That night, however, the game seemed to have its own ritual going on.
My oldest, Fred, loved all the hype that went along with it. In 2004, we were bedazzled by Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake. We all got our groove on as we watched Janet shake her thing through two songs before Justin joined her on stage.
Well ... you all know what happened next. Right? Fred let out a blood curdling scream. I about choked on a brownie. And the other four girls giggled, "Look at her titty, mommy!"
Anyway, ever since this nipple slip, I haven't bothered to watch the Super Bowl. In my opinion, I can't trust what's going to happen. So I stay clear. But I do read up on the game and the half-time entertainment.
The last several posts have been on subliminal messaging through watching television. And I don't believe this to be a wonky conspiracy theory either. I'm embarrassed to say that while my girls were growing up, I innocently subjected them to televised crap of all kinds. What was I thinking? But then mashed banana brains don't think because they can't think.
You know, there's a couple Conspiracy Theories on the Super Bowl. One, its used as a distraction to keep the masses docile and unconcerned about what's happening to America. Could be. Two, it invites the naïve into participating in an innocent little Satan worship. Could be.
Here are few videos. Tell me what you think?
Did you know Beyoncé summons a spirit named Sasha right before she performs? She's admitted to it.
Oh a and the third conspiracy is to get all the Super Bowl followers ready for the Beast System. Of course, this will be another blog.
For now, gotta run.
Hugs and chocolate, all!
Shelly
For now, gotta run.
Hugs and chocolate, all!
Shelly