My husband cannot (expletive) throw the ball and catch the ball at the same time.

Gisele.

We love her.  We hate her.  But mostly, we're just crazy catty jealous of her.  Because she's a smoke-show.  And married to Tom.

And most recently, she defended her husband to Giants' fans.  So let's judge her, shall we?

If you haven't already, you can see the spirited defense here. 

What do you think?  Was she wrong to throw his teammates under the bus?   Was it a classy move to stand by her man?  Wildly inappropriate?  Was she way off base in her assessment of the game?  Or was she just saying what the rest of us were thinking?

And what about the potty mouth?

I want to know what you think.  Do tell, do tell.

I am whatever you say I am...

There were four things that I really enjoyed about the Superbowl, and two of them were Eminem.

If you haven't gotten a chance to watch Eminem's ads I've conveniently posted them here. We're all about customer service here at W&W.

It's not a secret that I'm a big fan of Mr. Mathers.  My love goes back a long time (since back when it was controversial to be an Em fan) and has ranged from run-of-the-mill fan to borderline Fatal Attraction status.  But don't worry, this isn't going to be a post about boiling bunny rabbits.  I've written about Em's music here before, but not a lot about why I think he's so fantastic, other than, you know, the talent.  The juxtaposition between the two Superbowl ads is a great examples of why I love Eminem.  In one, Em is a silly, animated caricature peddling ice tea to the masses and in the other, a stoic, gritty jingoist almost begging for the resurgence of the city he loves.  

Imported from Detroit.

The pairing of these opposites really emphasizes the duality of Eminem that makes him so interesting to me.  Since his national debut with My Name Is, Eminem has seemed to simultaneously inhabit so many worlds -- often times in direct contradiction to each other.  He's the shy, deeply-scarred artist and the class clown; the pill-popping, controversy-baiting celebrity and the fiercely loyal friend; the high school drop out and the lyrical genius; the mother-hating, misogynist wife killer and the devoted father raising three daughters. Even his beats have always volleyed between hyperbole and subtly.  Figuring out who the real Eminem is has become the national past-time of music journalists, but I think what fans love about him is that he's all these things.  In a world that longs to classify everything, he defies the pigeonhole, and, in doing so, makes it okay for us to defy it as well.  It, therefore, seemed appropriate that his Superbowl ads were so different.


First, the Chrysler ad, which is total perfection.  You knew it was going to be good just based on the fact that it was directed by Samuel Bayer, of Smells Like Teen Spirit fame, but I didn't know how good.  I'm so into this ad that I'm thinking of actually buying a Chrysler. (Which I guess is the point of an ad, huh?)  The direction, cinematography and narration were pitch-perfect for setting the tone.  The insider's tour of the city, which most Americans probably wouldn't even recognize, was visually interesting and fun.  The glimpses of Eminem in the rear-view mirror and the fade in of Lose Yourself built suspense and excitement before the powerful, dramatic ending with the choir.  I loved the ad's depiction of Detroit as the Mickey Rourke of American cities.  Everyone likes an underdog overcoming obstacles, and Detroit has certainly been the classic down-and-out story.  Eminem brings grit, loyalty and integrity to this metaphor and I'm sure I'm not the only one who got chills.  I almost want to be imported from Detroit.  After all, it's the hottest fires that make the hardest steel.  Man, I just got goose-bumps typing it.

I don't understand how this is NOT scary.

The Brisk ad was a little more difficult for me to get behind. You see, I have a life-long fear of claymation. 


Yep, you read that correctly, I'm petrified of childhood classics like Gumby and the Rudolph movie.  And don't even mention Thomas the Tank Engine. It's not really something that I can explain, it really freaks me out - it's creepy and unnatural and I just don't like it at all.  To see my boy Eminem as claymation was confusing to say the least.  I was going to get all Juliet "my only love sprung from my only hate" about it, but I realized that may have been the tiniest bit overdramatic.  Sometimes my flair for the theatrical gets the best of me.  At any rate, I've decided to embrace the Emination as a form of therapy -- maybe seeing someone that I love depicted in clay can help me learn to love the form? Or at least not want to cry and hide when I see it?  Here's hoping.

All in all, I loved the ads and the Superbowl XLV chapter of the Eminem chronicles gets my seal of approval.  Well done, Marshall.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, the other things I liked about the Superbowl were Fergie's sparkly shoulder pads and Ben Roethlisberger's cumulative Superbowl passer rating of 66.4.  Honorable mention goes to that NFL apparel commercial that had all the clips from old TV shows.  I love anything that works 90210 clips back into the modern subconscious. 


Biggest XLV disappointment? The missed opportunity to bring Justin Timberlake back to the scene of the malfunction during Where's the Love. I mean, seriously, who wouldn't have immediately started recording if Justin had been on that moving platform instead of Slash?  Coulda, woulda, shoulda.


xo kate

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman...

If Jesus could wear a suit like that,
I might go to church more.

Here at Wildcats and Wolfpacks, we are big Pats fans.  We were (and still are) pretty shattered by the end of a fun, surprising, should-have-been-ring-number-4-(or-5) season last month. As such, we have not been overly excited for this year's Superbowl, featuring Pittsburgh and Green Bay.  It's tough to choose between a storied franchise that has inexplicably chosen to keep a thrice accused rapist employed at QB, and the team that broke our pre-teen hearts back in '97.  (For the record, we're rooting for the Packers.)   Suffices to say that we've mostly been excited to see how my low-fat pigs in a blanket turn out.

Luckily, football redeemed some of it's magic for us today, when our very own Tom Brady was unanimously named NFL MVP.  Despite a disappointing ending, Tom had a hell of a season (14-2, 36 TD, 4 INT, 3,900 YRD, 111.0 QB Rating) with a young, inexperienced team.  He's the first player ever to be unanimously voted MVP and we couldn't be prouder of his performance this season, both on and off the field.  (We think he should have won the award for not popping off douchebag-of-the-year Antonio Cromartie alone.)

Congratulations, Tom.  We love you.  Now it's time to cut your hair.

xo kate