Survival Month

I was walking down the street with Eric Quincy Grimes yesterday after a scrumptious BK Whopper meal (followed by Toby's Wings for dinner. I think I may have caught diabetes...) and he pulled a little switcheroo as we came to the street corner. I was confused, and sensing as much, Eric explained, this way, you're between me and oncoming traffic, so if a car swerves onto the crosswalk it will tag you instead of me.

Good thinking Grimes!!  And it got my mind working as to how I would escape potentially fatal situations such as that one (a car veering towards me), so without further adieu, Part 1 of my survival list for potentially fatal situations that the average fellow might find himself in.

1) Avoiding an oncoming car while on foot

If you've been suckered by the ol' switcheroo (the oldest trick in the book) and find yourself walking on the traffic side of a crosswalk and a car swerves towards you, jump. Some people may say that if you have time to jump, you probably have time to get out of the way. Shut up. That's stupid. If there is a car heading straight for you, jump as high as you can and lift your knees to your chest. If the car does strike you, at worst it will hit your ankles, and without your body weight to anchor them to the ground, you'll just spin like a pin-wheel before slamming onto the cold, cold concrete. And sure that'll hurt. But you'll probably just have broken ankles (6-8 weeks of healing) instead of a severed spinal chord. Also, if the car doesn't hit you and you clear it, that would be fucking AWESOME!!!

2) Avoiding an oncoming car or truck while in a car

Remember this? Man, who doesn't!?? That's Kirsten's car getting slammed by a garbage truck in Episode 22 of The OC, "The Showdown," just seconds after she realizes she's becoming an alcoholic. 

This specific scene has been used many times in many different films - most notably in Adaptation and No Country For Old Men but also in those messed up "Holy Shi-" Volkswagon commercials. If this is happening to you, step on the gas!! You know the saying, "like a deer caught in the headlights"? You know what happens after the deer is caught in the headlights? It is literally caught and splattered all over the headlights. Don't be a deer. There is literally NO REASON IN THE WORLD that a family car needs enough pick-up to go from 0 to 60 in 3.4 seconds EXCEPT to avoid an oncoming garbage truck. Make use of this feature. Step on it.

3) Disarming terrorists if they attempt to seize the room you are in

A handy habit that you can easily implement in your day-to-day life is always count the number of people in a room. Remember that number. If there are less than 30, the statistically there are more than enough bullets in the average semi-automatic weapon to murder/death/kill every single person in the room. If this is the case, someone is going to need to man up. Terrorist "specialists" will say that when you are taken hostage, you should always cooperate and leave the negotiations to the professionals. Well that's convenient isn't it? Of course the guys who make their living negotiating are going to say you shouldn't do it - the last thing they need is more competition. Instead think of it this way, there are three kinds of people in this world: John McClanes [pictured], Harvey Ellis' [the coked up big business negotiator] and the pregnant woman. The pregnant woman lays low and hopes to survive. The Harvey Ellis believes he can charm their way out of any problem, usually only to discover he can't. John McClane's, however, are the ones that have movies made after them (based on the assumption that Die Hard is a true story). If someone storms into a room, you should always think to yourself, "now is my time to be John McClane."

And how do you do it? Throw a chair. Chairs are generally big enough to really put someone off balance if they're hit with hit, but light enough to be lifted and thrown hard. Always look for a chair in a room that you think, if push came to shove, you could throw hard at a person standing in a doorway. Always take the seat that gives you the most direct throw at the doorway without being in a line of fire. And always try to find someone larger (who looks a little slow) who will sit between you and the doorway. 

When an armed assailant enters the room, take stock, is he pointing his gun upwards? If so, throw your chair right away, and leap over your desk following it. The assailant will be preoccupied by the chair and momentarily caught off guard. Wrestle the gun from the person and shoot them. If they have already started shooting, their potential partners won't think anything of more gunfire. If he starts shooting straight forward and/or spraying bullets, get down and count the shots. When you hear about 30, they are likely out of bullets. NOW! Throw the chair! Bam, you're the hero, end of story.

