39.

39? No no no, this is the Superbowl we're talking about, so we gotta have the hip Roman numerals.

XXXIX - much better.

So, [insert winner here] won, did they? Who'd've thunk it?

Nah, to be honest, the game's still going on as I type this (21-14 for New England - sorry, Philly), but I'll be buggered if I'm gonna sit through another hour of this. Not that it's an unattractive sport, because it isn't, but it's past bloody 3AM over here.

Must. Sleep.

I did happen to catch the halftime show, though. Paul McCartney. Hang on, Paul McCartney? In the Superbowl? Where's the controversy in that? I half expected Britney to run on stage, rip Paul's pants off and reveal his British bullocks. Accidentally, of course.

One of the most amusing aspects of this American Football of yours (tell me, where exactly do feet come into play?) is the fact that the referees occasionally throw these fluffy little thingies at players whenever a foul is made. My proposal, replace these cuddly toy-like 'flags' with sharp stones and/of fully grown sea lions and you'll have a sport I'll willingly lose precious sleep over.

Until then, good night.

Cheers