Category Archives: Uncategorized

I Look Great in My Genes

After sending my spit to 23andMe in early December I waited with great anticipation to see what insights I could glean from my genetic analysis. Would I actually be Pat Sajak‘s nephew as I might have once claimed in an effort to impress girls? Or even worse yet, related to one of you? Would I have a genetic marker for a terrible disease? Would my ancestry come from countries I hadn’t anticipated? Or would I learn a bunch of obscure, weird stuff that no one really needs to know?

The answer is of course that I learned a bunch of really weird stuff.

Yes,  I learned the mundane things like 99.6% of my ancestry is from the British Isles. I’m Irish, English and Scottish. No surprises there. But there was one tiny surprise. Apparently my great, great, great grandmother must have gotten jiggy with someone during her spring break in Finland back in 1820. 0.3% of my DNA is of Finnish ancestry. Who knows, maybe I’m heir to the throne.

Now let’s get to the weird stuff! 

-My genes show that if I eat asparagus, I’m likely to be able to notice that my urine smells bad later.  Oddly, I’ve never been an asparagus eater anyway.

-I’m less likely than average to have a bunion! Check. No bunions yet! I think I may pursue a career as a foot model! 

-I have slightly higher odds of disliking cilantro. I don’t even know what cilantro tastes like. 

-My muscle composition is common in elite power athletes. Quite obviously I have used my superior muscles for blogging. I typed this whole thing in two minutes and eighteen seconds. 

-I’m likely to have “wet earwax”. Oddly, I really don’t ever have earwax, but if I did, I wouldn’t want it to be wet. Eeew!

-I’m less likely to have a fear of heights. This checks out. I’m typing this from my treehouse

-I’m likely to be bitten less frequently by mosquitos. I’ve never once had malaria

-I’m less likely to have stretch marks! That’s true. I have three kids but the skin on my stomach is as pristine as porcelain. 

-I’m likely to wake up at 7:32 a.m. They are way off on this one. 

-My big toe is likely longer than my second toe. That’s true. Like I said, foot modeling career here I come! 

Yes, those were all insights that I gained from my genetic analysis. There were others that were less interesting, like maybe a slightly higher likelihood of eventually coming down with certain diseases as I age, which is the case with everyone. I didn’t find any shockers or any new family members (Sorry Pat Sajak). But as I said, look for my feet in national ads soon. Maybe I’ll be a foot double for some actor with hideous feet! The possibilities are endless! My gene analysis has opened up a world of opportunity !

My Psychic Predictions for 2021

That’s me in the crystal ball. I’m not the lady

Five years ago when I started my psychic predictions posts, it was just for fun. Then a funny thing happened, I got some right. Startlingly, unerringly, spot on right. So I did it again the following year, and a year later I got some more exactly right. Let’s not get crazy. I’m not getting everything I predict exactly right. But I’m getting enough right that it’s possible I’ve got a little bit of psychic stuff in my big ‘ol noggin. So, back by popular demand, here are my predictions for the year of 2021!

Somebody else made this meme, but for 2020, it’s pretty spot on

Prediction #1: My first prediction is going to be an easy one that anyone could make, but I’ll back it up later with specifics. My prediction is that 2021 will be a better year not just in the United States, but for the whole world.

Prediction #2: First off, I’d like to put everyone at ease. A lot of psychics like to predict the end of the world all the time. Not me, I’m a glass half-full kind of soothsayer. Feel free to plan ahead. The world is not going to end in 2021. It already did in 2020. What are the chances it happens two years in a row? One in ten tops. I guarantee it.

I made my first world saving prediction in 2009 when everyone said the world was going to end in 2012 because that’s when the Mayan calendars ended. I was right then and I’ll be right now. Get your vaccinations and plan those vacations because you’ll be reading my 2022 predictions this time next year. Unless you don’t wear a mask in Florida Then all bets are off.

Who else will get voted off the island in 2021?

