February 28, 2006
Let's Get Tanked
I like molecules.
Some of my favorite stuff contains molecules; stuff like pudding and machetes. Plus, there are so many molecules to choose from! Oxygen is nice for breathing, Potassium Nitrate helps bullets kill people better and Sodium Laureth Sulfate makes my shampoo all LATHERY.
But if I had to choose just one molecule, it would be this one:
Used in perfumes, disinfectants, and solvents, Ethanol is a very popular molecule... and it's about to become even popularer! The General Motors Corporation (or "GM" as it's known in the hood) recently launched a bold new ethenol-based initiative: "Live Green, Go Yellow". "Green", in this case, refers to fresh air, clean water and that girl at the health food store who wears so much patchouli that it very nearly masks the fact she hasn't bathed since the mid-90s. The "Yellow" refers to corn, which can be processed into "E85" ethanol and used as a renewable fuel source in any vehicle equipped with GM's new Flexfuel engine. The whole idea is to ween America off of foreign oil... and I guess that's not such a bad thing. Hell, even President George W. Bush has admitted that America is addicted to oil. And he ought to know; our president knows oil addiction the same way a drug dealer can spot a crack whore at fifty paces.
Personally, I don't care about "living green" or "going yellow". What I care about is getting FUCKED UP as quickly and inexpensively as possible. You see, ethanol is the "active ingredient" in all of my favorite adult beverages! Olde English, MD 20/20, Nyquil - they all contain this wonderful molecule. Before E85 ethanol was available as a vehicular fuel option, I had to actually walk inside a gas station's minimart if I wanted to purchase alcohol products for personal refreshment. Now, I can get my liq-fix right at the pump! Squirt a few gallons into my car, spray a few shots into my liver. Repeat as necessary! Never has hard liquor been this convenient... or this affordable. Three dollars a gallon might be expensive for gasoline, but it's a bargain if you compare it to even the cheapest offerings at your local liquor store.
Only one problem. The "85" in E85 stands for 85% - the actual ethanol content of the fuel. The other 15% percent is good old fashioned petroleum... which is supposedly toxic to human beings. You just KNEW the liquor companies would find SOME way to fuck this up for us. But I figure that if you run this E85 shit through a Brita water filter a few times, it will be OK to drink. Probably.
Of course, the oil companies won't much care for this E85 business. Any money we spend on Ethanol is money we're NOT spending on their overpriced fossil juice. Count on them to start saturating the media with anti-ethanol propaganda.
February 24, 2006
From time to time, I check the "webstats" for this site. I'm always curious to see how many people are visiting the site, what pages they are viewing and what links they followed to get here. All this month, I have been rather surprised to see that my top three referrers - the sites that have sent the most traffic my way - included the following:
These links are "NSFW". Obviously.
Honestly, I have no idea why these pages have posted links to my site. Lest there be any confusion, let me be perfectly clear:
There are NO gay orgy videos on joeyheadset.com.
There is NO hairy lesbian movie sex on joeyheadset.com.
Whatever "asian cum shemale shot" is - you will NOT find it on joeyheadset.com.
Not yet, anyway. Come back in March.
iTunes' Billionth Song
Congratulations to one Alex Ostrovsky from West Bloomfield, Michigan!
Alex is the music lover who purchased the billionth song ever from the iTunes Music Store. Apple was running a special promotion centered around selling their first billion songs, so Alex now gets to claim a kick ass prize package including iPods and iMacs and other iCrap. He's a lucky guy.
Actually, he's even luckier than you might think. Because the winning song happened to be "Speed of Sound" by the band Coldplay, Alex is going to receive a SPECIAL BONUS PRIZE: The life-shattering humiliation that comes from letting the entire world know that you actually listen to Coldplay.
THAT'S RIGHT ALEX, YOU BETTER KEEP ON SHOPPING FOR MUSIC ONLINE, BECAUSE IF YOU EVER STEP INTO A RECORD STORE THE GUY BEHIND THE COUNTER IS TOTALLY GOING TO LAUGH AT YOU.
(You know, because Coldplay sucks and stuff.)
February 23, 2006
Is nothing sacred?
Let me take you back to the summer of 1991. A young Joey Headset was grinding his way through high school. I was socially inept, angry at the world, riddled with teenage angst (before teenage angst was cool). Bored and lonely, I fell into patterns of reckless and self-destructive behavior; I almost joined the Drama Club. Fortunately, it never came to that. I found my salvation in the form of a three and a half minute pop song.
