Shorts: Pigskin Potpourri

The Super Bowl is nothing if not a mirror reflecting the shallow decadence of the American soul, a crumpled can of Monster Energy tossed to the shoulder of our lonely highway of shattered national pride. For a few sacred hours each year we set aside our political differences in shared love for puppies, shared hatred for Tom Brady, and an unceasing appetite for wings, be they chicken or other. But we’re really only here to talk about cereal, pirates, the Beastie Boys, and Nic Cage. Pour one of for your homies, smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, and join us on the Mothership.