Famous Deaths in 2021: This obviously is not my favorite part of the post to write, but it is also one of the most talked about sections of my predictions every year.  Sadly, when I was writing my initial draft of this post three days ago I had a feeling and penciled in Gilligan’s Island cast member Dawn Wells . Sadly, the 82 year old who played the wholesome but sexy MaryAnn on the beloved late 60’s sitcom was unable to fight off Covid long enough so that I wouldn’t have to revise this section of my post. Oddly, the only surviving Gilligan’s Island cast member is Tina Louise, who reputedly was Dawn Wells rival on and off the set. Coincidentally, she also has not offered an alibi for where she was at the time of Ms. Wells demise. Coincidence? I think not! The autopsy and subsequent investigation will tell the tale.

Let’s get right down to it. Great Britain will be rocked by not one but two royal deaths! Don’t worry, it’s not going to be the Queen Mum. Let’s not kid ourselves, Queen Elizabeth is an alien and is never going to die, but sadly her son Prince Charles will take the eternal dirt nap without having had his turn on the throne. I’m not sure how or why, but things are not going to work out for Prince Chuck in 2021. Also the Queen’s husband, Prince Philip, will join Charles in crossing the rainbow bridge. Oddly, like Tina Louise, I will not have an alibi. Prince Philip has soiled the good name of the one L Philips one too many times.

Predictions #3: Former President Donald Trump will be besieged with lawsuits within seconds of Joe Biden’s inauguration. As he has become accustomed to lately, he will lose all the lawsuits, and will be sent to prison. On the order of the Supreme Court (go ahead, click that. They have a website) Donald Trump will be sentenced to serve his life long term in the same cell as Joe Exotic, the Tiger King from our first and best pandemic binge watch. (If you haven’t watched it, you should. It’s that train wreck you can’t look away from)

In a surprising turn of events, Joe Exotic’s legal team pleads with the court to release their client on the grounds that his incarceration was certainly deserved, but to be held in captivity with Donald Trump for eternity constitutes “cruel and unusual punishment” and violates several statutes of the 1954 Geneva Accords. After several days of debate the United States Supreme Court comes to the decision that not only will Joe Exotic and Donald Trump serve out the rest of their lives in the same 6 foot by 9 foot cell, but it will be filmed and turned into what will become the most popular reality show of all time. If only Carol Baskin could feed these two to her lions…that would be a fitting season finale.

That’s it folks. I opened my third eye and peered into the universe and I got Trump and Joe Exotic. If that doesn’t make you happy for 2021, then I don’t know what will. Have a Happy New Year, not just tonight but for the next 365 days.  Thanks for reading! ~Phil

23 and Me (And maybe YOU!)

That’s right, I’ve thrown my genetic matter into the pool and who knows who I might be related to? It could be you! How great would that be? Me and you hanging out for Christmas next year! Maybe we’ll take a family vacation together this summer! You could be my long lost brother or sister. Or maybe you’re my mom or dad. The possibilities are endless.

I ponied up the $99 to learn about my genetics. It’s not that I’m looking for more relatives. I already have a lot of those. My father had eight siblings, so I’d need a stadium to put all my cousins in one place. My interest is more in what my genes can tell me about myself medically. Admittedly, despite my best efforts and my insistence on never ever acting my age, I do keep getting older every year. In fact, I’m going to do it again on Wednesday. So, my goal is to learn about the genetic markers that might tip me off about possible future illnesses that could try to kill me.

But, if I find out I’m related to one of you, I will announce it HERE on my blog. How weird would it be if that’s how you find out that you’re the heir to The Phil Factor fortune? My wife did one of these ancestry tests a few years ago and now has two more brothers that she never knew about. It turns out that I’m one of them, which has really put a damper on our love life. Sometimes you never really know your parents, do you?

If you want to see if you and I are swimming naked in the same gene pool, send your fecal sample to 23andMe. Just kidding. You only need to send some spit. That’s it. A little spit is the key to the blueprint for all of mankind! If I get my results before Friday, I’ll be sending you a Christmas card. See you at the next Phil Factor Family Reunion!

Have a great Sunday! ~Phil

That’s Right, I’m a Baller

Do you know where the grass is always greener? I do, and I’m going to tell you.

