First of all, I am just going to blindly assume that these are all legitimate Super Bowl Babies and not actors because that would just be fucked up. The whole Kanye/Wiz fiasco has me feeling very jaded right now. But this is some serious Butterfly Effect shit. Can you imagine your entire existence being thanks to 53 gladiators you will probably never meet playing a game? And even to bang it down even more, just a play here or there. That group of 2008 Super Bowl Babies almost vanished like Marty McFly during the Enchantment Under The Sea dance if it wasn’t for an Asante Samuel drop or the entire David Tyree play. Countless lives in New England wiped out that night. And then thousands created again after Malcolm Butler’s interception. Meanwhile, those Cowboys kids were probably conceived during halftime of that last Bills Super Bowl.
But the last thing in the world I want to know is when my parents had sex. I want to believe they only did it three times their entire lives. I sure as hell don’t want to be in a commercial commemorating the entire night. Because those lyrics get specific. Talking about canoodling and cuddling afterwards, even though there is definitely no cuddling after Super Bowl Championship sex. A night filled with eating, drinking, likely a four hour emotional roller coaster, and then a shitload of postgame partying doesn’t lend itself for romance. I guarantee the dads of all these kids were asleep before any of those sperms were sniffing that egg. All that’s left after Super Bowl Championship sex are the smells of sex, stale beer, wing sauce, and some heavy snoring.
And if we are being honest, the worst part about that commercial wasn’t a bunch of people thinking about their parents having sex. It was the magical pipes of Seal being overshadowed. The man was able to land Heidi Klum despite being all carved up. I mean he does have the voice of an angel and I bet a hog on that would place him on Juan Uribe’s level. But the point remains.
And of course, just because