Next Week: Escaping a collapsing crane, persevere through a tiger attack, surviving being poisoned.

What Would You Do? : Part I

Please read the posting below if you're confused about this posting.

What Would You Do?

Part I

I have yet to figure out the purpose of these words I’m currently writing (and maybe you’re reading). Not yet anyways. They could end up scrunched up in the garbage can, ashes in the fireplace, the first chapter of a memoir, or if I’m brave enough, a suicide note.

Now I know what you’re thinking. I’m pretty sure 99% of you probably jumped to the same conclusion. Hell after what I just wrote, it’s not much of a jump, more of a hop. But you would be wrong. I’m not unhappy. Quite the opposite actually.

Maybe I should introduce myself, I’m sorry if this seems a little scatterbrained, but I’m not much of a writer, I took a class once back in my early University years but it didn’t really take, I usually go off on tangents and find it hard to….ok wait sorry….here I go again…back to my introduction. My name is Ben Billings. I’m turning 44 on May 15th this year. I’m married to an amazing woman named Jennifer (yes Ben and Jen!) and our 18th anniversary is coming up in three weeks. We have two kids. Jason who’s 13, and Rachel who just turned 11. I work in the advertising industry and have a solid job that I’m not only quite good at, but fond of as well. I golf most weekends, play hockey in a beer league, and semi-regularly attend a book club most weeks if the novel in question captures my interest.

So that’s me in a nutshell I suppose. Doesn’t sound too awful does it? Well as I mentioned earlier, herein lies the problem. To this date, I am currently responsible for about 170 deaths. That’s a rough estimate with a margin of error of probably +/- 20. Sounds pretty flippant of me to throw numbers around like that when it comes to human lives doesn’t it? Well I’m not trying to seem insensitive, I just don’t know the exact number that’s all. Some may have been my fault, some may have just been a coincidence, and then of course I may have missed a few here and there. I mean I’ve taken my fair share of vacations with the family, and it’s not always easy to get a hold of a smalltown newspaper, although the internet has made it a little easier.

Sufficiently confused? I’d bet the farm that you are. No you’re not reading the confessions of a serial killer. No I’m not a pilot who somehow survived a horrific crash. If I had to be honest I’d say I don’t really have a bad bone in my body. Quite frankly what it comes down to, is that I’m a jinx.

Something New on the Chronicles of Gritz

Alright well we've never been much for conventional wisdom here at the Chronicles of Gritz. So i figured i might as well shake things up a bit and stop telling stupid stories from my past every damn day. So today i've decided to try a new type of posting. I'm currently writing another short story. Those who read the first one i wrote are probably thinking. "Oh god....not another one of those fucked up stories. I used the last one as toilet paper." Well i'm doing it anyways. I've written some of it already so i'm going to post an excerpt every working day that i can until it's done. Right now i don't think it's shaping up to be super long so i'd be amazed if it even lasted a week. Never the less i'm going to do it. The first posting will be above this. Hope you like it!

Awesome

Every Monday deserves something awesome, mostly because every Monday usually just screws you over instead. Like today, I went and had a delicious lunch with two upstanding young men: Eric Wendy Grimes and Colin Queerson Pearson. I saw them standing in line at the Taco Bell (note: those are awesome song lyrics - Make Your Exit, you can have them, but I want "special thanks to..." credit on the next album) so I sauntered on over, and unsure of what to get just said to the lady, "I'll have what he's having."

Well maybe Pearson's stomach has become bullet-proof from way too many extreme munchies over the years ("Pearson, do you really need to put Frank's Red Hot on pickles and ice cream?") but lordy day, has mine ever not. The #1 Meal went through me like a laser beam. #1 when I ordered it, #1 when it came out. I was screaming "AHHHHH!!" like Stallone running away from an exploding building. To quoth Grandma's Boy, "I have to pee." "Why don't you pee in the bushes?" "I have to pee out of my ass..." It was terrible. I did the penguin walk all the way from Blue Jays Way to my office holding me breath. 