Today could have been a day like any other, but it wasn’t. I woke up, fell out of bed and dragged a comb across my head. Then I slathered some SPF 100 on my face and I looked in the mirror and said to myself, this is it. This is the day. The day that I mow my new lawn for the first time. This is the fifth house that I’ve lived in since I began The Phil Factor fifteen years ago and I anticipate that this will be the last one. Then again, I thought the same thing a year ago, so we’ll see. I like to stay one step ahead of the law.

It’s not that I love mowing the lawn. It’s just a chore like any other, but I do like my lawn to look good. What made today important was that it was to be the first mowing of the year for my new lawn. It’s spring in the northeastern United States and lawns don’t get mowed much earlier than this because of the weather. It literally snowed here yesterday, but today the sun was shining. Because of the coronavirus I may not be able to get a trim on the hair on my head, (what do you think? Should I go man-bun?) but I’ll be damned if my lawn is going to look shaggy.

At 8:30 I pulled on a pair of badass plaid cargo shorts and my favorite baseball cap. “Phil, isn’t 8:30 a little early to cut your lawn. Won’t it disturb the neighbors who might be sleeping in? you may be thinking to yourself. Yes, 8:30 is a little early to start mowing your lawn, but that’s the point. It is, as my kids would say, “a baller move.”  I want everyone in the neighborhood to look out their front windows thinking, who the feck is out cutting their lawn today? And at fecking 8:30?  Apparently when I’m a baller I imagine that my neighbors are Irish and they like to swear

As I stood in my garage poised to push my lawn mower and my baller-ness out into this strange new frontier of suburbia, I paused, took a deep breath and imagined the first few guitar riffs of the Scorpions Rock You Like a Hurricane, then I reached out and hit the garage door opener as the vocals start,

It’s early morning, the sun comes out
Last night was shaking and pretty loud
My cat is purring, it scratches my skin
So what is wrong with another sin?

Then in my mind I skip the next verse and go straight to…

Here I am
Rock you like a hurricane
Here I am
Rock you like a hurricane

And with that chorus ringing in my mind I pushed my lawnmower out in to the sun and fired it up. Because I’m a baller.

Me cutting my lawn today was the equivalent to a fighter throwing the first punch. All the other suburbanites had been waiting. Of course nobody wants to cut their lawn, and if everyone else’s lawn looks a little overgrown, it’s OK if yours does too. So being new to the neighborhood, I threw down the gauntlet, because I’m a baller.  I imagined that all over the neighborhood wives were suddenly saying to their husbands, “Honey, the new guy is cutting his lawn. Ours is kind of long. Why don’t you go out and cut ours today?”  I don’t care that I pissed off every other guy in the neighborhood and ruined their Saturday. You know why? Because I’m a baller. I’m now the mother fecking alpha dog of this cul-de-sac. That’s right mo fo’s, because, say it with me, I’m a baller.

 

Two things: first, thank you to the Scorpions for my use of their song, which is also my ringtone, and secondly, when some lawn mower company steals my ‘leaving the garage with the mower scene set to Rock You Like a Hurricane‘ idea, prepare to be sued for copyright infringement. You know why? Because I’m a baller, and the grass is always greener in my yard. You know what would be a total baller move by you right now? Clicking the Facebook or Twitter share button below. That would be baller A F.

Have a great Easter and a great Passover or just have a great day, because you’re a baller!~Phil

#PHIL2020

#baller

Happy Blogiversary To Me

Yes, on this very day, at this exact time, on April 3rd in 2005, I put my writing legs up in the stirrups, leaned back and gave birth to The Phil Factor. Yes, the image I just described was meant to make you cringe a little.  And yes, I know that over the past year I haven’t blogged more than once a month. I’ve had a lot of real life going on in my life and I’ve discovered that for me writing is an emotional journey and if I’m distracted I’m not a good writer. I’m starting to feel a bit more settled as all the changes in my life have become the norm for me. So, as I traditionally do, I will copy and paste my very first blog post so that if you missed it, you can enjoy it as if you’re watching a re-run from an old show.

What Up Dawg?

