Is it too late for me to join the Professional Bull Riders' Association? Seriously. Not to belittle what it is they do: it's very dangerous. But how much training would it require? You sit on the back of a pissed-off bull, you hold on with one hand and not let the other touch the bull, all while wearing a cowboy hat.

I'm just saying that it's one of those things that you probably wouldn't be able to train for. Not much, anyway. Either you're pretty good at riding a bucking bull, or you're not. I'd think not long after you tried the first time you'd know whether you were cut out for the professional circuit or not.

Granted, I'd have to do some conditioning. I'd have to have a good pain tolerance, but I think my current job has trained me pretty well in that. I'd have to be able to run...at least faster than a pissed-off bull for a few feet. And I'd have to work on my climbing skills. I'd need to be fast enough to scale one of those gates in order to flee the bull.

But I'm telling you, it's not the riders that's crazy. It's those clowns that corral the bull. Maybe that's a job they could give for community service. Say you're sentenced to 60 hours of community service....but Rodeo Clown gets a Community Service rating of 7. So for every real hour of community service you do, it'd be worth 7 on your record. If you survive 4 hours as a rodeo clown, that's 28 off your record.

But they never ask me about these kind of things.

What kind of American Man would get married any time toward the last part of January? You'd have to know that at some point in the future your wedding anniversery would have to fall on Super Sunday. It seems like that's the sort of thing that gets pointed out to a feller well in advance. Or at least at the Bachelor Party. And then it's on his mind forever. Just wait until Valentine's Day and you'll have it covered. It's sappy and easy to remember.

The funniest thing I've seen today? The pug I mentioned yesterday named Maximus. He goes absolutely bananas when it comes to Alpo. You've never seen a little dog frantically going through a whole mess of tricks trying to get somebody to set down a plate of soft dog food. In the space of about 3 seconds, he did sit, shake, speak and roll over--and roll over involves turning two corkscrews, too.

Also, his fun new game is to lose his tennis ball under the wicker furniture in the sun room. He tries to retrieve it through the holes in the design, but is unable to withdraw because his head is too big with his mouth open holding the tennis ball.

He's a neat little dog. A snorting machine. And if you're lying down on the couch, then you're fair game to become Max's new bed.

The Super Bowl is tomorrow. Here's a prediction: Raiders 31, Tampa Bay 19.

But I've bet against Tampa Bay in each of the last two weeks and have been quite wrong both times.

Just call me Big Stupid Trifecta Tommy.