I wanna ramrod with you honey, ’til half-past dawn.

Janet Jackson touched off a national firestorm over a fleeting glimpse of a nipple. Springsteen crams his junk into the camera and no one says peep. Where’s the outrage, man?

[ image: Texas Gal's twitter feed ]

No more talk about Ben’s back or Hines’ MCL. No more talk about Whisenhunt trying to beat his old team. No more talk about Larry Fitzgerald Sr.’s objectivity. No more talk about Brenda Warner’s extreme makeover. It’s time for the motherflippin’ Super Bowl.

Let’s hope NBC’s production value is better than their glitchfest interview with President Obama. America could hear Costas yelping “Did we lose him?” back on the set in Tampa.

The last meaningful football game for seven months. Soak it in, people. Drink until Tiki Barber is interesting.

[ image: Cake Wrecks ]