Is it just me or is everyone sick of Randy Jackson’s act on American Idol? How many times can we hear, “What up dawg?” Or his other favorite, “It was a little pitchy in spots,” or “It was just ahh ight for me.” The dude is like one of those action figures where you squeeze him and he has three pre-programmed phrases he rotates through. Nearly as bad is Paula Abdul. Has anyone else noticed that this season she seems drunk every week? She loves everyone this season and seems to find an excuse to physically grab Simon Cowell every week. Considering her recent charge of leaving the scene of an accident after she clipped another car on the freeway, how ironic is it that her big 1988 hit song, Straight Up, included the line “caught in a hit and run”?

That’s how I introduced myself to the blogging world and I was rewarded with ZERO comments or likes. Also, I’d like to give a shout out to my longtime blogging friend Jennifer of Not Quite Perfect  ,and several other blogs, who has been blogging longer than me and is still at it. Visit her site and give her a like or comment.

I do have two blog posts planned for the next week, so maybe like Spring I am feeling rejuvenated. And of course I’m sure you want to hear my thoughts on the Coronavirus tragedy. Lastly, I want to say a sincere thank you to each and everyone of you that has visited, liked and commented on my blog for the last fifteen years. You have made my life immeasurably better. Have a great Friday!

~Phil

 

Muh-Muh-Muh My Corona (virus)!

What’s more surprising, the fact that I awoke from my hibernation to write a blog post, or that I’m going to make fun of a disease that could be the end of the human race? I say neither.

In fact, ancient soothsayer Nostradamus predicted both the disease and my blog writing resurrection when he said, “During the reign of the orange one a disease shall cull the human herd but will be cessaverunt by the oldest of bloggers. Well, he’s not the oldest, but he’s been doing it the longest. It’s Phil. I’m talking about Phil alright. What the f*ck is blogging? I have no idea. I just hear things in my head.” Shortly thereafter Nostradamus had his medication adjusted and he stopped mentioning me.

As a kid growing up, (yes I know that the ‘growing up’ part of this sentence is debatable) my way to cope with things that scared me, like scary movies and the fact that in the 1970’s there were no laws requiring parents to actually do any parenting, was to make fun of them until they go away. Buckle up buttercup, I think I’ve got a lot to say about this “Coronavirus” nonsense.

Let’s face it, if the Coronavirus can fell the mighty Tom Hanks, what hope is there for the rest of us? Well let me tell you, there’s a lot of hope and me and Tom Hanks will guide you through it. They say laughter is the best medicine, so I’m going to try to inoculate all of you. Take that any way you want ; ). Look at me using the old school emoji. How funny is that?  It’s funny, but not funny enough to kill the coronavirus, so I guess me and Tom better get to work.

One of my favorite stories that’s come out of the Coronavirus mania is the story of a bright, entrepreneurial teen in the United Kingdom, who was suspended from school for the day after selling “squirts” of hand sanitizer to his friends at Dixons Unity Academy in Leeds. Suspend him? Are you kidding? He should have been awarded an MBA degree and made the president of some company!

He only made about $11.00 American and when asked what he was going to do with his profits he said he bought a bag of Doritos – and plans to buy a kebab with the rest of his cash. OK, so maybe he’s not that bright.

That picture of empty store shelves is what the toilet paper/paper towel aisle looks like in every store in America. That’s crazy. Even if you get quarantined, how much pooping do you plan to do? I don’t recall any mention of explosive diarrhea being one of the symptoms of the Coronavirus and yet everyone is stocking up on toilet paper and paper towels as if they’re made of solid gold. And my assumption is that the paper towels are gone because people are worried about what they will use when they run out of toilet paper! Let’s say, hypothetically, that I become ill with the Coronavirus and my daily poop volume were to double. I’m sure I wouldn’t need forty rolls of toilet paper on hand. Again, I ask you, how much pooping do these people think they’re going to be doing?!!?

And for cripes sake, wouldn’t it be nice to watch five minutes of news without hearing the word “coronavirus”?!!? I’m tempted to knock off a liquor store naked while wearing a Trump mask just to give the local news something else to talk about.

