It occurs to me that since this is Super Bowl weekend, I should post my prediction. For those who may not know, some years back I made a Very Important Discovery which explains everything that happens in football and allows me to predict any given team’s success or failure relative to its opponents. It is called The Parseghian Principle, which, plainly and simply put, holds that the team with the most players from Notre Dame will prevail.

Teams without players from Notre Dame may sometimes post a win, and occasionally a result will contradict the Parseghian Principle. This is attributable to any or all of the following intrusive factors: (i) the opposing team’s Notre Dame player(s) were on injured reserve; (ii) the opposing team’s Notre Dame player(s) were not attending the game in observance of Knute Rockne’s birthday, (iii) statistical anomaly by which the exception proves the rule, (iv) eddies in the space-time continuum caused by radioactive malfunctions in the space station Mir. Or, as the renowned third-century Greek philosopher Dactylophenecles noted, “Sometimes things just happen. What the hell.”

After several years’ application of the Parseghian Principle, I’m reasonably satisfied that it holds true, though I still have not discovered a satisfactory explanation of the New Orleans Saints Anomaly. In terms of winning picks, I am a solid 63% ahead of Terry Bradshaw. Plus I have more hair.

Therefore, the New England Patriots are going to win the Super Bowl, thanks to their foresight two years ago in having acquired #87, David Givens (wide receiver). The Carolina Panthers don’t have a prayer, inasmuch as they have NO Notre Dame players! Not one! Not a single fightin’ Irishman! Oh, and Sports Interaction is giving 38 for the over/under - this chick is betting “under”.

I’m still in search of the perfect video game, one that achieves that delicate balance between ‘difficult enough to be challenging’ and ‘controller-flinging impossible’...

Why I disliked “Castlevania: Lament of Innocence”: this game is dang weird, and I don’t mean because it’s about vampires and all spooookeh. It is the oddest mix of 2D and 3D imaginable, like 2.5D or something. You can move your Belmont in all directions, so it’s kinda 3D, but it’s like he lives in a strictly 2D world...the bookshelves and sconces are just “painted” on the walls, he can’t look around from a central standpoint, there’s no first-person view and in many rooms (if you can grasp this concept without being high) the wall where your TV screen is, doesn’t exist even if you move him so as to circle the perimeter of the room.

On the positive side, this game did allow me to achieve a Crowning Glory Moment in video game stupidity when I got stuck in the freaking TUTORIAL. Yes, in the TUTORIAL. After the introduction and opening cutscenes, you steer your Belmont into the super scary spooky castle in the deep dark woods (as you can tell, “Lament of Innocence” is VASTLY different from “Symphony of the Night”) and play through a short tutorial. The tutorial tells you helpful things like “If Leon jumps, then jumps again while in the air, he can jump even higher to reach new places” - well, I immediately deduced that if you push X to jump, why, then that would mean X, X is double-jump (I’m clever that way). Then you come to a room where the tutorial shows you this picture of a wrought-iron railing on a balcony and says “Use whip to swing and traverse ledges”. Ummm...okay. Leon has 2 whip attacks, the whip-whip attack and the boomstick-whip attack. I tried every conceivable permutation and combination of these attacks whilst jumping, double-jumping, standing still, from a running start, from an angle and straight on. I am feeling very smug and pompous because I did not destroy yet another PS2 controller.

In a state of dire humiliation, I went to Gamefaqs for assistance but was spared the derisive laugher of my fellow gamers because, hard though it might be to believe, there is someone out there even lamer than me. Yes, the “how do I hook the whip and swing” question had already been asked. More than once. The secret is X, X, square but evidently “it’s kind of a pain”. Oh, WONDERFUL. After an interminably long time, I eventually moved on, although once I hooked the whip and swung my Belmont, I have no idea how the 247th time I pressed X, X, square differed from the first 246 times. But, onward! Dungeons to explore, skeletons to demolish, hearts to collect, relics to find! Have I mentioned that “Lament of Innocence” is really really different from “Symphony of the Night”???

Why I disliked "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers": played through the whole damn game and no one ever said, “All your Helms Deep are belong to us.”

