I'm gonna pull for the refs, maybe

Okay, so here I am today, having to watch the Super Bowl of my nightmares (I believe I may have mentioned this?), in the unenviable position of having to cheer for the New England Pansies.

Because my personal NFL Hell is being forced to sit and watch as Widdle Terri Owens, Donna McNabb and that fat-assed mommy of his hold up the Lombardi Trophy and a can of Campbell's Soup.

(Really a shame I don't have a Bird of Prey™ at my disposal - the Filthydelphia Beagles would have never made it to  Jacksonville, but that's another post)

Yet, I don't really want the Pansies to win, either - because that'll automatically mean zebra intervention.  Not that this would be a bad thing, per se  (anything or anyone that puts their foot on the Beagles' collective throat and steps down is a Good Thing™), but the best games are those which are decided by the players and not the flag-throwers.

What to do, what to do...? (sigh)