That’s it for me today. Thanks again for stopping by #ThePhilFactor and I truly hope you and your family are well. Have a great weekend, unless you’re spending it all pooping. ~Phil

#PHIL2020

The Top Ten Rejected Candy Heart Sayings

You know those chalky candy hearts that for the better part of a century have been shared on Valentine’s Day? They’re so cute with their little candy inscriptions of “I love you” or “Hugs” or other nonsense. I imagine though that there were some ideas that didn’t make it.

10. It’s not you, it’s me

9. Not a cold sore

8. Maybe Next Time

9d4c2a0dbdd9e271c4d21661b682ff36

7. Better late than never

6. It’s eczema. Yes, there.  I swear.

5. The Phil Factor

download-25

4. My last test was clean

3. You paying for dinner?

2. Almost divorced

images-17

1. It’s not yours!

Happy Valentine’s Day to all of you! One of the things I’m in love with is comments. What are your funny ideas for rejected candy hearts sayings?

Have a great day, Valentine’s or otherwise! ~Phil

The 2020 Snap Judgement Oscar Awards Part 2

If you missed Part 1 of the Snap Judgement Oscar Awards yesterday just scroll down and read that first or click the link.

“Moving on to the big categories, it’s ladies first. Who wants to hear who the Best Actress is?”  There’s a round of polite applause throughout the room. “Really, that’s it? C’mon guys! Let’s hear it for the ladies!” This elicits hoots, hollers and applause. Joaquin Phoenix starts to hug Renee Zellweger a little too enthusiastically and spills his drink down her back. In the blink of an eye Gooby is on him and as I hit the garage door remote, Joaquin is dragged out screaming, “You can’t do this to me! I’m the Joker!”

“The jokes on you Joaquin,” I reply. The garage door lowers with Joaquin on the other side pounding his tiny little fists and sobbing. Of course, having done this for the previous six years, I’m unflappable. “The nominees are Cynthia Erivo, Scarlett Johansson, Saoirse Ronan, Charlize Theron, and Renee Zellweger. Some big names there along with some lesser known ladies. The winner of the 2020 Phillie Award for Best Actress is Cynthia Erivo because she’s won a Grammy and an Emmy, and having a Phillie would round out her set!”

Pic courtesy of Hollywood Reporter

“Next up is Best Actor! Since I wasn’t nominated again, yes, writing a blog is so acting. Shut up DiCaprio! How many views did your blog get this week? Yeah, I didn’t think so. I’m acting like a writer. That’s acting! Anywho, back to the awards.”

“I guess I’ll have to acknowledge that “Leo” (I did the finger quotes when I said it) earned a nod from the Academy. As did Adam Driver, Joaquin Phoenix, Antonio Banderas, and Jonathan Pryce. Obviously Joaquin has no chance because we had to drag his sorry ass out of here earlier. Adam Driver is eliminated because, well Adam, I hate to break it to you this way, but you look better in a big plastic space helmet than you did playing an actual person in that divorce movie.  So that narrows it down to Antonio Banderas and Jonathan Pryce. Jonathan, I don’t know who you are and… well, you’re asleep in your seat right now, the winner of the Phillie for the best actor is Antonio Banderas for his unappreciated work as the dad in the Spy Kids movies!” Antonio stands up, downs a shot of whiskey, throws the shot glass at the wall and strides cockily up to the podium. to collect his trophy.

Pic courtesy of Hollywood Reporter

Here’s the big one folks. Buckle up because it’s going to be a bumpy ride. The nominees for the Snap Judgement Oscar Award for Best Picture are …(I look down at the list)”Oh for cryin’ out loud! There’s nine friggin’ pictures nominated. Seriously! There were not nine movies last year that I’d spend my money on. And DiCaprio, you were in like six of them and Phoenix was in the rest! Drumroll please!…This time DiCaprio starts the drumroll on the back of the seat in front of him occupied by Charlize Theron. Then she picks it up followed by Laura Dern and one by one, everyone in the room begins the drum roll until the chanting begins, “Phillie! Phillie! Phillie!” It’s this way every year and I smile and wait a few moments until the half assed drumroll and chants start to subside.

