The Super Bowl isn't just the center of the universe for the sports business, but also for anybody working at E! or People. Even TMZ had a giant mobile billboard just outside the stadium in Glendale -- probably reminding party-goers to send them any interesting photos.

While the teams were sequestered away under heavy guard (a cop only seemed to half-joke about shooting me when I pulled into a wrong driveway near the Giant's hotel), the celebrities of America came to cut loose.

Phoenix (especially the Scottsdale area) was turned into a desert hybrid of Malibu and Hollywood. Maxim took over a high-end resort on Friday to host one of the most famous bacchanals, where the Patron flowed freely from almost a dozen bars. Celebrities ranged from Akon and DJ AM (who both performed) to McLovin and several cast members of the Hills. There were also sports celebs like Steve Young, Marcus Allen, and Rich Eisen. The most bizarre moment was when Tom Arnold randomly tried to tackle Michael Clark Duncan from behind on the red carpet. Guess who won.

While most party-goers walked out with free t-shirts and prizes from the boutique (intimate massage cremes, curling irons, and other random stuff), the true A-listers got hooked up with items like the Icepod, an iPod carrying case plated in gold and encrusted in diamonds, with a gold chain to carry it around your neck. I took a shuttle with the company's founder, who informed me that he almost broke the bank giving away so much free bling two weeks ago at Sundance. You can't even buy the Icepod yet, unless you have a special celebrity VIP code. Apparently it's still in vogue to spend all your seed money on marketing.

The other legendary Super Bowl event -- the Playboy party -- was held on Saturday. A long drive out of town near an Indian casino, they took a dusty piece of scorched earth and built their own oasis from the ground up. Despite being within ear-shot of the Giant's team hotel the night before the big game (not that that hurt them), the party was enclosed in just a tent. Unfortunately, the 52,000 square foot contraption is not available in the current REI catalog.

At the top of the party's roll call was Hugh Hefner and his Girls Next Door. Common hosted, and Nick Cannon was at the turntables. While I'm assuming Cannon can actually spin, it reminded me of some comments made by DJ AM the night before on Sirius Radio. He told the hosts of a Maxim show that a lot of "celebrity DJs" do a lame job, using CDs that were pre-made for the event and obviously not being at the tables when the songs change. It was a pop culture equivalent of Thomas Friedman calling out politicians for putting their names on books penned by ghost writers.

While there were plenty of painted-girls and scantily clad go-go dancers, the party certainly wasn't the orgiastic event that many might want to imagine. Similar to Maxim, a large number of attendees were executives and business people who seemed a little awkward next to the images that you typically see bombarding the airwaves. I'm guessing a lot of them were the true power players, who control the money and influence behind the scenes of the entertainment business. That, or they shelled out a lot of dough to an online ticket broker.

The big draw of the weekend turned out the be House of Hennessey, an after-hours party sponsored by the liquor company along with 944 and Tao. Hosted in a stunning mansion at the top of a hill overlooking Paradise Valley, it basically turned into a non-stop party central, where movers-and-shakers nursed hangovers poolside during the day and and endless flow of B-list celebs reveled until the sun started to rise again. Their Friday night (a/k/a Saturday morning) event seemed like the weekend's biggest success, and by the time Saturday (a/k/a Sunday morning) rolled around, police had to spend several hours clearing the streets leading up to the venue. Attendees were supposed to meet at a nearby church (ironic, no?) to take a shuttle, but once word got out many tried to drive up. A stretch Hummer was forced to back downhill over a quarter of a mile.

My time in the desert barely scratched the surface. For the most comprehensive review of all the week's parties, check out the recaps by Sports Illustrated's Arash Markazi.

AP photo by Evan Agostini