But the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. So when I lost my dignity I was awarded this, the new redband trailer for Observe and Report, the blatant although clearly highly superior rip-off of beloved American icon Paul Blart: Mall Cop. Behold (warning, NSFW):

Montreal: A Tale of Heartache and Lust

So now that i've returned from the city of my ancestors, I feel you're all dying to know about the weekend that was. Did I find the girl of my dreams from the photos i posted? How close did the actual weekend resemble my prediction? Well sit back, grab a coffee, while I spin you a tale of a trip for the ages.

Friday:

Well we had a bit of a later start than we had hoped for. There was confusion amongst the participaters which resulted in myself Julien and my bro not getting out of Toronto until around 6, and heading to the airport to pick up Dave who was returning from his week away in California hobknobbing with rich folks. By the time the airport pickup was complete it was inching closer to 7 and the outlook for a night out in Montreal was looking bleak. I should have known better. Mark "Leadfoot" Grimes got us to Kingston in record time before passing the reins to his younger less accomplished brother (ME!). Feeling the heat of expectation and the energy from an A&W hamburger I pushed the envelope, and spoke softly to the steering wheel of our old Dodge Caravan. "Just you and me girl....we can do this....i love you so much." She didn't disappoint. To our delight we arrived in Montreal shortly after midnight, and slammed a couple of Red Caps back in the room before hitting the streets.

St. Laurent has changed, that much is true. I didn't recognize half the new bars or restaurants, but the old faithful was still there, Bifteck. We cruised upstairs, grabbed 4 beauty spots at the bar, eyed up the bartender who was a looker no doubt, and ordered up 4 jagerbombs and two pitchers. What's that? No redbull? But it's 5 shots for 15 bucks? Done, 5 shots of jager, I manned up and took the extra one. So we sat there amongst the young University kids, feeling our age for sure but having a hell of a time, when all of a sudden i had a 2 year psyche student all up in my grill. I wish i could say the rest of this story was R-rated. But i clearly must be getting old cause goddamn was she annoying. So wasted she couldn't even speak properly, and she spent the whole time just eyeing up my extra shot of Jager. Ummm.....HELL NO! Through that one back but she stuck around either way. With encouraging looks and gestures from my 3 compatriots i struck up some light conversation, which was clearly all she was capable of. But my heart was not in it. Probably wouldnt' have amounted to anything anyways. Random fact however is that she lived in 900 Sherbrooke, the very same building that old Ramy Rashad used to inhabitate! Soon we had some more pressing issues, Mark's stomach woes that had started the day before reared their ugly head and he had some violent vometing issues, not once but twice in the bathroom of Bifteck, and although i didn't see, from the sounds of it he coated most of that bathroom in upchuck. So we eventually took our leave and of course went straight to "La Belle Province" for some late night poutines that didn't disappoint, then passed out in our hotel suite. I snored.

Saturday:

We woke up feeling not too worse for wear. Lazed around the room a bit, showered and prettied ourselves up since we knew we wouldn't be returning til the early hours of the morning the next day. First stop...."Eggspectations" for breakfast/lunch/brunch. Why are french canadian girls so hot? After a good fill up of sustenance we headed to Peel Pub. Myself and Julien made the mistake of not properly checking the drinks menu before ordering a pitcher. It was a mistake we wouldn't make twice however, because we noticed bottles of Bud Lite were 2 bucks. Done and done. For the next 3.5 hours we watched afternoon hockey games on the oddly yellow projection screen in front of us, and downed bottle after bottle of Bud Lite. We even had an incredible cameo from one of my bro's best friends Bryan Vaughan and his lovely fiancee Sharene (spelling?). The place filled up, there were chants of Go Leafs Go, return chants of Go Habs Go, i got steadily drunker and booed every person in a Leafs Jersey thinking that it was just hilarious. I also met my future wife. I have a picture with her. She was doing promotions for Molson Ex, and she......well she.....she's my everything. I'm blowing that shit up to poster size and putting it on my wall.

