While Dr. Delighted is out on a drunken rampage, let's visit Mr. Moore, ultimate film picker. No, I am not referring to the inner nose film. I mean, I am going to literally be in charge of what movies get financed. From what I see in the 57 minutes of trailers before watching the fucker I PAID to see, the job really is not too difficult. It has to do with trends, it has to do with giving the public what Hollywood THINKS the public wants. Just this past weekend, I learned all I needed to learn.
Quality: Nobody cares
Oscar worthiness: Even Martians don't give 3 rats' ass hairs.
Fresh ideas: Pulllease!
Something New for Will Ferrell and John C. Reilley to screw around in: Dang boy, we're in!
A rehash of a classic tale bringing some of the original surviving actors in for at least 5 minutes of screen time: Oh yeah, bring on the bacon!
It is a pretty simple formula, really.
All right, ladies and gents, let's get-
Lady 1: Are you assuming our genders?!
Yes! Now, let's get down to brass tacks. Bob, you've had 7 minutes since I assigned you to come up with something.
Bob: Well, I was thinking of an epic retelling of Pinocchio.
Hmm...sounds promising.
Bob: Really?
Nah! Just pullin' your fake leg! When you use the word epic, it screams of over-budget and pampered actors.
Bob: Well, I also thought of Nicolas Cage in a remake of "Police Academy".
Aha! Now THAT's possible! Except leave out the actors. We'll go through 5 leads before one of them sinks to our level. Sally, you non-gender genius, you left a month ago to do some soul-searching. I take it from your early return that you either found your soul or left it at the TSA checkpoint. No matter, I want ideas!
Sally: This one is killer! It's about the rise of an a capella metal band called the Asthmatics. Their hook is that they all use their inhalers on stage.
Sally, that is one of the most idiotic ideas I have ever heard! It is so low, even ants would stomp on it! No actors in their right mind would even come near it! Do you get my point?
Sally: It'll be a hit?
You read me like an open cook book! Go for it! I know what I said about actors, but I predict Haley Joel Osment will want the part of the manager. Ken, talk to me!
Ken: Nothing solid, just another vehicle for Adam Sandler and Kevin James.
Go for it! Eva, make me happy and not like last night.
Eva: I can't believe what I'm hearing!
Oh don't be so damn sensitive, you seemed to have a good time!
Eva: I did! I meant, have you no standards?Why would you throw this crap into theatres?
Eva, Eva, Eva! You have to face it. The days of great directors making great productions are long over! John Huston, George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, Clint Eastwood is almost done...and the actors? Hell, I don't even know who acts anymore, and I don't care.
Eva: But there are so many great ideas out there! Think of Star Wars! Think of Gone With the Wind! Think of Gigli!
Umm, you almost had me feeling good until that last one, nice fake-out!
Eva: I meant Gigi
Whatever. Somebody DID think of Star Wars, someone DID think of Gone With the Wind...and good luck getting a movie-goer to sit still for 4 hours! And don't even start of the re-telling of history! We could have 10 flicks directed by Oprah about courageous escaped slaves and likely one would win an Oscar, but they do nothing for sales.
Eva: You're a whore!
Yes I am. I never denied it.
Eva: You're also hot!
And I think we're done for today. Upstairs!
So, I don't think I am the best person to decide which films get made. I don't think most people are, because there is no real vision anymore. There are no more film Everests to climb. We're even to the point where technology can create a character that looks real and is merely voiced by someone, not really in-person. It's frightening. It's terrifying! It's time for Dr. Delighted to return soon!
Tuesday, November 27, 2018
Sunday, November 18, 2018
Dr. Delighted On The Air!
It is Christmas season again. How can I tell? On the assigned Christmas music station in Vegas we have Delilah listening to tree sap spewing their emotional problems all over whoever is listening. Delilah then responds with (supposedly) sympathetic words while as far as we know she's doing a crossword puzzle or stabbing a voodoo doll. That is the wonder of radio still to this day. From the golden age of radio comedies, westerns, soap operas, and game shows, we never quite knew what the hell really went on in the studios. I have always suspected a great deal of Captain Morgan, a donkey, and tons of Cool Whip were involved, and you can do the math on your own!
I am through imagining, so let me welcome you to the Dr. Delighted Show! I am your congenital (er congenial) avuncular pal and host Dr. Delighted! We will have all sorts of sick twisted and depressing people call in with their problems and we couldn't be more delighted! Along the way I will select tunes which I believe are directed at you...er, designed to help you with your problem, or multitudes thereof!
Tonight's show is sponsored by Martinique Bay Everclear and Smith & Wesson.
Our first guest is an interracial paraplegic plumber from East Rutherford. Welcome to Dr. Delighted, what is your name?
(echoing)"Harvey (Harvey)"
What?
"Harvey, (Harvey,) dammit (dammit)!(!)"
Harvey, dammit, turn your radio off!
"Oh, sorry. Dr. Delighted, I have a huge problem."
And I am hugely delighted. What's cookin?
"My girlfriend of 5 years just ran off with my best friend of 25 years."
So that makes 30 total wasted years, got it.
"What?"
Nothing, just remembering a joke I heard yesterday. So how was it with your girlfriend recently?
"I don't understand."
Sure you do. Were you 2 at it good or were you 2 at it bad?
"Oh! Well, I guess it was ok..."
OK OK stop right there Harvey! You're already doubting things, which explains why she left.
"Huh?"
Huh right back at ya! You guess it was ok! That means you 2 got in a rut, or you weren't being the best sack buddy you could be, or both!
"Umm...maybe, but here's the thing-"
And let's talk about this so-called best friend! 25 years, eh? Yet he's willing to pork it over to her and throw it all away? You're some catch, I imagine!"
"Actually, my best friend is, er was a she."
AHA!
"Aha? You can help me?"
What? Oops, sorry, was testing my new mouthwash on the producer. However, Harvey, hell hath heaven's hordes in horrendous Hartford.
"Gotcha, gotcha. Was that Shakespeare?"
No, you dope, it was me proving I suck at alliteration. And what you suck at, my boy, is being pissed off.
"Well, I AM pissed!"
No, Harv, you're wondering how you can salvage both relationships. Buddy boy, you can't. There is no friend zone to be found here. You should be angry! You should get drunk! You should wake up tomorrow with some stranger wondering how your briefs became her bedside lampshade!
