Picking the Super Bowl - Celebrity Edition

It is Friday afternoon and the Super Bowl is looming over New Orleans like a drunk girl on a Bourbon Street balcony.  The only question is: will she throw us some beads, or just vomit all over our heads.

To sort this madness out, I have consulted two of the finest sporting minds in all of Uptown NOLA.

First up is Salty.

Salty, a pure-bred mutt who hails from the mean streets of our gritty city, has been analyzing football games for months now.  The outside world may have thought that she was simply sleeping on the floor while I was shouting at the T.V. this past fall.  In reality she was trying to figure out how in the heck Drew Brees was gonna slice through the opponent's Cover-2.

Salty: "I am going with the Saints, Ashton.  No way Brees can be stopped.  Especially with that giant birth-mark on his face.  Guaranteed victory."

Next up is Napolean Bonaparte.  Just like the Coneheads, Napolean comes from France.  He likes the outdoors, Mardi Gras beads, and conquering most of Europe.

Napolean: "I gotta go with the Colts.  Manning is handsome as a devil.  And he has arms.  Sexy."