GAMETIME! Paid our tab, and walked down to the holyland. I got a chill, not from the cold, but from seeing the Bell Centre lit up in all it's glory. Our seats were in the 200 level, the Desjardins Club, which means free coat check, and free food all game. Yes you walk up to the concession stands just like you normally would, but when it comes time to pay....you don't. Except beer....that's not free. So the game is blurry, but from the text messages i received from a few of you dickheads i'm sure you know what happened. 5-2 Leafs win. Devastating. Horrifying. Possibly night ruining? Fuck that, i come to Montreal for a game once a year, i love this city, i'll fight through the pain. I'm feeling a little tired, all that beer plus 2 slices of 'za, a hot dog and nachos will do that to ya.

Myself, Mark, and Julien leave the game without Dave, he's off with Vaughany celebrating the Leafs win on the streets with all the other obnoxious fucks. So what to do now? Easy.......rippers here we come! Straight to Wanda's, the home of the 8 dollar lap dance. We pay our 2 dollar cover and get some nice seats right in front of stage 2. Dave eventually shows up and joins us and we hunker down for some good old fashioned male entertainment. Now i'm not one of those people that consistently attends strip clubs. But once in a while in the company of your buddies, they're a damn good time. So we had some drinks and watched the entertainment which was great. Julien had left to go to the bathroom at one point and i remarked to Mark and Dave when he hadn't returned for a while, "is Ju actually taking a shit at a strip club?" Nope....turns out he was buying me my first lap dance ever. Yup....never had one....something stupid i brag about similar to never running a marathon and never having had a Starbucks coffee. 2 out of 3 are still intact. It's a little strange having a girl dance buck naked just for you, when there are several people all around you watching both her, and your reaction to her. That being said.....thankyou Julien.....thankyou so much.

We left Wanda's after a little while. So where to next now that we'd satisfied our urge for adult entertainment? Super Sexe. Montreal's most well renowned....strip club. DON'T JUDGE ME! Super Sexe rules, cause it's always got a good crowd, and a ton of girls. Seriously they have so many strippers on any given night and they're just milling about hanging out with each other, giving dances at tables. Good atmosphere for sure. Also they cater to pretty much every person's taste, no matter what you're into, you can probably find it there, as evidenced by the largest stripper i've ever seen wearing just a bra and thong. So we rode out the rest of the night there. Hilight of the night was probably when some guy who was getting married got pulled up on stage by two strippers. Poor guy. They played around with him a bit, rubbed their boobs in his face. Then took his clothes off leaving him in just his underwear. Then he lay face down on the ground, they ripped his underwear off, and strapped him as hard as they could across the ass with belts numerous times. Gotta admit he took it real well! From there it was off to "La Belle Province" again, for late night poutines, followed by hockey hilights in the hotel room and passing out.

Sunday:

The least exciting day by far. Woke up feeling good and shitty. Headed to Champs, had a lunchtime meal while watching the Pens vs. Red Wings game. Julien headed to Shwartz's and picked up the essential smoked meat to bring home. Then we were off with Julien and Dave sharing the drive home.

I had an awesome weekend, i always do in Montreal, it's still my favorite city in the world, a summer trip needs to happen, so we can do the things we missed, the casino, the biodome, Tam Tam's. Let's make it happen.

Ol' Hockey Perv Grimes

So i'm not going to lie, i've been checking out my own blog repeatedly ever since yesterday. Not to see if anyone has commented. Not to reread my own writing. But for one reason and one reason only. To continuously look at the picture i posted with the Montreal blog. I'm dangerously obsessed with it. I have no idea why, but for some reason the idea of a girl, any girl, wearing any sort of Habs paraphenelia is basically porn for me. It's like that scene in Wayne's World when he sees Cassandra on the stage for the first time and "Dreamweaver" starts playing. So I decided for those who suffer the same affliction of me, i'd post a few more random habs hotties. Enjoy.