Late one Sunday night, watching MTV's alternative video show 120 Minutes, I saw it for the first time: EMF's seminal anthem, "Unbelievable". The lyrics, the music - they spoke to my very soul. When EMF vocalist James Atkin sang:
"The things, you say
Your purple prose just gives you away
The things, you say
...I looked deep inside myself, and I realized: I truly AM unbelievable. My purple prose really DOES just give me away. Seeing that video was the watershed moment of my adolescence. The next day, I went out and bought EMF's album, "Schubert Dip"... I listened to it every day before I went to school, and then again as soon as I got off the bus. Sometimes I put my CD player on repeat so I could listen to "Unbelievable" as I fell asleep and then it would be the first thing I heard when I woke up. That song was what got me through high school. That song, and binge drinking.
So you can imagine the sense of betrayal and disillusionment I felt when I saw this advertisement during NBC's olympic coverage:
Nice one, Kraft. Way to take the single most important cultural landmark of the 1990's and turn it into a god-damned cheese jingle. "That Big Cheese Taste That Blows You Away" - everytime I hear that line, a tiny piece of me dies. But, hey, at least this cornerstone of my youth has been sold out for a good product: a bag of crumbled cheese. Because Americans have grown so fat and lazy THEY CAN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO CRUMBLE THEIR OWN CHEESE ANYMORE. "Gee, I love cheese, but why does it have to come in these unwieldy bricks? Why can't someone take the cheese I love, but pre-crumble it so that I can POUR CHEESE DIRECTLY FROM THE BAG INTO MY STUPID FACE!"
You know what, Kraft Corporation: FUCK YOU. Fuck your ad campaign, fuck your cheese products, and fuck all your subsidiary brands: Jell-O, Gevalia, Golden Crisp, Grape-Nuts, Great Grains, Vegemite, Velveeta. Oh, and BTW... fuck Kraft's majority owner, the Altria Group (previously known as Philip Morris Tobacco). I guess if those bastards can't kill us with their cigarettes, they'll just pump cheese down our throats until we're bleeding Velveeta out our eyes.
Crumbelievable my ass.
February 21, 2006
Fun (Olympic!) Facts: Luge
What's it called when little kids sleigh down a snowy mountain? It's called delightful childhood fun! What's it called when a grown man/woman squeezes their ass into a skintight bodysuit and sleighs down a treacherous ice-tunnel? It's called LUGE and it's more fun than slipping and falling in a icy parking lot. Allegedly.
Luge, commonly known as "The Sport of People Too Cheap to buy a Bobsled", requires quick reflexes, total body strength, and nerves of steel. HAHAHAHAHA... I'm kidding; no it doesn't. Remember, these guys are sliding supine down an ice tube on (what amounts to) a glorified cafeteria tray. You can't STEER a cafeteria tray - and anyone who tells you different is probably trying to sell you a really expensive cafeteria tray. Despite broadcasters' claims to the contrary, there is no actual skill involved in the "sport" of luge. Once a competitor hops on the sled, gravity does the rest.
So why do some luge racers succeed while others fail? It all comes down to aerodynamics. World class lugers must possess a body shape that minimizes aerodynamic drag - particularly in the CROTCHULAR region. Because they race feet-first, with legs shoulder length apart, all of the airflow collects between the racer's legs. In fact, extensive wind-tunnel testing has proven that a luger's crotch serves as a nexus of wind resistance (or, in layman's terms, a "drag-sack"). Male racers with a bulging or protruding crotch area will be at a disadvantage on the track (though perhaps they will gain an advantage during certain post-luge social activities).
Now you know. And knowing is half the battle.
New Products for You to Try!
If you don't buy lots of stuff, it's like the neo-communists have already won! If you've got a few extra dollars burning a hole in your fannypack, try these exciting new products:
Hylexin: A medicine that combats dark circles beneath your eyes; "serious dark circles". Not to be confused with comical or decorative dark circles, such as those worn by the members of Kiss. Hylexin is classified as a "cosmeceutical".
Activia: It's yogurt with friendly bacteria that are sensitive to the special digestive needs of women. These bacteria are attentive and want to talk about your feelings and will rub your bloated feet, expecting nothing sexual in return. Activa is classified as a "yogurceutical".
Cracktiva: You smoke this product and get very, very high. Cracktiva is classified as a Class A Controlled Substance.