"Not a bad idea, thanks Dr. Delighted!"
You're welcome, my limp-limbed friend! And here is a tune to further make my point ("Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" plays)
(A commercial break, followed by the "Shaft" theme where the word Shaft is replaced by Delighted)
Welcome back to the Dr. Delighted Show! Up next, we have a former department store Santa's elf named Amber. Hi Amber!
(a low husky seductive voice) "Hi Doctor!"
Oh wow! Amber! Do you happen to work at Treasures in Las Vegas?
"Um, no, I'm in Salt Lake City."
Oh ok, just wondering. Then again, there's over ten dozen Ambers, Tiffanys, Jewels, and what have you in that place. So what's your trouble, Amber?
(sobs) "My boyfriend, (sniffs) my dear boyfriend is in the military, and he's been overseas for 6 months."
I see.
(seductive again)"Aren't you going to offer soothing words?"
Not yet. Keep going.
"Oh. Well, I miss him a lot, and this will be such a lonely Christmas."
Amber, or whatever your non-stage name is, get a puppy!
(sobbing again) "Dr. Delighted, I waited a long time to get on the air so I could talk to you, and this is all I get?"
Did you wait 6 months?
"No."
Did you wait 6 weeks? Days? Hours? My point is, I get that you're lonely, and being dedicated to your man is quite a noble thing. Let me ask you, what do you do while he is away?
"I work for a dentist while seeking another elf gig, and I hang with my girlfriends pretty often. That helps."
Ah! And what do you and your girlfriends do?
(giggling) "We get wasted a lot!"
Yeah? What do you drink?
"Cosmopolitans."
Sweet! Where do you go?
"Oh sometimes one of our houses or P.T.s"
Yeah! And who did you sleep with last night?
"A guy named Vince. He was...hey wait-"
I should have been a prosecutor! Amber, you're feeling guilty and wanted a sympathetic...or just pathetic...ear! You miss your man but you're not willing to miss HIS man til HE gets back.
(sobbing) "You don't understand! I NEEDED something so bad that my girls couldn't give me. "
Oh Amber, I do understand. And that's why I have this tune picked out for you. But before, that, stay on the phone Amber, I have a gift card for Salt Lake City's favorite dildo shop ready to send to you (plays "Barking Dogs Jingle Bells").
(a commercial break for the Adult Superstore and vasectomy.com) followed by the "Welcome Back" theme.
And we're back! Time for one more call....oh crap it's one of these little kids again. Oops, I said that out loud. Inside voice, outside voice, inside voice, outside voice. And you're on, little kid.
(little boy/girl) "Hi, Dr. Delightful!"
Hi!
"Hi!"
Hi. Kid, I can't get hammered til I'm done, can we get on with this?"
"Hi! I have a problem."
Yeah, it's called wasting minutes.
"No, that's not my problem. I'm boy, but my mommy and daddy dress me like the girls at school and give me dolls for my birthday and the Solstice."
I see. So tell me about daddy. What's he like?
"My daddy is a she."
No surprise. What bathroom do you use?
"The girl's room."
Like shooting fish in a barrel here.
"I'm not allowed to even talk about guns."
What's your name?
"Bubba."
And the pattern breaks! All right, Bubba, I'm gonna ask this as delicately as possible. You Mounds or Almond Joy in spirit?
"The second one."
Good. So there's not a whole lot you can do on the homefront besides moan and groan. They want to make you a girl and-
"Actually they said I'm neither, they said something...wait a minute I wrote it down...gender neutral."
Bubba, gender neutral really means you have neither girl nor boy characteristics. It's a fad, after thousands of years, people in the liberal zones are now thinking its bad to be labeled a boy or girl, even though it's been standard operating procedure for quite a bit.
"But what should I do?"
Nothing, at least not at home. You think of yourself as a boy or think of yourself as a girl?
"Um, I meant should I put a on purple shirt with a mauve skort?"
I have a song for this! (plays "Dude Looks Like a Lady")
(commercial break for Claire's and The Pro Gun Club)
And that's all the time we have left today! Remember, Dr. Delighted is always delighted to hear your problems and help you out, in ways you couldn't possibly imagine, or want! Good night, folks!
I am through imagining, so let me welcome you to the Dr. Delighted Show! I am your congenital (er congenial) avuncular pal and host Dr. Delighted! We will have all sorts of sick twisted and depressing people call in with their problems and we couldn't be more delighted! Along the way I will select tunes which I believe are directed at you...er, designed to help you with your problem, or multitudes thereof!
Tonight's show is sponsored by Martinique Bay Everclear and Smith & Wesson.
Our first guest is an interracial paraplegic plumber from East Rutherford. Welcome to Dr. Delighted, what is your name?
(echoing)"Harvey (Harvey)"
What?
"Harvey, (Harvey,) dammit (dammit)!(!)"
Harvey, dammit, turn your radio off!
"Oh, sorry. Dr. Delighted, I have a huge problem."
And I am hugely delighted. What's cookin?
"My girlfriend of 5 years just ran off with my best friend of 25 years."
So that makes 30 total wasted years, got it.
"What?"
Nothing, just remembering a joke I heard yesterday. So how was it with your girlfriend recently?
"I don't understand."
Sure you do. Were you 2 at it good or were you 2 at it bad?
"Oh! Well, I guess it was ok..."
OK OK stop right there Harvey! You're already doubting things, which explains why she left.
"Huh?"
Huh right back at ya! You guess it was ok! That means you 2 got in a rut, or you weren't being the best sack buddy you could be, or both!
"Umm...maybe, but here's the thing-"
And let's talk about this so-called best friend! 25 years, eh? Yet he's willing to pork it over to her and throw it all away? You're some catch, I imagine!"
"Actually, my best friend is, er was a she."
AHA!
"Aha? You can help me?"
What? Oops, sorry, was testing my new mouthwash on the producer. However, Harvey, hell hath heaven's hordes in horrendous Hartford.
"Gotcha, gotcha. Was that Shakespeare?"
No, you dope, it was me proving I suck at alliteration. And what you suck at, my boy, is being pissed off.
"Well, I AM pissed!"
No, Harv, you're wondering how you can salvage both relationships. Buddy boy, you can't. There is no friend zone to be found here. You should be angry! You should get drunk! You should wake up tomorrow with some stranger wondering how your briefs became her bedside lampshade!
