My sources tell me there’s some class of sporting event going on today. “The Stupor Bowel,” or something like that.
There are no bicycles involved in the Stupor Bowel, which seems designed to paralyze the digestive tract with a one-two punch of grease and salt while clouding the mind with watery industrial lager and subliminal electronic commands to buy things you don’t need and can’t afford.
Some home viewers are said to prefer watching the ads that ostensibly support the “game,” a ritualized re-enactment of World War I trench warfare in which the gas attacks afflict the spectators rather than the combatants.
Here at Chez Dog the TV will remain in its usual mode — we call it “off” — and if the temperature ever rises above freezing I will patrol the neighborhood via bicycle. With all eyes glued to the tube this would be a perfect day for the Chinese to invade. Nobody would even notice until they woke up chained to a table full of iPhone parts, with a biscuit, a cup of tea and an assembly manual written in Mandarin.
Herself, meanwhile, will pull the traditional Sunday shift as a volunteer at the Humane Society of the Pikes Peak Region, where everyone will no doubt have one eye on Animal Planet during Puppy Bowl VIII. There will be pigs on the sidelines, none of them named Newt (I hope).
Afterward we will enjoy a light repast of chicken enchiladas smothered in red chile, posole and pintos with chipotle, supported by a couple of fine craft beers recommended by tech editor Matt Wiebe of Bicycle Retailer and Industry News: Happy Camper IPA and Imperial Java Stout, both from the Santa Fe Brewing Co.
At no point will a cat be used as a football. Not even during halftime.
Mad Blog Media 
I’ve always known that a drop-kick is a legal play, but I have never seen one.
Not even in the Stupor Bowl.
3:00 pm,a great day to go for a bike ride.
Stupor Bowl Sunday was always a great day for a long bike ride in Hawaii, since no one was on the road (recall the time difference). I would be sure to make it home before the end of the game, when all the drunks and non-drunks alike hit what few roads we had, making them a little nerve wracking. But for about four or five hours, I would have the entire island to myself. Like Patrick, I was often surprised the enemy du jour never took advantage of our preoccupation. The Russians never launched a pre-emptive strike on Stupor Bowl Sunday. Everyone would have assumed it was part of the halftime show, including those guys buried in the mountain near O’G’s house.
Its still a bit messy here from the storm of a couple days ago, making bicycling a little sucky. I’ll head up to the cross country area at 9,000 feet to see what is left of things up there after the fire. To be honest, I have been avoiding the place like the plague, not wanting to see what happened to my lovely mountain. But I guess I can’t put that off any more. Its Stupor Bowl Sunday, and time to get outa here and off my ass, before I take it out on the two cats.
Hoo lawd. It never got over 30, but I kitted up and went out for 90 minutes anyway. Long-sleeve polypro, long-sleeve jersey, heavy jacket, bib shorts, heavy tights, wool socks, booties, tuque and heavy gloves … and I still froze my ass off.
Plus it seems some parts of town got more snow than others, so I had to relearn a few skills, like how to ride through snowdrifts (make your own line rather than taking someone else’s) and how to ride wet ice (don’t).
But at least I got out, and wrapped up my first 100-mile week of 2012.
Happy Stupor Bowel Sunday to all! We spent the day in Agrigento hoping the rain would stop long enough for the almond blossom festival to get going – but alas…we had to settle for looking at the amazing Greek temples through the rain and enjoying a long lunch before piling back into our rented Fiat 500 and heading home. Rumor has it the US “sports” spectacle will be shown on TV here in Italy tonight, but there’s NO way I’ll be staying up all night watching what almost always is written up the next day as a boring game anyway. I’ll be more interested in learning the fate of Il Pistolero tomorrow when CAS FINALLY announces their decision on the famous “it must have been the steak I don’t have any samples of and of course all my pals who shared it with me were never tested so you’ll just have to take my word for it.” doping case. BigTex beat the federal rap, will Clenbutador beat WADA and the UCI?
Any bets on whether Clenbutador walks? Rumor Control is squawking about all manner of possibilities, from a light suspension (six months to a year) to nothing atall atall.
I wish I could claim some inside wisdom on this one, but I’m in the dark. If I have to guess, I guess that he gets off, based on the old rule of thumb that the longer the jury stays out, the greater the likelihood of acquittal.
But I wouldn’t be surprised to see the Powers That Be try to push through some sort of retread of the clenbuterol regs … say, instead of any amount constituting a positive, setting a minimum level above which doping is suspected, etc., et al., and so on and so forth, which means El Pistolero will have to stay off the Spanish steaks.
…after all this time, especially in light of all the previous cycling related doping travesties, anything short of putting him up against a wall & shooting him “firing squad” style, just ain’t gonna satisfy me…
…but i guess i’m quirky that way…
We went to the beach with the dog. A great day to dig holes and chase sticks. Oh to be a pup again.
…there we go, kids…
…the bitch got slapped…contador sanctioned 2 years – loses tour n’ giro titles…
…news at 11…
…he tried to cheat – but he couldn’t beat his meat (ummm, as a defense, i mean)…
…spanish farmers vindicated…
Fuckin’ A. So Andy Schleck gets the 2010 yellow jersey. Shitty way to get a yellow jersey if you ask me, but then again, no one asks me…
So what remains to be seen is whether TCWSNBN remains the only guy without shit all over him.
“Must be a king … ‘asn’t got shite all over ‘im.”
exactly…and the rest of the pro peloton looks like everyone else in that scene. Hard to believe the king is really clean.
In the food department, I roasted a sheet pan of cauliflower and pie plate of brussel sprouts during the Big Game. Didn’t watch it but caught the Puppy Bowl for awhile. The last time I tuned it to that it had the production quality of The Yule Log. This year it had a kitty halftime show, pigs, as mentioned above by Patrick and briefly a human Zebra and a human Blonde Sideline Reporter. Better toys but fewer players -didn’t see a lab, poodle, pom, chihuahua or beagle. Cutback on the amount of talent to cover production costs. No Madonna, either. But we got to see the sponsor’s (Bissell) product clean up the dog hair
The Puppy Bowl served up some serious cuteitude, no? I tuned in for the kitty halftime show. Reminded me of when the Mighty Turk’ was a mere acorn. What a blue-eyed fireball he was. A guy could play with him without a subsequent trip to the emergency room.