KSK Super Bowl XLI Comment Bukkake

And, so: this. Our long, but not long enough, season's journey into night has come and we are left with a contest of wills between two Midwest teams with black coaches. One quarterback has megacephalous and wants Chesney "deep in the Manning vault." The other has extended his bloodline further than Genghis Khan.

Here are our plans for today:

Caveman, as you know, is an asshole partying it up in Miami with hookers, C-list celebs and Joe Namath. We hope he pulls as Agent Zero and gets arrested in hilarious fashion. Or, you know, gets in the stadium. Either way, we're gonna be in need of some material soon.

The D.C. KSK Contingent (Unsilent, Drew and myself) will be watching the game at Unsilent's Mary Beth-El Orthodox Temple of Football, where he'll do regular readings from the Torah, or the 'Skins 700 page playbook; that is, when we're not on the look out for commenter Clint burning crosses outside his front door. I'll be groaning that this whole Super Bowl thing should have ended with Forty. Good news for our female commenters: There will be butter involved, but likely it'll just be used for Drew's breadwiches.

Punter will have the game on just loud enough in the background so as to overly disrupt his donkey porn and Challenger disaster viewing.

And flubby will be leaving flowers at Falco's unmarked grave, which means he'll just drop them on some arbitrary patch of dirt during halftime and leave it at that.

Leave any and all comments on the game, commercials, your hatred of Norbit and whatnot.