"Not a bad idea, thanks Dr. Delighted!"
You're welcome, my limp-limbed friend! And here is a tune to further make my point ("Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" plays)
(A commercial break, followed by the "Shaft" theme where the word Shaft is replaced by Delighted)
Welcome back to the Dr. Delighted Show! Up next, we have a former department store Santa's elf named Amber. Hi Amber!
(a low husky seductive voice) "Hi Doctor!"
Oh wow! Amber! Do you happen to work at Treasures in Las Vegas?
"Um, no, I'm in Salt Lake City."
Oh ok, just wondering. Then again, there's over ten dozen Ambers, Tiffanys, Jewels, and what have you in that place. So what's your trouble, Amber?
(sobs) "My boyfriend, (sniffs) my dear boyfriend is in the military, and he's been overseas for 6 months."
I see.
(seductive again)"Aren't you going to offer soothing words?"
Not yet. Keep going.
"Oh. Well, I miss him a lot, and this will be such a lonely Christmas."
Amber, or whatever your non-stage name is, get a puppy!
(sobbing again) "Dr. Delighted, I waited a long time to get on the air so I could talk to you, and this is all I get?"
Did you wait 6 months?
"No."
Did you wait 6 weeks? Days? Hours? My point is, I get that you're lonely, and being dedicated to your man is quite a noble thing. Let me ask you, what do you do while he is away?
"I work for a dentist while seeking another elf gig, and I hang with my girlfriends pretty often. That helps."
Ah! And what do you and your girlfriends do?
(giggling) "We get wasted a lot!"
Yeah? What do you drink?
"Cosmopolitans."
Sweet! Where do you go?
"Oh sometimes one of our houses or P.T.s"
Yeah! And who did you sleep with last night?
"A guy named Vince. He was...hey wait-"
I should have been a prosecutor! Amber, you're feeling guilty and wanted a sympathetic...or just pathetic...ear! You miss your man but you're not willing to miss HIS man til HE gets back.
(sobbing) "You don't understand! I NEEDED something so bad that my girls couldn't give me. "
Oh Amber, I do understand. And that's why I have this tune picked out for you. But before, that, stay on the phone Amber, I have a gift card for Salt Lake City's favorite dildo shop ready to send to you (plays "Barking Dogs Jingle Bells").
(a commercial break for the Adult Superstore and vasectomy.com) followed by the "Welcome Back" theme.
And we're back! Time for one more call....oh crap it's one of these little kids again. Oops, I said that out loud. Inside voice, outside voice, inside voice, outside voice. And you're on, little kid.
(little boy/girl) "Hi, Dr. Delightful!"
Hi!
"Hi!"
Hi. Kid, I can't get hammered til I'm done, can we get on with this?"
"Hi! I have a problem."
Yeah, it's called wasting minutes.
"No, that's not my problem. I'm boy, but my mommy and daddy dress me like the girls at school and give me dolls for my birthday and the Solstice."
I see. So tell me about daddy. What's he like?
"My daddy is a she."
No surprise. What bathroom do you use?
"The girl's room."
Like shooting fish in a barrel here.
"I'm not allowed to even talk about guns."
What's your name?
"Bubba."
And the pattern breaks! All right, Bubba, I'm gonna ask this as delicately as possible. You Mounds or Almond Joy in spirit?
"The second one."
Good. So there's not a whole lot you can do on the homefront besides moan and groan. They want to make you a girl and-
"Actually they said I'm neither, they said something...wait a minute I wrote it down...gender neutral."
Bubba, gender neutral really means you have neither girl nor boy characteristics. It's a fad, after thousands of years, people in the liberal zones are now thinking its bad to be labeled a boy or girl, even though it's been standard operating procedure for quite a bit.
"But what should I do?"
Nothing, at least not at home. You think of yourself as a boy or think of yourself as a girl?
"Um, I meant should I put a on purple shirt with a mauve skort?"
I have a song for this! (plays "Dude Looks Like a Lady")
(commercial break for Claire's and The Pro Gun Club)
And that's all the time we have left today! Remember, Dr. Delighted is always delighted to hear your problems and help you out, in ways you couldn't possibly imagine, or want! Good night, folks!
Monday, November 12, 2018
Satan's Chefs
Welcome to tonight's episode of "Moore's Chefs From Hell" (I tried "New Zoo Revue", but there was an implied copyright lawsuit threat). We gathered 3 chefs from all walks of life along with 3 judges we literally kidnapped via a clever timeshare presentation gimmick: come to our presentation or we'll wire your TV to receive only Bea Arthur shows).
Please welcome our chefs: Dale, a busser at a Sizzler in Kingman, Arizona. Chet, a roach coach driver in Fresno. Finally, Charlene who makes the best shoo fly pie in her trailer park in Topeka.
Tonight's challenge: create an entree using the following ingredients: a half-eaten Twinkie thrown out by Keith Richards, Velveeta, Clamato, maggots from my back porch, Tab Cola, and day-old McNuggets.
Dale: I've been waiting to do this!
Chet: This will make a great burrito!
Charlene: Shit, I hate Tab!
Me: And, as an extra challenge, you'll be using cookware purchased at Dollar Tree and a kitchen from a studio apartment. You have 45 minutes and 18 1/2 seconds. Go!
While our chefs fumble about trying to remember how to turn on an oven, let us step back and take a look at cooking shows. In the good old days, we had one chef on TV, a large loving woman named Julia Child, who would make dishes with absolutely no problems and made housewives salivate with thoughts of murder when their crepes suzette morphed into green Ho Hos.
Then there were cook books by Betty Crocker that always left out something so obvious (to Betty anyway) that made the difference between meat loaf and KFC cole slaw. Of course, we cannot forget grandma's handwritten recipes for stuffing in their own form of cursive that only forensic experts can decipher! Yes, I LOVE old traditions!
However, in recent years there has been an influx of "celebrity chefs" who not only compete for prizes their egos don't really need, but also judge poor upcomer chefs on the littlest things, from underdone meat to overboiled orange Kool Aid. In other words, they make every day kitchen mishaps into major sins. The advent of the Food Network has made home cooking into something of a challenge for many Americans. We don't need this crap! Sub-par home cooking is the cornerstone of American society! When I invite someone over for dinner, it is just not right if they don't back up 10 feet before turning into an outright run to the Mexican border to avoid my baked chicken!
