Super Ball Sunday

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The fascination the masses have over obsessing about the way men,

and sometimes women,

play with their proverbial balls,

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culminates tomorrow for that classic America pastime,

dubbed “Super Bowl Sunday.”

However,

as the title suggests,

perhaps since it IS in fact,

the aforementioned culmination of ball-playing,

why not just call it…

… the SUPER BALL?…

Yes, Super Ball Sunday…

…a day of celebration for celebrating balls…

…yes, your very own festive holiday of balls,

the best balls day of all,

Super Ball day,

tomorrow,

on Super Ball Sunday.

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Being broad-cast,

via televised programming,

straight into the brains of millions,

and millions,

of automatonic sheeple,

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who will be drooling over said balls,

and how those balls get played with,

highlighted by some bizarrely symbolic half-time ritual show,

while they drink their beer,

and get fatter on hot wings,

screaming and yelling and feeding into a drama,

cast all in the name of balls.

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Quite the accomplishment humanity…

…Super Ball Sunday…

…cheers…

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…love to all…

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Lonesome Tonight

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I walk along the street
I look into your eyes
I’m pleasant when we meet
I’m there when you go home
How many times before
Could you tell I didn’t care?
When you turned your back on me
I knew we’d get nowhere
Do you believe in youth?
The history of all truth
A heart that’s left at home
Becomes a heart of stone
Do you believe in truth?
The lies we told of youth
A cause we call our own
Beside an empty throne
How many times before
Could you tell I didn’t care?
When you reached out in your sleep
And you knew I wasn’t there
My eyes are made of stone
Just like your sordid home
How many times before
Did you leave my soul alone?

 

…from the ashes of Ian Curtis and Joy Division,
New Order formed…
…cheers…
…love to all.