You know something, Sunday Night Football? You’re really pushing your luck right now.
You switched out Faith Hill for Carrie Underwood, which was a little disappointing. You switched the theme song from something bearable to something I have to mute when it comes on.
You put Bob Costas, a man with all the charm and wit of a sea cucumber, in pride of place at halftime to proselytize about any inane thing that pops into his head, and I don’t even want to friggin’ think about it.
And now this Chiefs-Steelers match-up, which makes me want to punt adorable kittens into vats of hydrochloric acid, the kind that creates Batman supervillains.