All right, back to the show.
Me: All right chefs, as an added challenge, you are required to add minty waxed dental floss into your entree.
Charlene: I do that all the time!
Chet: That usually holds my truck's engine together.
Dale: You're a dick!
Me: Just for that, you have 6 minutes left! REAL chefs can do this! All right, while they sweat over this, let me introduce our judges: my wife Vickie, William Shatner, and Joe Walsh. A quick look back at our chefs. Uh oh, Dale set the sink on fire...Charlene is being strangled by the Clamato bottle, and Chet's hand is melting after touching the Velveeta without gloves.
TIME'S UP EVERYONE! Chet, what did you make?
Chet: A peanut butter English muffin.
Me: Chefs?
Vickie: Well, I don't care about your plating because I just eat it, it's not a museum exhibit.
Shatner: I love how you mixed the Clamato with the Twinkie, though you should have KNOWN the VELVEETA would MELT your HAND!
Walsh: Hope your life's been good, because this shit ain't!
Me: Thank you! Charlene, what did you make?
Charlene: I made a chocolate ganash with a Tide Pod finish.
Me:Although this isn't a dessert round, we'll let it pass since all of these cooking shows have a ganash in there somewhere and it's fun to say. GANASH! Judges?
Vickie: The ganash is crap, but the Tide Pod bit is genius!
Shatner: (snoring)
Walsh: I agree, more people should make their own Tide Pods. It's economical and easy, eaten many myself.
Me: And finally Dale.
Dale: Well, having worked at Sizzler and stealing regularly from the salad bar, I made fried chicken wings.
Me: Ooh! I always wondered if there was any leftover Twinkie in those. Judges?
Vickie: Me too, but unfortunately my 9 year old could do better than this with peanuts and bread crumbs.
Shatner (mumbling about Takei)
Walsh: Man, you could open a wing joint with this! Awesome job!
Me: And there you have it, folks. You can gather whomever to cook and whomever to judge and in the end, it makes no difference. TV food is a fantasy never to be attained, while real food is a nightmare we are all used to, why change it? Good night everybody!
Please welcome our chefs: Dale, a busser at a Sizzler in Kingman, Arizona. Chet, a roach coach driver in Fresno. Finally, Charlene who makes the best shoo fly pie in her trailer park in Topeka.
Tonight's challenge: create an entree using the following ingredients: a half-eaten Twinkie thrown out by Keith Richards, Velveeta, Clamato, maggots from my back porch, Tab Cola, and day-old McNuggets.
Dale: I've been waiting to do this!
Chet: This will make a great burrito!
Charlene: Shit, I hate Tab!
Me: And, as an extra challenge, you'll be using cookware purchased at Dollar Tree and a kitchen from a studio apartment. You have 45 minutes and 18 1/2 seconds. Go!
While our chefs fumble about trying to remember how to turn on an oven, let us step back and take a look at cooking shows. In the good old days, we had one chef on TV, a large loving woman named Julia Child, who would make dishes with absolutely no problems and made housewives salivate with thoughts of murder when their crepes suzette morphed into green Ho Hos.
Then there were cook books by Betty Crocker that always left out something so obvious (to Betty anyway) that made the difference between meat loaf and KFC cole slaw. Of course, we cannot forget grandma's handwritten recipes for stuffing in their own form of cursive that only forensic experts can decipher! Yes, I LOVE old traditions!
However, in recent years there has been an influx of "celebrity chefs" who not only compete for prizes their egos don't really need, but also judge poor upcomer chefs on the littlest things, from underdone meat to overboiled orange Kool Aid. In other words, they make every day kitchen mishaps into major sins. The advent of the Food Network has made home cooking into something of a challenge for many Americans. We don't need this crap! Sub-par home cooking is the cornerstone of American society! When I invite someone over for dinner, it is just not right if they don't back up 10 feet before turning into an outright run to the Mexican border to avoid my baked chicken!
All right, back to the show.
Me: All right chefs, as an added challenge, you are required to add minty waxed dental floss into your entree.
Charlene: I do that all the time!
Chet: That usually holds my truck's engine together.
Dale: You're a dick!
Me: Just for that, you have 6 minutes left! REAL chefs can do this! All right, while they sweat over this, let me introduce our judges: my wife Vickie, William Shatner, and Joe Walsh. A quick look back at our chefs. Uh oh, Dale set the sink on fire...Charlene is being strangled by the Clamato bottle, and Chet's hand is melting after touching the Velveeta without gloves.
TIME'S UP EVERYONE! Chet, what did you make?
Chet: A peanut butter English muffin.
Me: Chefs?
Vickie: Well, I don't care about your plating because I just eat it, it's not a museum exhibit.
Shatner: I love how you mixed the Clamato with the Twinkie, though you should have KNOWN the VELVEETA would MELT your HAND!
Walsh: Hope your life's been good, because this shit ain't!
Me: Thank you! Charlene, what did you make?
Charlene: I made a chocolate ganash with a Tide Pod finish.
Me:Although this isn't a dessert round, we'll let it pass since all of these cooking shows have a ganash in there somewhere and it's fun to say. GANASH! Judges?
Vickie: The ganash is crap, but the Tide Pod bit is genius!
Shatner: (snoring)
Walsh: I agree, more people should make their own Tide Pods. It's economical and easy, eaten many myself.
Me: And finally Dale.
Dale: Well, having worked at Sizzler and stealing regularly from the salad bar, I made fried chicken wings.
Me: Ooh! I always wondered if there was any leftover Twinkie in those. Judges?
Vickie: Me too, but unfortunately my 9 year old could do better than this with peanuts and bread crumbs.
Shatner (mumbling about Takei)
Walsh: Man, you could open a wing joint with this! Awesome job!
Me: And there you have it, folks. You can gather whomever to cook and whomever to judge and in the end, it makes no difference. TV food is a fantasy never to be attained, while real food is a nightmare we are all used to, why change it? Good night everybody!
Sunday, October 28, 2018
The Cleavers Can Bite Me!
Recently, our family celebrated a major celebration, a dream come true. I know some look at it as a whatever, but we are truly feeling blessed. When you hit this point in life, you know you've made it. Indeed, you guessed it, we get to pay monthly HOA dues now!