February 20, 2006
Fun (Olympic!) Facts: Curling
When I turn on MSNBC, I expect to see people in suits yelling at each other. It's called "news" and it's very popular amongst those who actually care what happens to people like you. However, if these news-lovers had tuned into MSNBC this week, they would have seen something totally different: people in uniforms yelling at a rock.
What is this crazy spectacle? It's called "curling", and its the most fun you can have on ice! Well, it's the most fun you can have on ice with brooms and, you know... rocks and shit.
Curling, invented in the 10th century, is commonly referred to as "The Sport of Kings". Specifically, ancient Arctic kings, such as Garbak the Frigid, who forced his slaves to play the sport totally nude (historians agree that Garbak was a total asshole). Though most contemporary Curling enthusiasts prefer to remain clothed, the rules haven't changed much over the centuries. The game is played by two teams of four on a 146 foot long strip of ice. The teams take turns throwing polished 44 pound stones toward a group of concentric rings located at either end of the playing surface. Novice spectators might assume that these rings serve as a target; a bulls-eye that awards points to teams that cast their stones closest to the center. Nothing could be further from the truth.
In reality, the rings serve not as a target, but as a visual aid that helps players place their stones in a mystical pattern - a pentagram, specifically. In curling, each team attempts to position their stones in the shape of a pentagram while disrupting the similar efforts of their opponents. When a team successfully forms a stone pentagram within the concentric circles, they will begin to utter an ancient chant. This, in turn, summons a demon that merrily devours the souls of the losing side.
Obviously, this explains why Canadians dominate the sport. Everyone knows that Canadians don't have souls.
Now you know. And knowing is half the battle.
February 18, 2006
Which Golden Girl are YOU?
People on the internet love to take personality tests. I think it is because most of them don't actually have a personality, so they rely upon these tests to assign them one. Anyway... for your amusement (well, mostly for MY amusement) I created a very special personality test:
In case you were wondering, here's my result:
February 16, 2006
On any given day, I alternate between a variety of distinct emotional states:
2. Outrage (the extroverted version of Rage)
3. Vexation (a classier version of Rage)
4. Anger (similar to Rage, but includes the letter "n")
Obviously, I'm a very complex guy. Actually, I'm even more complex than it seems. You see, within each of the emotional states described above, there are different levels; I like to think of them as "gears". On a good day, I may only get up to 2nd gear on the Rageometer. On a bad day, maybe all the way up to 4th.
Then there's 5th gear.
I don't shift into 5th very often - and for good reason. First of all, every time I do, I end up destroying some piece of consumer electronics. Fax machines, plasma TVs, etc. This can get very expensive. Secondly, spending time in 5th gear - a state of "Maximum Rage" - is incredibly exhausting. I just don't have the energy to sustain that level of pissed-offedness for an extended stretch of time. The third reason why I avoid my 5th gear of Rage is the most important one... but it demands an explanation.
Yesterday, a series of new Abu-Ghraib images surfaced, revealing unspeakable acts of prisoner abuse: cigarette burns, forced sexual acts, brutalized corpses - really sick shit. If ever the Muslim world had a justification for going batshit crazy, this would certainly be it. Yet... it hasn't really happened. Why? Because, at the time these images were released, the Muslim world was already in a state of Maximum Rage. And what were they so mad about?
An insulting political cartoon printed by a newspaper in Denmark.
THIS, my friends, is the real reason I don't always drive my Ragemobile in 5th gear; it's because I'm trying to avoid THIS VERY SITUATION. Don't get me wrong: I admire the ability of Muslims across the globe to sustain peak levels of anger for months at a time. I admire their ability to generate searing fury based on an insult so slight, most religions would have scarcely noticed it at all. Their commitment to indiscriminate, pointless and self-destructive Rage is an ideal I can only hope to live up to. But, it is clear to me that the Muslim world needs to keep something left in the tank for those situations in which Rage is ACTUALLY JUSTIFIED. Otherwise, they risk the worst kind of cultural impotence - the inability to demonstrate righteous anger when it really counts.
Also, you come off looking like a complete fucking idiot.
February 14, 2006
Happy fucking Valentines Day
It's Valentine's Day, and I've got nothing to show for it. No cards, no chocolates, not even one of those anonymous "I've got an S.T.D, you should get checked" emails. Attention Saint Valentinus: FUCK YOU.
At least I can always count on my old friends in the SPAM community to give me some love on this, the most romantic of days. Here is a collection of the most ROMANTIC Valentine's Day Spam I've received today.
Subject: Fucking St. Valentine
What are you to do if you have bad erection? Especially
in the forthcoming Saint Valentines Day???