Shania Twain? Habs fan? I had no idea, but now "You're Still The One" is even more special to me than it was before.

This girl is definitely French Canadian, you can see it in her eyes, and just so damn hot, some people don't like the whole pink jerseys/tshirts for girls and sports teams....i'm all for it.

Is this the girl from Transformers? Megan Fox? Kind of looks like her doesn't it? I would do awful things with that flag. I wonder if it's on ebay?

Good god....

That's a sweet jersey underwear combo, bonus points for the chinese symbol tattoo poking out.

Ok it's official, i'm fully in love, this is the one, screw partying this weekend, i'm spending every waking moment trying to find this girl.

Mike Komisarek. God among men. He could have any one of those girls above....as long as he leaves just one of them for me.

Well boys i hope you enjoyed that one even if you're not a Habs fan, and to the ladies, you may now start the sexist comments. I don't care, fully worth it.

Huh...

So I'm surprised I didn't see this post on Will Leitch's blog yesterday when it was posted. It's already had quite a bit of doubt cast upon it in other circles (namely by crazies at Politico of all places...) but it's worth a look because, you know, they revoke Super Bowl rings every once in a while so it's important to keep flogging the details of the game...

Thoughts?

Montreal Timeline

First off i must apologize, i've been part timing really hard this week and letting my counterpart Mr. Kitz pick up the slack for me, which he always seems to do in miraculous fashion. Truth is believe it or not that i've been busy as fuck over here so i haven't really been able to get around to posting anything of merit. However i've got a bit of a lull right now, so i figured i might as well try and spit some drivel out for the masses. So without further ado, I present to you, my weekend in Montreal as i envision it right now.

Friday

7:12 a.m.- Alarm goes off, tired as fuck, hit snooze.

7:57 a.m. - After hitting snooze 5 times i finally roll my ass out of bed and into the shower, dress for success, and show up for work 10 minutes late.

8:40 a.m. to 12:40 p.m. - Try to get shit done between fantasizing about returning to La Belle Province. Not Quebec, but the restaurant, i defy you to find a better poutine in the world, not possible.

12:45 p.m. - Getting frustrated waiting for Colin to show up, you'd think that meeting him about 3 times a week, and him always being late, would maybe teach me to show up a little late myself? Nope, i'm not that smart, Colin finally shows up 6 minutes late looking at the time with a guilty smile on his face. Douchebag.

1:45 p.m. to 4 p.m. - Try to coast through the rest of the day and then leave an hour early cause we have to pick Dave up from the airport as he is returning from a trip to California. While waiting for Dave, strongly consider pushing Julien in front of a taxi, urge eventually fades.

5 p.m. to 11:30 p.m. - On the road, traffic's a bitch getting out of Toronto, but eventually the 401 clears and it's smooth sailing. Julien doesn't pee once the whole way cause he's a human dromaderie (camel). I pee 16 times, most of which are in bottles in the car which i try to swap with people's drinks, they aren't amused. Julien falls asleep with ease. Dave regails us with golf stories. I play with myself a little bit hoping no one will notice....they do notice.....silence til we arrive.

11:30 p.m. to 4 a.m. - Quickly check into our hotel on Rene Levesque. Holy fuck i forgot how cold Montreal is. Get our shit in order, straight to St. Laurent, and over to Bifteque. Order 5 shots of whisky for 11 bucks. Dave has to take 2 cause there's only 4 of us. Get trashed unusually quick. Look at hot girls and talk about how we would love to hook it up! When one accidentally looks over, we all quickly cast our eyes downward and giggle to ourselves. Stumble to La Belle Province around 3:30 a.m., get poutines to go, eat them in our hotel rooms, 3 out of 4 of us snore.

Saturday

11:00 a.m. - Wake up.....hungover....ugh.....take our sweet ass time getting ready, good lord it looks cold outside!