Last night’s hockey game ended in a tie, thanks to Scott Mellanby and Jeff Cowan. From my perspective, that’s great because each of my favorite teams get a point. Most of the time, I watch hockey games on these special-purchase sports channels (DirectTV's "NHL Center Ice") but this one happened to be carried on Turner South, which made for a rather surreal viewing experience.

The majority of commercials on Turner South promote the other shows and series on that channel. Based on the commercials and program clips I saw, Turner South is apparently dedicated to propagating the stereotype of the Southerner as a gap-toothed trailer-dweller whose home decor relies heavily upon the judicious use of antlers and whose interests diverge from huntin’ and fishin’ only to the extent that they involve cookin’ and eatin’ thar kill. Yay.

On the positive side, it did give me the inspiration for my own television show. [Note to self: must consult Cousin Norm on how to pitch a show to a network.] It would be a reality show pitting the local boys from one county against the boys from the neighboring county in a two-part competition. The first part would be a test of endurance involving the drinking of vast quantities of Budweiser; the marketing exec in me already sees sponsorship opportunities here. The second part would segue naturally from the first, being a creativity challenge where the boys compete in artistic outdoor urination. Everyone stop for a moment and ponder that you’re reading something which contains the words “artistic outdoor urination”. At the moment, my working title is “Piss de Resistance”.

Some random musings:

If you’ve never read a Terry Pratchett book or listened to a King Crimson album, do yourself and everyone who loves you a favor: go out and buy Hogfather (book) and Discipline (album). You won’t be sorry - that is, unless you’re sorry for all the years you wasted not enjoying the greatest social satirist of our time and the most innovative and original musicians since Claude Achille Debussy.

If there is any better footwear than Doctor Marten’s patent Air-Wair 8-eyelet boots, I don’t know what it is. This statement is inspired by an admiring glance downward at my nifty Union Jack-patterned Docs with British bulldogs on the side.

"I'm very well aquainted with the seven deadly sins
I keep a busy schedule trying to fit them in
I'm proud to be a glutton, and I don't have time for sloth
I'm greedy, and I'm angry, and I don't care who I cross."
- Warren Zevon, Mr. Bad Example

Here it is - my first entry into my first blog. I guess I should explain that the title isn't meant to convey an unpleasant, unbearable place; it's supposed to be a kinda-pun on my name. Also, thanks to my friend NCH who kept urging me to do this and provided helpful instructions. She also said I was a very funny, entertaining writer...hmm, more pressure. Did I do anything funny last night? Did I do anything last night?

There are many, many reasons why someone at my level of income and financial obligations should not have a housekeeper, but they all fall instantly into oblivion when I inhale that heady smell of lemon Pledge, Clorox and the mingled potpourri of clean that can only mean: Miss Betty's been today!!! If I should have some unexpected financial difficulty, I might wind up living off soda crackers and tap water but Miss Betty would stay. It's also a lot easier to keep things in order if I know that she'll be there every 2 weeks; motivation not to allow things to fall into complete disarray.

Miss Betty told me when she started 3 years ago that she'd wash the sheets and towels, but she didn't do folks' "personals". I was cool with that, but the arrangement only lasted a month or so until she caught on to the way I did laundry, that being: I used the washer as a dirty clothes hamper and when it got full, I'd dump in some soap and turn it on. She was horrified as only a true born-and-raised Southern woman of her generation can be. I've done maybe 4 loads of laundry since. Best friend/sister Cheryl refers to my dryer (or maybe my washer, I'm not sure which) as "the white square thing where Miss Betty stacks the clean clothes". Sad, but true.

I was very smug and self-satisfied recently because I did an entire load of laundry All By Myself. Everything came out clean, unwrinkled and pretty much the same size as when it went in. I did hockey jerseys and underwear. It gives me pause to think that I own sufficient hockey jerseys that enough of them could be dirty at any one time to constitute an entire load of laundry. I'm not sayin' it's a good thing or a bad thing, it just gives me pause.

Speaking of hockey, my beloved St. Louis Blues are in town tonight playing the Thrashers, so any way the puck drops it's going to be a great hockey night for Helly.