Well, that's not exactly what we're celebrating, just a by-product a la rat shit in hot dogs. No, we bought a house! At last we can pay for our own damn repairs instead of calling the landlord and hiding our cats so we don't get kicked out. At last we can pay for water, garbage, and sewage services! Heaven knows that is a dream come true!
And do not get me wrong, I am glad to be rid of apartment living! I lived in apartments for 16 long years in Las Vegas. For 4 years, I lived next to Nellis Air Force Base where I got a free air show every weekend whether I wanted one or not. That was essentially my "bachelor pad". After I met Vickie, we moved into an apartment together much farther west. That was actually my favorite place. There was plenty of room, we decorated it to make it our home, there were plenty of stores and eateries close to us, and, most importantly, it was where we brought Natalie home after she was born. Over time, the complex was becoming more Section 8 and some nasty elements moved in.
In August of 2010, we learned the landlord had been foreclosed on and we were forced to move. We probably could have taken a bit more time to look but in our stress we picked a place that was in a better neighborhood farther west but had far less space. I was also in a new school that year and that wasn't going well. If our marriage ever had a low point, that year was it. Luckily, we let the lease have its year and then we moved even farther west, almost running smack into the Spring Mountains. This apartment would be our home for almost 7 whole years. It was where Natalie would grow from a toddler into a Kindergartener and then into a 4th grader. That kind of time is priceless! I was also in a new school when we moved there so October 2011 was a definite fresh start for us.
In April of this year, I calculated that I had paid landlords about $150,000 in rent over 16 years and felt that was a little much to not be allowed to have pets. So, we hooked up (not LITERALLY you pervs!) with our real estate agent friend and a loan officer and got hold of a loan along with a house itself, and moved in during Labor Day weekend.
Now I know that just sounds like a great Hallmark movie tear-jerkoff that producers are salivating over, casting Candace Cameron Bure (or Creme Brulee) as Vickie, William Shatner as me, and the dead blonde girl from Poltergeist as Natalie, but there are some drawbacks to owning a house! For one thing, you pay something called a mortgage, which turns out to be almost double the apartment rent, making Top Ramen look like gourmet cooking for us! Ha, just kidding, but it does limit the eating out we do.
Another drawback has to be described. If you have ever seen the 1985 Oscar-winning tragedy "The Money Pit", you remember that Tom Hanks and Shelley Long played an annoying couple who buy a seemingly great house only to discover the owner who sold them the house was Herb Tarlek from WKRP and the house was indeed far less liveable than a Motel 6 shower.
Well, that does exaggerate our home's crisis, but I will say that the home was certainly dirtier and dingier once we got the keys. I have never seen windows and window tracks provide shelter to dust bunnies...no, not bunnies, ELEPHANTS! And mind you, this is not my first house-moving rodeo. My mom always came into the house and gave at least the kitchen a good wiping and dusting before moving day. Of course, 2 of our homes were brand-new when we moved in so she really only had to clean up a few times. She would have fainted with this one.
If you are familiar at all with the classic show "Leave It To Beaver", where the Beav uttered "Gee, Wally" about 200 times when he didn't grasp life's realities, you might remember that the Cleavers moved into a new house between seasons 2 and 3. We saw the Cleavers getting ready to move in one episode, and fully settled in home 2 by the next episode.
All I can say to this neat transition is, WHAT THE HELL!!! Why couldn't they show the realities? I would have loved a scene like this before the move.
June: Ward, when you're through being tough on the Beaver, could you please help me pack the kitchen dishes?
Ward: Damnit, June! I worked a full day today. Hell, lunch with Fred Rutherford is an eternity as it is! I want to sit down, smoke a pipe, and beat the crap out of the boys for something
June: Well excuse me, Mr. Whatever the Hell You Do During the Day! I've been in my damn pearls and dress because you won't let me wear anything else, and packing up all of our china. The least you can do is wrap a few things and put them in a box. 1 DAMN BOX, WARD! That's all I ask!
Ward: Well, what have you been doing all damn day besides watching your soap operas? And what's for dinner? I'm hungry!
June: You did NOT just go there, did you? You did! Get your ass in here and pack a box, NOW! If you don't you won't be getting any other boxes soon if you get my drift!
Ah if only they talked like that on TV in 1959! But wait, what about move-in? Would Ward be a good lad and help June get things put away or would he leave her to do it while he did 7 martini lunches?
Ward: Hi June!
June: Don't hi June me! Where are the cloth napkins?
Ward: In my desk drawer, hang on.
June: I already looked there! Right next to that stag reel Fred lent to you!
Ward (angry): Woman, you went into my study without my permission?!
June: Yes, and I also saw the Playboy in the "secret' drawer.
But no, the Cleavers were too nice and clean for real talk...oh well. Gotta go, time for a Cleaver-style dinner in our new dining room...minus the pearls and 3 piece suit!
Well, that's not exactly what we're celebrating, just a by-product a la rat shit in hot dogs. No, we bought a house! At last we can pay for our own damn repairs instead of calling the landlord and hiding our cats so we don't get kicked out. At last we can pay for water, garbage, and sewage services! Heaven knows that is a dream come true!
And do not get me wrong, I am glad to be rid of apartment living! I lived in apartments for 16 long years in Las Vegas. For 4 years, I lived next to Nellis Air Force Base where I got a free air show every weekend whether I wanted one or not. That was essentially my "bachelor pad". After I met Vickie, we moved into an apartment together much farther west. That was actually my favorite place. There was plenty of room, we decorated it to make it our home, there were plenty of stores and eateries close to us, and, most importantly, it was where we brought Natalie home after she was born. Over time, the complex was becoming more Section 8 and some nasty elements moved in.
In August of 2010, we learned the landlord had been foreclosed on and we were forced to move. We probably could have taken a bit more time to look but in our stress we picked a place that was in a better neighborhood farther west but had far less space. I was also in a new school that year and that wasn't going well. If our marriage ever had a low point, that year was it. Luckily, we let the lease have its year and then we moved even farther west, almost running smack into the Spring Mountains. This apartment would be our home for almost 7 whole years. It was where Natalie would grow from a toddler into a Kindergartener and then into a 4th grader. That kind of time is priceless! I was also in a new school when we moved there so October 2011 was a definite fresh start for us.
