS, man. Get up from behind the piano more, girl!
• My sports betting record is now 9-3. And why is that? Because Eli Manning refused to go down even though half the New England linebackers corps was hanging around his neck, to complete a long pass to Dave Tyree.
• I already spoke of people having to take responsibility instead of looking for excuses. Joran van der Sloot took it to a whole different level, and basically invented a whole cluster of excuses. And for what? Because he didn't want to get involved with the police? I forget, who were these people arresting him, questioning him? How is this easier than calling an ambulance?
  
• "A good friend will help you move. A very good friend will help you move a dead body."
• Ever since the Janet-Justin incident (Nipplegate), half-time shows are basically borefest extravaganza. No risque artistes. No inteligent and politically aware singers (I still bloody hate U2, so I don't count them). And they are longer. 45 Minutes?! Are you kidding me?
• Uncharacteristically Brady overthrew, underthrew, made haste when he seriously didn't need to. Was he really pressured by the Giants defense? Or was he getting nervous from Gisele in the stands? One thing's for sure: this season will also be remembered for the Curse of the Hot Famous Girlfriend.
• I'm much too old to speak or understand urban Dutch lingo.