Don t worry, it is not the last of pea-time...
The most simple way is to visit our site, order the
medication and that is all you are to do!
Do not kill the clock!
Subject: If you have always dreamed of being called a sex machine
Are you tired of your friend bragging about having wonderful sex every night?
You can get the same with our Viagra Soft Tabs.
Are you ready for the new, extremely pleasant and irresistible adventures in bed?
Do you want to lose your head and wake up drowning in the ocean of your own sperm?
Then Soft Viagra tabs are just for you.
Make her scream like never before.
Subject: Feel the fire with Viagra Pro.
You want erection of your dick - Viagra Pro will make it quick.
You dream of rivers of sperm, of penis enormous and firm,
just listen to your inner voice Viagra Pro should be your choice.
Subject: Cuming like a giant is trendy; Spermamax can help you with it.
Spermamax is premium combination of herbs,
vitamins and minerals that can improve not
only your sperm but also your life.
To achieve something in your life, you need to have a child. If you have any problems with reproduction, Spermamax can help you.
Spermamax will make your sperm restless.
Subject: Do you want to see the fountain of sperm?
My name is Erectile Dysfunction.
I have a lot of friends such us: bad sex, awful mood, dissatisfied wife, short erections and spoiled condoms.
But I do have one enemy - its name is Soft Cialis Tabs.
When they appear, I disappear.
Cialis Soft Tabs. Masculinity and man power.
Subject: For your wife's last b-day you gave her a vibrator because of your hopeless Erectile Dysfunction.
Your neighbors lost their alarm-clock?
Don't worry, the sounds of your satisfaction from having sex with our new Soft Cialis Tabs
will make them wake up every morning or even have sleepless nights if you enlarge your dose.
Aw... thanks SPAMMERS. You always know how to brighten my day!
Posted by Joey at 05:33 PM
Stop with the Cheney Jokes
Leave it to the Blog-O-Sphere to kick a man while he's down.
HA HA HA, Dick Cheney shot some old guy in the face. What a big freaking joke. What an opportunity for bloggers to tee-off on an easy target. It's amateur comedy night on the internet and everyone's stepping up to the mic to take a few cheap shots at the Vice President.
It's really easy to poke fun at someone after he shoots a 78 year old man, but let me tell you something: that shit can happen to ANYONE. As a hunting enthusiast, I have shot over two dozen people in the face... and in at least half of those cases, it was a complete accident. Like most Americans my age, I grew up playing video games: Marathon, DOOM, Quake. If those games taught me nothing else, they taught me that you should shoot - quite literally - everything that moves, all the time. Sometimes you should even shoot things that don't move, like explosive barrels and ancient urns (which frequently contain extra ammunition). Those who refuse to pull the trigger until they can "identify the thing they are shooting at" are total n00bs who get PWNED. Dick Cheney may be many things, but he's no n00b.
Furthermore, the incident wasn't even Cheney's fault. Mr. H. Whittington, the man whose face absorbed all that Vice Presidential buckshot, violated a basic tenet of hunting protocol: don't ever come up on a brother from behind when he's getting his shoot on. An experienced hunter such as Cheney always looks in the direction he is pointing his gun. For this reason, the safest place to be when a hunter raises his weapon, is directly in front of him - because that's where the hunter is already looking. The most dangerous place you can stand is behind the hunter: the one place he's NOT pointing the gun. That's where people get shot.
The way I see it, the Vice President was simply exercising his 2nd Amendment rights. Specifically, the right to shoot someone accidentally. Think about it: those bastards in congress have already made it illegal for us to shoot someone on purpose. If we let them outlaw accidental shootings, then you might as well just throw the 2nd amendment out the window. What's the point of having the Right to Bear Arms IF YOU'RE NEVER ALLOWED TO SHOOT ANYBODY?
By shooting a 78 year old man in the face, Dick Cheney wasn't simply standing up for his rights... he was standing up for the rights of every American. And I, for one, respect him for it.
Down for a Jack Move
Finally installed a new banner for the site. Because the old one was, you know, CRAP.
And yes, in case anyone was in doubt: I am most certainly down for a jack move.
February 11, 2006
Joey's Blue Period
... is OVER. I finally replaced that horrific baby blue background with a custom-made background image. Good ol' Photoshop filter effects: "Making Actual Artistic Talent Unnecessary Since 1993". This will be the first in a series of cosmetic changes I'll be making in the days to come. But don't worry: even though the look of the site will be drastically improved, the quality of the content will remain embarrassingly low.