In April of this year, I calculated that I had paid landlords about $150,000 in rent over 16 years and felt that was a little much to not be allowed to have pets. So, we hooked up (not LITERALLY you pervs!) with our real estate agent friend and a loan officer and got hold of a loan along with a house itself, and moved in during Labor Day weekend.
Now I know that just sounds like a great Hallmark movie tear-jerkoff that producers are salivating over, casting Candace Cameron Bure (or Creme Brulee) as Vickie, William Shatner as me, and the dead blonde girl from Poltergeist as Natalie, but there are some drawbacks to owning a house! For one thing, you pay something called a mortgage, which turns out to be almost double the apartment rent, making Top Ramen look like gourmet cooking for us! Ha, just kidding, but it does limit the eating out we do.
Another drawback has to be described. If you have ever seen the 1985 Oscar-winning tragedy "The Money Pit", you remember that Tom Hanks and Shelley Long played an annoying couple who buy a seemingly great house only to discover the owner who sold them the house was Herb Tarlek from WKRP and the house was indeed far less liveable than a Motel 6 shower.
Well, that does exaggerate our home's crisis, but I will say that the home was certainly dirtier and dingier once we got the keys. I have never seen windows and window tracks provide shelter to dust bunnies...no, not bunnies, ELEPHANTS! And mind you, this is not my first house-moving rodeo. My mom always came into the house and gave at least the kitchen a good wiping and dusting before moving day. Of course, 2 of our homes were brand-new when we moved in so she really only had to clean up a few times. She would have fainted with this one.
If you are familiar at all with the classic show "Leave It To Beaver", where the Beav uttered "Gee, Wally" about 200 times when he didn't grasp life's realities, you might remember that the Cleavers moved into a new house between seasons 2 and 3. We saw the Cleavers getting ready to move in one episode, and fully settled in home 2 by the next episode.
All I can say to this neat transition is, WHAT THE HELL!!! Why couldn't they show the realities? I would have loved a scene like this before the move.
June: Ward, when you're through being tough on the Beaver, could you please help me pack the kitchen dishes?
Ward: Damnit, June! I worked a full day today. Hell, lunch with Fred Rutherford is an eternity as it is! I want to sit down, smoke a pipe, and beat the crap out of the boys for something
June: Well excuse me, Mr. Whatever the Hell You Do During the Day! I've been in my damn pearls and dress because you won't let me wear anything else, and packing up all of our china. The least you can do is wrap a few things and put them in a box. 1 DAMN BOX, WARD! That's all I ask!
Ward: Well, what have you been doing all damn day besides watching your soap operas? And what's for dinner? I'm hungry!
June: You did NOT just go there, did you? You did! Get your ass in here and pack a box, NOW! If you don't you won't be getting any other boxes soon if you get my drift!
Ah if only they talked like that on TV in 1959! But wait, what about move-in? Would Ward be a good lad and help June get things put away or would he leave her to do it while he did 7 martini lunches?
Ward: Hi June!
June: Don't hi June me! Where are the cloth napkins?
Ward: In my desk drawer, hang on.
June: I already looked there! Right next to that stag reel Fred lent to you!
Ward (angry): Woman, you went into my study without my permission?!
June: Yes, and I also saw the Playboy in the "secret' drawer.
But no, the Cleavers were too nice and clean for real talk...oh well. Gotta go, time for a Cleaver-style dinner in our new dining room...minus the pearls and 3 piece suit!
Thursday, August 2, 2018
The Incredible Snowflake.
McDonald's associate Clarence Peters, searching for a way to salt the fries in peace before he's asked to clean the dining area, when a sudden splash from the mop bucket into the fry grease creates an explosion that alters Clarence's body chemistry. Now, whenever he experiences stress or angst at home or school or work, a startling metamorphosis (CHANGE for the millenials) occurs. The creature is driven by neurosis and starts whining and crying like the world's biggest wuss. He is pursued by nobody...seriously, who wants be around that shit? THE INCREDIBLE SNOWFLAKE!
Earlier this summer I was reunited with an old buddy from Pennsylvania. We had a great time talking about the past and old friends, but what really struck me was how much I've changed in 20 odd years, and not all for the better. There's a toughness that is hard to describe in people from PA, Jersey, and New York. I think Bostonians have it as well. It doesn't mean looking for a fight necessarily, it doesn't even mean not giving a shit. It just comes down to not advertising your problems and making a victim and martyr of yourself.
I was not the toughest guy by far, but I didn't do therapy or cry on my parents' shoulders all the time. Most of the time I internalized it all. Not that it was the healthiest option, I just had no decent outlet. Living out west all my adult life, I've found myself among many people who whine and make their problems known and prioritized above others. It's catching when you don't have a few people to counterbalance that, and I am afraid that I have transformed into what I call a snowflake as well. I am working to reverse it.
The problem is relatively simple to fix, you might just need to slap yourself a few times before going down the checklist.
1. I fucked up. Will I
a) admit it and fix it
b) stress, overeat, and lash out at the family for no real reason while the problem remains unsolved
2. Someone cut in front of me in traffic. Will I
a) cuss and let it be
b) stress, fume, and curse myself for being victimized....maybe call the police to find this dastardly criminal
3. The landlord raises the rent by $200. Will I
a) curse the landlord and his dogs, then economize on extras to make it work
b) stress, fume, and bemoan my never getting a raise
4. I get pulled over by a cop for speeding. Will I
a) follow the guy's directions and say yes sir or ma'am and cooperate
b) act all nervous so that I'm tased?
The a answers are to strive for. The b answers are self-damaging. I've done the b choices with no satisfaction, particularly on #1.
I am changing grades this year. Among that, our numbers are low and we are losing up to 7 or 8 staff members. Here's the thing. Do I go in there and do my job to the best of my ability or do I get anxious and await the next shoe to drop? The second option is no way to live.
There is another aspect to being a snowflake, or at least a different classification: shouting FOUL at every little thing that happens to you or your family, threatening to sue, whatever...basically deflecting all responsibility. I'm not saying to not take action if there was serious injury or true injustice. I'm talking about petty crap.
Here's a perfect example. Last year, my daughter got in trouble for kicking another student via peer pressure. She got suspended for the day and lost field trip privileges. Once again, this was choice time. Did I
a) tell her she's lucky to get off that easy and take her punishment
b) raise a stink that it was unfair and she promises never to do it again
I did the a choice. She knew it was wrong and she won't learn if I bail her out.