12:15 p.m. - Decide it's time to make a move, it's only so often you get to come to Montreal.

12:45 p.m. to 2:00 p.m. - Finally actually make a move, and walk our asses through the downtown en route to Peel Pub, occasionally popping into a store here and there to check some merchandise we probably won't buy, but more importantly to warm up. Several times i try to grab Julien's hand and hold it as a fun little joke, he doesn't like it. Dave nuts me. He is unsuccessful however because my balls have retreated inside my body for survival. Finally arrive at the holyland.....Peel Pub.....time to get sloppy.

2:00 p.m. to 6:15 p.m. - Peel Pub is pretty uncrowded when we arrive, Dave gets a couple scattered boos due to his Leafs Jersey. We are delighted to find out they still offer their "5 Bud Lights for 9 Dollars" deal from the previous year. Julien is especially happy since he's already switched to light beer for good....pansy. Over the course of just over 4 hours, we go through 11 buckets of 5 Bud Lights, some regrettable food choices, numerous high fives with strangers due to our Habs Jersey's, fleeting moments of wondering if we're too hammered to be in public, and finally pay our tab and take to the streets for the walk to the Bell Centre.

6:35 p.m. - There she is. My Jerusalem. The temple. The Bell Centre. Can you feel that? Can you feel that energy? It doesn't matter in a given season whether one team is good and one team sucks, whenever the Habs and Leafs square off, the energy in the building is electric, this is going to be awesome.

7:12 p.m. to 9:55 p.m. - The game. Clearly the Habs win in a 5-1 drubbing of the blue shirts. Grabovski and Kostitsyn make good on their promise to scrap. I scream "YEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!! PUT HIM IN A BODY BAG!!!" I get some odd looks. Clearly some people need to rewatch Karate Kid. I feel bad when Grabovski is actually taken out in a body bag. Kovalev scores twice on the power play, and Higgins, Markov, and Lapierre all add goals of their own. Price is only beaten once on the power play when a puck deflects off a skate in front. Chants of OLE OLE OLE OLE! rain down from the stands. Insults from French Canadiens are hurled at anyone sporting a Leafs Jersey. Dave takes it all in stride. Oh and i failed to mention....our seats at the game are in the Air Canada Section, which means free food all game. Awesome. I walk out of the game feeling like a million bucks. Then proceed to puke on the sidewalk.

10:05 p.m. - Trying to decide what to do, where to go, Crescent Street? Back to St. Laurent? Strip Joint?

10:20 p.m. to 12:13 a.m. - Take a wild guess. Emily's strip club. 8 dollar lap dances, sure i've never had a lap dance before, but i can brag about knowing the prices. Instead we are cheap bastards and just watch as old french dudes get lap dances at the tables close to ours. Nurse a couple of beers and enjoy the show. I tell one stripper, "You.....youuu......you.....youlooksogood.....youlooksogood." Her lips say thanks but her eyes say fuck off. So we do.

12:30 p.m. to 3 a.m. - Bar hopping along Crescent Street until we find something off the hook. We've been drinking for over 12 hours by this point so things are getting a little fuzzy and energy is wearing thin, but how often do you actually come to Montreal? Once a year maybe twice, so gotta keep it going. I try to chat up a bartender, she tells me i'm a great friend and that i should add her on Facebook. Eventually we all admit that we're pretty much cashed. Head to Boustan for some shawarma's and garlic potatoes and then bring that shit back to the hotel room. Mark opts for another poutine from "La Belle Province" instead. We all are kind of jealous we didnt' do the same. One by one we pass out with the Tv on.

11:30 a.m. - Phone is ringing, it's the front desk, check out was half an hour ago could we please vacate the room?

12:30 p.m. - Another phone call, "yeah ok we're leaving man relax."

