Watching Super Bowl 50 was like watching two elks, antlers locked in battle, for two hours on National Geographic — it was sleep-inducing. I was hoping for halftime before the first quarter was done.
One of the few high points — besides the minute the game ended — was Lady Gaga singing the National Anthem. I don’t even like her, and I loved it. She was fantastic.
Now back to the disappointment. Coldplay gave us an oldie, Beyoncé shook her expansive posterior as per usual, and what the heck did Bruno Mars do to his hair? I thought he was Michael Jackson returned from the dead.
Okay, enough of the game and halftime. The ads, which are why I watch (besides the food), kept me longing.
Gone was the tear-jerking Budweiser Clydesdales. GoDad
But I ask you: How many drugs do we really need to combat those dreaded bowl issues? Constipation caused by opioid pain medication and diarrhea because of Irritable Bowel Syndrome — either we are not going enough or going too much. Here’s a thought: Give up the opioids and you won’t have irritable bowels.
Now the ads that tickled my fancy.
Doritos. Giving birth. Clever. Nachos rule!
Doritos. Dogs in the supermarket. More clever. You can’t pull the leash over those dogs.
Wiener dogs dressed up as hot dogs. How can you not love that?
Christopher Walken and his sock puppets. Where is Shari Lewis?
Monkey babies. Need I say more?
Horse whisperer. The most confusing. Whaaat?
Antioxidant infusions. I don’t even know what an antioxidant infusion is let alone why I need it. Maybe it will help with constipation and diarrhea.
Not for Nuthin,™ but the rest of the public service ads (thank you, Helen Mirren — it needed to be said) cleverly hidden in cheeky, expensive spots left me constipated. Maybe they should add the roman numerals back, this way when you get bored, you can kill time figuring out what all those Ls, Xs, Cs and Ms mean.
Oh well, there is always Superbowl LI.
Follow me on Twitter @JDelBuono.