OK, public service announcement over, back to Clarence!
Pilot: After the soap/grease injury, Clarence is in class, trying to take notes while Bill Morgan is teaching foreign relations. The head of the water polo team starts flicking the back of Clarence's head. Clarence turns and says loudly but lamely, "Stop it!" The asshole behind him doesn't stop and the flicking gets worse.
The guy next to Clarence whispers, "Just pop him one!" Clarence shakes his head in stress, just wishing the guy would stop. As Bill Morgan prattles on about folkways and customs and mores in Canada, Clarence's skin starts turning a pinkish teal (imagine THAT one in makeup!) and actually gets skinnier.
He stands up and shouts, "Mr. Morgan, Biff (every show needs a Biff) won't stop bothering me! I'm trying to concentrate but he won't stop!"
Morgan tries to stifle a smile...actually he always looks like he's stifling humor...and says, "Okay. Biff, knock it off."
Biff nods, smiles, shakes his head at the wimp in front of him, and resolves to give Clarence a swirlie in the toilet later. But Clarence keeps shaking and crying and complaining about the unfairness of life, even throwing in his attorney father in a possible lawsuit. Morgan shrugs, asks if Clarence needs to visit the counselor, gets no response, then moves on to Mongolian folkways before the bell rings.
In the hall, Clarence turns back to normal. Biff passes him and whispers, "You're dead meat!' Clarence just keeps to himself on the way to study hall, depressing piano music playing as the camera pans out.
OK OK, I know what you're all thinking. And no, Clarence is not me 30 years ago. I was a tad wittier and rolling with it better than that! As for the show, I cannot see it lasting more than 7 episodes. However, the last episode should resolve Clarence's affliction via coaching and tough support and perhaps removing a giant arachnid from his ass surgically.
In short, if we are to survive as a nation, in our family lives, our jobs, all of it, we need to toughen up and stop the whining and martyrdom and blaming others for your problems. And stay out of the fry grease!
Earlier this summer I was reunited with an old buddy from Pennsylvania. We had a great time talking about the past and old friends, but what really struck me was how much I've changed in 20 odd years, and not all for the better. There's a toughness that is hard to describe in people from PA, Jersey, and New York. I think Bostonians have it as well. It doesn't mean looking for a fight necessarily, it doesn't even mean not giving a shit. It just comes down to not advertising your problems and making a victim and martyr of yourself.
I was not the toughest guy by far, but I didn't do therapy or cry on my parents' shoulders all the time. Most of the time I internalized it all. Not that it was the healthiest option, I just had no decent outlet. Living out west all my adult life, I've found myself among many people who whine and make their problems known and prioritized above others. It's catching when you don't have a few people to counterbalance that, and I am afraid that I have transformed into what I call a snowflake as well. I am working to reverse it.
The problem is relatively simple to fix, you might just need to slap yourself a few times before going down the checklist.
1. I fucked up. Will I
a) admit it and fix it
b) stress, overeat, and lash out at the family for no real reason while the problem remains unsolved
2. Someone cut in front of me in traffic. Will I
a) cuss and let it be
b) stress, fume, and curse myself for being victimized....maybe call the police to find this dastardly criminal
3. The landlord raises the rent by $200. Will I
a) curse the landlord and his dogs, then economize on extras to make it work
b) stress, fume, and bemoan my never getting a raise
4. I get pulled over by a cop for speeding. Will I
a) follow the guy's directions and say yes sir or ma'am and cooperate
b) act all nervous so that I'm tased?
The a answers are to strive for. The b answers are self-damaging. I've done the b choices with no satisfaction, particularly on #1.
I am changing grades this year. Among that, our numbers are low and we are losing up to 7 or 8 staff members. Here's the thing. Do I go in there and do my job to the best of my ability or do I get anxious and await the next shoe to drop? The second option is no way to live.
There is another aspect to being a snowflake, or at least a different classification: shouting FOUL at every little thing that happens to you or your family, threatening to sue, whatever...basically deflecting all responsibility. I'm not saying to not take action if there was serious injury or true injustice. I'm talking about petty crap.
Here's a perfect example. Last year, my daughter got in trouble for kicking another student via peer pressure. She got suspended for the day and lost field trip privileges. Once again, this was choice time. Did I
a) tell her she's lucky to get off that easy and take her punishment
b) raise a stink that it was unfair and she promises never to do it again
I did the a choice. She knew it was wrong and she won't learn if I bail her out.
OK, public service announcement over, back to Clarence!
Pilot: After the soap/grease injury, Clarence is in class, trying to take notes while Bill Morgan is teaching foreign relations. The head of the water polo team starts flicking the back of Clarence's head. Clarence turns and says loudly but lamely, "Stop it!" The asshole behind him doesn't stop and the flicking gets worse.
The guy next to Clarence whispers, "Just pop him one!" Clarence shakes his head in stress, just wishing the guy would stop. As Bill Morgan prattles on about folkways and customs and mores in Canada, Clarence's skin starts turning a pinkish teal (imagine THAT one in makeup!) and actually gets skinnier.
He stands up and shouts, "Mr. Morgan, Biff (every show needs a Biff) won't stop bothering me! I'm trying to concentrate but he won't stop!"
Morgan tries to stifle a smile...actually he always looks like he's stifling humor...and says, "Okay. Biff, knock it off."
Biff nods, smiles, shakes his head at the wimp in front of him, and resolves to give Clarence a swirlie in the toilet later. But Clarence keeps shaking and crying and complaining about the unfairness of life, even throwing in his attorney father in a possible lawsuit. Morgan shrugs, asks if Clarence needs to visit the counselor, gets no response, then moves on to Mongolian folkways before the bell rings.
In the hall, Clarence turns back to normal. Biff passes him and whispers, "You're dead meat!' Clarence just keeps to himself on the way to study hall, depressing piano music playing as the camera pans out.
OK OK, I know what you're all thinking. And no, Clarence is not me 30 years ago. I was a tad wittier and rolling with it better than that! As for the show, I cannot see it lasting more than 7 episodes. However, the last episode should resolve Clarence's affliction via coaching and tough support and perhaps removing a giant arachnid from his ass surgically.
In short, if we are to survive as a nation, in our family lives, our jobs, all of it, we need to toughen up and stop the whining and martyrdom and blaming others for your problems. And stay out of the fry grease!