They’re all drunk by now and if this announcement doesn’t go the right way, this room could explode. I fumble nervously  with the envelope. In the back I notice that appropriately enough, Margot Robbie is making out with Joaquin Phoenix who snuck back in past Gooby when he dozed off. Harley Quinn has again found her Joker. “Ahem…” I clear my throat to get their attention. “The Snap Judgement Oscar Award for Best Picture goes to Avengers: Endgame!” They all look at each other silently and then look back up front to me. There’s a slow build of murmuring rumbling through the room. “But since no one from that movie is here, let’s start the after party!” They all leap from their seats happily shouting and clinking classes, drowning out the protests of Scarlett Johansson who is fighting her way through the crowd towards the front.

I grab the mic for the last time, I tap it a couple times and they quiet down. “And remember, what happens in the garage,” and they all join in shouting, “stays in the garage!

Thank you for attending my soiree and I’ll see you next year. Have a great Sunday! ~Phil

The 7th Annual Snap Judgement Oscar Awards! (Part 1)

If you’re new here you may be wondering what the Snap Judgement Oscar Awards are. The Phil Factor Snap Judgement Oscar Awards, also known as The Phillies, is one of the most prestigious versions of the Oscar Awards because first of all, they’re given by me, and secondly, I host them in my garage. I haven’t seen most of the movies and I base my opinions on completely ridiculous reasons, the way you do when you pick movies to watch. So without further self-indulgent blathering, we’ll let the winners do that, let’s get on with the show!

The nominees have already finished their red carpet interviews in the driveway. Adam Driver and Antonio Banderas have already been caught by security, my friend Gooby, behind the garage shotgunning Pabst Blue Ribbons. Margot Robbie dropped her White Claw Hard Seltzer and made a run for it, only to sneak in through the back door and tried to hide in the back row with a baseball hat on. She’s fooling no one.

In my tuxedo t-shirt and ripped jeans I head for the house one last time before the ceremony. Tom Hanks is in the kitchen snorting coke off Kathy Bate’s’s bare stomach as she lays prone across my dining room table. My entrance startles them and Tom reaches for his gun, but relaxes when he sees it’s me.  “C’mon you two! The show’s about to start. Get in there!” I say as I grab a tray of Totino’s Pizza Rolls out of the oven and adjust the lights. (Phew! I’m glad I got the commercial sponsors out of the way early)

Pic courtesy of Hollywood Reporter

At the podium I can feel the electric excitement bubbling over in the room. It’s palpable. “Settle down you animals, it’s time to start the show! Who wants a Phillie?”

Applause, whistles and hoots wash over me like a tidal wave. It’s obvious that the assemblage of stars much prefer my laid-back awards show to the stuffy, uptight four hour fiasco that is The Oscars. As I’m about to start the awards I hear the pop of a champagne bottle and Joe Pesci stands up spraying the crowd with bubbly as he shouts, “F*ck the Oscars!” Laughter rolls through the garage and they hold up their glasses hoping to catch a few drops of Joe’s golden shower.

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” I shout into the mic. Here are our nominees for Best Supporting Actress: Laura Dern, Scarlett Johansson, Florence Pugh, Margot Robbie, and Kathy Bates! Scarlett, despite being a 2016 Snap Judgement Oscar winner you’re out, as is Laura Dern and Kathy Bates. Why? Your names are easy to spell and pronounce. Florence Pugh and Margot Robbie, however, have overcome the life long adversity of having to constantly correct people about the spelling or pronunciation of their names. And the winner is…(I improvise my own drumroll on the podium with my hands)… MarGot Robbie! And by the way, it’s Philip with one L, not two. Get it right next time Scarlett!”

Pic courtesy of Hollywood Reporter

“Moving on, let’s get to  Best Supporting Actor. This year the category has a star studded lineup of outstanding actors. Tom Hanks, Al Pacino, Brad Pitt, Joe Pesci, and Anthony Hopkins. Brad, I’m sorry, but you’re ruled out because you can’t make up your mind on Jen. What the f*ck is wrong with you? She’s America’s sweetheart for cripes sake!” Brad laughs and gives me the finger. “Tom Hanks, you’re out because I’m still waiting for the Bosom Buddies movie. Al Pacino? Puh-leeze! you lost me when you pulled the “Hoo hah!” nonsense in that movie twenty years ago. That brings us to Anthony Hopkins and Joe Pesci. The winner is…Anthony Hopkins because his real given name is Philip (with one L) Anthony Hopkins! Got to give props to Philip Hopkins. Yes, it’s true. Go look it up.”

