PEA BRAIN

Recently I received an email from the good folks at Best Buy asking the tantalizing question: "Do you want to see the Black-Eyed Peas live?" Good god, no! After having the misfortune of viewing their Super Bowl halftime performance on TV a few weeks ago, make that a definite, emphatic, no doubt about it NO! Best Buy couldn't pay me to attend one of their concerts.

Although I have to admit Fergie has a rockin' solid, albeit knock-kneed, body in her little alien outfit, her pitchy screeching at the SBowl left me flat. The Pea Boys weren't as bad, but their dance troupe (I guess they were supposed to be robotic glow-sticks) were simply too robotic for my taste.

Anyway, I emailed back to Best Buy, thanking the business for its invitation, but said I would most certainly rather eat black-eyed peas, rotten ones, than go to a Black-Eyed Peas concert. Then I got an automated response back telling me not to respond to their email. Fine with me. Remove me from your mailing list, if you like. But please, no Peas.