Sunday, November 22, 2009
Faith Hill is in league with Satan (there's no other explanation)
If there's anything that could fire me up enough to brush the dust off my blog and return to a more prolific state of active bitchery, it's Faith Hill killing my figurative boner for Sunday Night Football. Every week I've been watching this bitch and her tranny equine countenance trying to do her best "sexy Hank Williams" routine to segue between "Football Night in America" and the actual game. And every week I've been getting progressively more pissed off.
Faith Hill's "Drag Queen Kim Zolciak" look is not sexy, it does not make me believe that my rowdy friends have gathered anywhere nearby or accessible, and it most definitely does not get me ready for some football. On the contrary, it gets me ready for a cerebrovascular accident. Faith Hill is so talentless and dumb that she couldn't even write her own football song, and thus shamelessly stole "I Hate Myself for Loving You" from Joan Jett. This song has not been improved with new lyrics reminding me that the Gollum of sideline reporters, Andrea Kremer, will be prowling the sidelines and irritating me even more all evening. The entire atrocity is like when you're about to hook up with a really hot guy, only to achieve trouser access and realize he's rocking a golf pencil. That's hardly the way you want to start out a goddamn football game.
And this isn't just any movie about football, it's a movie about football starring Sandra Bullock, a veteran of about 8,000 shiteous chick flicks. So it makes sense for the NFL to give this movie some free press, as football fans are a demographic teeming with fans of The Lake House. What does not make sense is thinking that featuring Tim McGraw will butch this movie up for the NFL audience. Tim McGraw designed not one but TWO colognes. He probably doesn't even drive a damn truck, or if he does, it only has two-wheel drive. He's certainly no Toby Keith. He
Even worse, Al Michaels and Cris Collinsworth are contractually obligated to constantly name-check this appalling introduction. This evening, the punting unit took the field after a lackluster drive by the Bears' offense, and Al Michaels thought this would be a perfect opportunity to remind everyone what a sour note the game began on, stating, "Unlike Faith Hill, Jay Cutler has NOT been waiting all week for Sunday night...his confidence has definitely been shaken." Thanks for the Faith Hill-based analysis of Jay Cutler's humanity, Al. It really helps me understand the game better. One thing NFL fans has been missing and, in fact, clamoring for is more commentary revolving around FAITH HILL AND HER PLAGIARIZED STUPID FUCKING SUNDAY NIGHT FOOTBALL INTRO SONG!
Really, what marketing executive decided that the key to getting more people to watch Sunday Night Football on NBC was Faith Hill? I forgot that this bitch even fucking existed. Didn't Taylor Swift make her irrelevant? Nonetheless, she seems to be the executive producer of "Football Night in America," since the entire game is filled with Faith Hill references. In fact, it's not just NBC. The NFL can't seem to get enough of Faith Hill-related endorsements. Last week, I received an e-mail from NFL.com touting Tim McGraw's bit part in a movie about football.
I do not understand why the NFL and its affiliates have entered into this unholy alliance with Tim McGraw and Faith Hill. Granted, the NFL has made some questionable marketing choices in the past (such as sending me a Super Bowl XL Commemorative Steelers' Gear Catalog), but I'm completely at a loss as to why the celebrities leading their marketing efforts are these two washed-up pieces of country-fried trash. Seriously, these two must have sold their souls, or are in league with the Freemasons, or found a magic genie-filled lamp at some point, because there's just no other logical reason for them to be on my television ruining football.
Labels: cuntry singers, NFL football, ranting, sluts
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