This is always one of my longer posts, but I don’t want this to be as long as the actual Oscars ceremony. Come back tomorrow morning for Part 2 which will include Best Actor, Best Actress as well as Best Picture. Have a great Saturday! ~Philip

#Phil2020

The Official Blog of The Super Bowl!

Because the National Football League has yet to issue a cease and desist order to me and because it’s funny I’m re-posting this classic that I wrote last year.

I’m not saying that The Phil Factor is The Official Blog of The #SuperBowl, and I’m not saying it’s not. What I am saying is that I want to get a cease and desist letter from the National Football League’s lawyers.

download (13)

For those of you not from the States, or from the U.S. but you just don’t care, this weekend is the championship game of the National Football League, otherwise known as the #SuperBowl. I’m hashtagging those words, linking to their site, and making a point of using the phrase ‘Super Bowl’ because the NFL (No Phil League) literally tries to sue anyone who uses the phrase “Super Bowl” without paying them millions of dollars to do so. (I’m putting the words Super Bowl in bold print on the off chance that they’ll be more noticeable when someone from the NFL is looking at the internet.) Some networks even prohibit their announcers from saying Super Bowl out of fear of being sued by the NFL. Comedian Steven Colbert has taken to calling it the Superb Owl.

images (18)

I call bullshit. I don’t care who you are or what entity you’ve created, no one gets to own words. When I’m elected President, or #SuperBowl MVP (Most Valuable Phil), whichever comes first, I’m going to pass a law stating “No people or corporations can own words.” It’s a stupid idea that someone can own the right to the words #SuperBowl. I’m pretty sure that the words super and bowl were around long before American football. In fact, on Downton Abbey last week Mr. Carson was bringing soup to the Earl and Countess in this big, ornate dish and the Earl said, “Why Mr. Carson! That is the most super bowl I have ever laid my eyes upon!” Downton Abbey happened a hundred years ago, so there’s your proof that someone else used the phrase first.

DA2_05683_OP

What if I really do own a super bowl? You know, one of those cool ones with a picture at the bottom that you can’t see until you’ve eaten every drop. That is truly a super bowl. Or what about the people who invented the Perfect Bacon Bowl? That has got to be the superest of bowls. If there were a vote I’m pretty sure that the Bacon Bowl beats out football as the best kind of bowl. I’m also pretty sure that the Bacon Bowl people aren’t going to sue me for mentioning their product. In fact, they might even send me a free Bacon Bowl maker for mentioning it (hint, hint). Click on the video below. The song is a hilariously awesome and may sound more than a little like Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody.

I’m also sure that the folks in the legal marijuana states of Washington and Colorado  think their bowls are pretty Super too. Is the NFL going to sue anyone there who says to their smoking buddy “Man, this is one super bowl“?

I’m not afraid to say any word I want. And by the way National Football League, what in the hell makes you so arrogant to think that you have to police the world to make sure no one uses your phrase? I would like to hereby announce that I am legally forbidding anyone from referring to themselves as the official anything of #ThePhilFactor unless I declare it. There you go National Football League. I dare you to declare your #SuperBowl is The Official Super Bowl of The Phil Factor. You know what though? I’m not going to sue you if you do. They’re only words. If you think my blog is so awesome that you want to affiliate yourself with it, great, but it’s going to cost you. In fact, nevermind. The title is already taken. I’m officially declaring that the Perfect Bacon Bowl is The Official Super Bowl of The Phil Factor. And if the Perfect Bacon Bowl people wanted to buy advertising space in my sidebar I’m not opposed to that.

As always, if you enjoy #ThePhilFactor, which is the #SuperBowl of blogs, please share by hitting the Facebook, Twitter, or re-blog button below. Have a great #SuperBowl weekend! ~Phil