Just the way you like it.
February 10, 2006
Recently, I've seen TV ads for a movie called Running Scared. At first I was thrilled: I thought it was a remake of the excellent 1986 Billy Crystal/Gregory Hines film of the same name. After all, 2006 does mark the 20th anniversary of Running Scared - the finest cop/buddy movie of all time (screw you Lethal Weapon - you destroyed your legacy with all those shitty sequels).
So badly I wanted to revisit Ray Hughes and Danny Costanzo, those two crazy streetwise Chicago cops who tend bar by day and fight drug dealers (played by Jimmy Smits) by night! Sadly:
THE 2006 MOVIE RUNNING SCARED IS NOT A REMAKE OF THE AWESOME 1986 CLASSIC!
And it's a damn shame, too. I was even hoping Michael McDonald's original Running Scared theme song, "Sweet Freedom", might get a cover treatment by John Mayer (or some other jackass who is likely to grow a bushy white beard 20 years from now, crapping all over Motown's entire back catalog).
February 09, 2006
I don't talk politics on this web site. I figure that if you really want to see some asshole spouting political opinions on the internet, you'd probably prefer to read the opinions of someone who actually follows politics. Or at least pretends to. That's not for me; which is why I've chosen to stick to doing what I do best: making cheap jokes at the expense of famous people I've never met.
Nevertheless, there is something going on in the world I feel I must address. You've probably heard about a series of political cartoons that have totally enraged Muslims around the world - and it takes a lot to piss off those guys. The cartoons, published in a Danish newspaper, presented a visual depiction of the prophet Mohammed. Muslims consider such depictions to be blasphemous. As a result, there have been violent protests, calls for the assassination of the cartoonists and boycotts of certain delicious breakfast pastries... specifically, bagels. Not because they hate Jews, but because the trauma of seeing their messiah insulted caused them all to suddenly become allergic to wheat gluten.
While most Americans consider all this to be a massive overreaction by the Muslim world, I totally see where they are coming from. As I've mentioned before, I am a devout worshiper of Bast, the ancient Egyptian cat-God. SHUT UP YOUR RELIGION IS STUPID TOO. Anyway... inspired by my outraged Islamic friends, I hereby call for the death of cartoonist Jim Davis, creator of Garfield.
Longtime readers know this is the second time I have called for the death of Jim Davis. The first time I was very drunk, and I don't remember what I was getting at exactly. This time, however, I am only slightly drunk... and dead serious about killing that guy. Think about it, Muslims called for the death of a cartoonist for ridiculing their spiritual leader just once - and they were right to do so. Meanwhile - in his hateful, sacrilegious Garfield cartoon - Jim Davis has ridiculed my feline deity in THOUSANDS UPON THOUSANDS OF LAME COMIC STRIPS!!! He deserves to die, along with Ikuko Shimizu - the man who created Hello Kitty.
February 07, 2006
Stipe vs. Malkovich
When did this happen?
When did Michael Stipe and John Malkovich turn into the exact same person???
This does not bode well.
February 06, 2006
Brown and WHAT?
When you wake up Monday morning - facing another week at your boring, degrading job - consider this:
Somebody, somewhere got paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to come up with the new slogan for Diet Pepsi:
Doesn't really make you thirsty does it? If you think about it, there are very few pleasant things that could be described as both Brown and Bubbly. Beef stew, toxic waste, a sea of boiling excrement... other than that, nothing comes to mind.
I don't mind Brown, it's the Bubbly that isn't doing it for me. What if they changed the slogan to "Brown and Viscous"? Now that's a slogan worthy of a cola that I might consider drinking if the vending machine was out of Coke.
February 04, 2006
Celebrities Need Love Too
Samantha Fox, the acclaimed 1980's pop singer, once insisted that "Naughty Girls Need Love Too." In my experience, Samantha was absolutely right... if by "love" she meant "access to my credit card and an endless supply of crystal meth". Celebrities, on the other hand - they need real love. Just like us regular folk, they crave companionship and affection, someone to yell at when they get snubbed at the oscars and someone to clean the blood off their Porsche after they "accidentally" run over a hobo.
However, celebs do have one advantage over us regular folk. While we have to go to bars and throw back adult beverages until we see someone who looks marginally appealing, celebrities can find love through a more traditional path: reality television.