12:45 p.m. to 6 p.m.- Check out, grab the van, quick chat about what we should do. Stick around for another couple of hours? Head back now? Julien suggests we find a rink and play some outdoor hockey cause he's obsessed and rightly so. The rest of us shoot him down immediately because it's -50 Celsius. We decide to make the drive back. Conversation is not as lively as it was on the way to Montreal. Someone suffers from Big D. We eventually make it back to Toronto feeling like sacks of dirt, but overall agree that was one hell of a weekend.

So that's what i envision is going to happen this weekend. I'd imagine i'll be pretty damn accurate but i suppose we will see. Either way i'm pumped, GO HABS GO!

Love/Hate

So as many, many, many, many of my roommates know, I have a continuing love/hate relationship with How I Met Your Mother (hereto known as HIMYM). On the one hand, it's absolutely hilarious and chock-full of amazing comedy nuggets known in the biz as "call-backs" or "in-jokes." On the other hand, it's on CBS. I mean, lordy day!! CBS?!? You're killing me here HIMYM!!

I have to admit though, that coming across both Ted's old website (from when he was an underground DJ in college) AND Barney's video resume today really started tipping the scales. And with it also be shown on E! now (along with such boundary-pushing shows as The Girls Next Door and the slightly less nude-women-based The Soup) I may have to put in squarely in the Love column [Ed. note: The Chronicles of Gritz currently does not have a "Love Column" nor a "Love Post" and Alex is already way over his limit in "Awesome" posts so don't expect to see anything more about HIMYM on this website.]

Awesome

Well, last night there was this bowl. The "Super" bowl. Super? You betcha. First off, The Boss dished out a free lesson in how to rock and roll. Secondly, Kurt Warner hits Fitzy for a TD in the 4th quarter has everyone screaming their heads off (except Mumford) and then, with just seconds left, Big Roeth hit's Holmes!! Unbelievable!! I put back a few too many beers and proceeded to offend Anna twice with impressions of different nationalities. All in all a good time. But sadly, there was one thing missing from the evening. A 12 foot-long meatball sub? Well, yeah, that was missing too, so I guess there were two things missing from the evening: a 12 foot-long meatball sub and US Super Bowl ads. Now, everyone has probably dedicated their mornings to catching up on these 30 second masterpieces, but in case you haven't, here are (in my esteemed opinion) the Top 5 Super Bowl Commercials from 2009.

#5 - Hulu with Alec Baldwin. 

I can't really say why I think this one is funny, maybe just Baldwin saying, "DYNO-MITE!!" but whatever it is, it's good.

#4 - Cars.com with The Doctor

Grimes has a good sized list of things that scratch him right where he itches. Well for me, the biggest is people being awesome at stuff. You know that scene at the end of Groundhog Day when Bill Murray pulls off a perfect day? Amazing. And when Will Ferrell turns out to be a killer flautist in Anchorman? Perfection. So this commercial really speaks to me. Behold:

#3 - Etrade with The Babies

Maybe I'm too sentimental. Or maybe my biological clock is ticking, and I secretly know that I only have a few good years left in me to pull a Junior and have a man-baby (a baby born of a man, not a baby that comes out a full grown man...). Either way, this one rules. Mostly because even if it were full-grown men, I'd love the back-and-forth and the stretching of the golden pipes.

#2 - Monster with The Moose 

First of all, moose are ALWAYS funny. Literally, anytime something happens with a moose I'll probably laugh. This one continues that streak. And how! The reveal is amazing and man alive does it ever hit the nail on the head for how I feel at work.

#1 - Bud Light with Conan 

I mean, honestly, can YOU think up something funnier than Conan doing anything!?! I can't, which may be why this one takes the cake for best commercial of the year. Other newspapers and magazines have said that the Dorito's commercial with the old dude getting hit in the nuts is the winner (and on any other day of the week, I'd agree) but Conan in red mesh? Hello!!

BONUS 

And of course, no review of Super Bowl commercials would be complete without this one for next year's shoe-in for Best Picture Oscar.

And also, this one for Jack In The Box. The guy in the phone reminds me of Kevin James (or, as he's better known, Paul Blart, Mall Cop) and you know that means guffaw-city.