Celeb-reality shows are HOT right now. Between the celebrity dancing, celebrity ice skating, celebrity weight loss and celebrity colonoscopies... it's hard to turn on the TV without seeing some washed-up has-been flexing his lower intestine for all the world to see. But the newest permutation of this genre is perhaps the most intriguing: celebrity dating shows. If you haven't seen one already, you are really missing out! Gen X icon Lisa Loeb is looking for a nice jewish boy on the E! network, while Flavor Flav trolls for crazy skank bitches on VH1. Even Paula Abdul is getting in on the fun... with a little help from Dr. Phil.
Though all these shows are reasonably entertaining (especially if you're retarded), I can't help but think that the wrong celebrities were selected for these programs. Lisa Loeb doesn't really need help finding a man... she wears cute glasses and allegedly looks good in a thong. Flavor Flav obviously could have his choice of crazy skank bitches... and Paula Abdul can bang any sweet young American Idol contestant she chooses. Assuming Simon doesn't get to him first.
Meanwhile, the celebrities that really need help finding love have been left to fend for themselves. If I were producing celeb-reality shows for VH1 or E! (and if I was able to resist the urge to disembowel myself with a rusty can opener) here are a few celebrity dating shows I would develop:
Winning Courtney's Love
Rock singer/Single mom (widowed), looking for a man with whom to share her life. And her needles. Every episode begins with Courtney enjoying a romantic dinner with a potential soul-mate. Every episode ends back in rehab.
Juiced for Love!
OJ Simpson searches the golf courses and nightclubs of America for romance... and for "the real killer". A rotating cast of model/actressess try to win OJ's affection - but it's no easy task. Those who fail to make a connection with the Juiceman are kicked off the show... and stabbed to death. Those who succeed get to spend a romantic weekend with OJ at a 5 star resort. Where they are stabbed to death.
I Love Colin Farrell's Penis (and Friends)
Do you enjoy sexual intercourse? Colin Farrell and his omnipresent genitalia will change all that. Not a dating show so much as a weekly series of celebrity sex videos, I Love Colin Farrell's Penis really puts the "Ugh" back in "Ooh La La"!
February 03, 2006
RANT: Super Bowl Commercials
A lot of people ask me, "Hey Joey, are you going to watch the SUPER BOWL?!?!"
I say, "No. I don't care about football." In truth, I do follow the NFL and have every intention of watching the Super Bowl. I only tell people I won't so they will STOP TALKING TO ME. However, when I tell them I don't like football, they will often say "Well, I don't really like football either, but I'm going to watch it for the commercials!!!"
I've been watching television for quite awhile now... let me explain something about how it works. TV consists of two elements: the show and the commercials. The show is the thing you watch. The commercials are the things that interrupt the show, giving you brief opportunities to get snacks, urinate, and - if you're lucky - make sweet love to your special lady friend. YOU DO NOT WATCH TV FOR THE COMMERCIALS. THAT IS STUPID AND WRONG.
Sure, Super Bowl commercials were fun to watch back in the day, back when most of the commercials were for dot-com companies that everyone knew weren't going to be around in 6 months. Watching those commercials, you could almost FEEL the bubble bursting! They should have had a stock ticker crawl on the bottom of the screen, so you could see the entirety of NASDAQ going down the toilet (while yet another $500,000 Super Bowl spot failed to establish even the most basic sense of what good or service the company intended to sell). Remember netpliance.com? OurBeginning.com? How about Epidemic.com? Now, there was a great name for an internet-business... if I wanted to contract some BIRD FLU, that's the first web site I would visit. Knowing that the very commercial that was intended to promote the business was almost certain to bankrupt the business... THAT was great television.
Sadly, those days are gone. These days, the Super Bowl ads are just more of the same crap I TIVO through during the rest of the year. There's no suspense, no surprises. I really don't care what furry woodland creature the nice people at Budweiser have anthropomorphized for the purposes of selling shitty beer to 6 year olds. And besides, if it turns out that one or two of the ads are actually worth watching, it's not like I actually need to sit through the Super Bowl to see them. All the good spots will be hosted on blogs the next day. You can always count on the Blog-O-Sphere to track down short, sort-of funny video clips and then BEAT THEM INTO THE GROUND LIKE A DEAD HORSE THAT TURNED INTO A ZOMBIE-HORSE AND THEN HAD TO BE BEATEN TO DEATH ALL OVER AGAIN. Don't believe me? Do a blog search on "Lazy Sunday", you'll see what I mean.
Here's my point: Watch the Super Bowl, don't watch the Super Bowl. But don't watch it "for the commercials." Watching television just to see commercials is a sin against nature and God.
Anyway... enjoy the game!