Thursday, July 5, 2018
A Christmas To Puke For
Hooray, it is July! And we all know what that means, right? Oh no, I don't mean that middle of summer outdoor activity crap. Who needs barbecues, pools, road trips, and bike rides when you can sit and watch Hallmark's Christmas in July run of holiday sap so thick you need a direct insulin injection before the first ad break?
Well, as my wife loves these flicks, you know who is subjected to them as well! My blood sugar levels are way out of control as of now, I almost took a Metformin tablet as a last resort before I fell into a diabetic coma!
On the other hand, it seems to me that these movies are fairly quickly cranked out. The basic formula is always there: disgruntlement, lost love, tragedy, a touch of magic, a happy ending, and an endless supply of ex soap stars and unheard-of-in-America Canadian actors. Occasionally they toss in a really old face that only people born before 1980 would recognize, just to test us.
Coming soon: Bryan Moore's entry that Hallmark will have no choice but to rush into production, especially since I'm holding the sap department's firstborn hostage. This is a sure-win!
Act 1: In the town of Darl, located in some snowy yet unnamed state in order to hide its obvious Canadian locale, everybody is just miserable. The mayor, played by William Shatner, is missing a piece to his jigsaw puzzle, and is making his whole staff search for it. His assistant's assistant Heather (mystery Canadian 1), is so full of problems that I pondered making this a mini-series! She doesn't know her mom, her 3 kids are nice but pretty uninteresting so far, and she let her college sweetheart Steve go decades earlier due to mistaking his cold sore for full-fledged herpes! On top of that, her "uncle" (Martin Short) is the eccentric owner of Darl's Chickens, the local diner. For some reason, the diner is about to be shut down by mega-poultry king Bluto's.
Act 2: The mayor's office is all scurrying to find the puzzle piece as the whole town just descends into a general hell. Steve, the handsome hatchet man for Bluto's (ex soap star 1), arrives in town and literally bumps into Heather on the sidewalk. Heather, thinking she has now gotten herpes, blasts Steve verbally in front of the entire town. At home, her 3 boring brats climb all over her as she ponders if she was too hard on Steve as well as worrying about her "uncle" and the diner closure. Insulin injection 1 should be about now.
Act 3: The mayor threatens to fire the whole staff if the piece is not found by the week's end. Heather's direct boss (bland blond middle-aged Canadian actor 1) scolds her for not finding it herself. She threatens to quit, but the mayor admires her spunk and makes her his personal puzzle assistant. She runs into Steve at Darl's Chickens and reluctantly agrees to sit with him for a chicken lunch. He tries to educate her on herpes 1 being a lot different than herpes 2, but as she opted out of high school health class, she is pretty clueless. Her "uncle" cheerfully dismisses the idea that he's about to lose his business after Steve boasts that he will succeed, after which 5 cold sores mysteriously appear around Steve's mouth. Heather giggles as we fade to ad.
Act 4: Convinced Steve needs help, Bluto (played by Falconetti himself, William Smith), arrives in town to physically and mentally overpower the "uncle". However, he finds that he is out of his league, so he decides to create a hysteria of rabbititis infesting the chickens. Before she can worry about that, Heather finds herself walking along the edge of some pond lamenting to nobody in particular about her lame kids and lacking love life. Steve watches creepily from the bushes, scratching at his cold sores as he realizes what an ass he's been. Insulin shot 2 here.
Act 5: Darl's Chickens is officially closed pending a health department investigation. Steve protests to Bluto, who doesn't give a crap about protests. The mayor makes a personal plea to Bluto to back off, but Bluto, having heard about the puzzle piece, threatens to burn it unless he gets his way. The "uncle" merely smiles in his creepy way the whole time. Steve apologizes for his actions and attitude to him, and the cold sores quickly disappear. The next morning, Steve stands up to his boss and reveals the false rabbititis ploy to the health department. Steve is fired and punched just for being a sap, but the mayor hires him on the spot. All looks like it will be happy until one of Heather's unnamed twerps disapepars.
Act 6: The whole damn town looks for the nameless dweeb in vain. Thankfully, Steve's blind 3-legged dog Lucky finds the kid in a well and carries the gender nonspecific child (for all you PC snowflakes out there!) to safety. One of the other kids, hanging in the mayor's office for no reason, finds the missing piece on the floor. Steve and Heather get engaged, provided they don't kiss on the mouth ever. The creepy "uncle" then reveals that he's really Heather's mom and magically transforms from Martin Short into Meredith Baxter, giving some outlandish excuse and sob story that nobody outside of Hallmark would buy into. Bluto decides he can compete with Darl's Chickens on his own without dirty tricks. Suddenly, the town Christmas tree lights up, reminding us that it is a CHRISTMAS movie! The geek threesome suddenly find mysterious gifts under a mysterious tree that wasn't there in act 2, everyone laughs one of those freeze-frame CHiPS laughs that no audience ever bought, and it is a wrap!
I think this movie will be a smash...as in people will smash their TV screens after just 1 viewing.
Well, as my wife loves these flicks, you know who is subjected to them as well! My blood sugar levels are way out of control as of now, I almost took a Metformin tablet as a last resort before I fell into a diabetic coma!
On the other hand, it seems to me that these movies are fairly quickly cranked out. The basic formula is always there: disgruntlement, lost love, tragedy, a touch of magic, a happy ending, and an endless supply of ex soap stars and unheard-of-in-America Canadian actors. Occasionally they toss in a really old face that only people born before 1980 would recognize, just to test us.
Coming soon: Bryan Moore's entry that Hallmark will have no choice but to rush into production, especially since I'm holding the sap department's firstborn hostage. This is a sure-win!
Act 1: In the town of Darl, located in some snowy yet unnamed state in order to hide its obvious Canadian locale, everybody is just miserable. The mayor, played by William Shatner, is missing a piece to his jigsaw puzzle, and is making his whole staff search for it. His assistant's assistant Heather (mystery Canadian 1), is so full of problems that I pondered making this a mini-series! She doesn't know her mom, her 3 kids are nice but pretty uninteresting so far, and she let her college sweetheart Steve go decades earlier due to mistaking his cold sore for full-fledged herpes! On top of that, her "uncle" (Martin Short) is the eccentric owner of Darl's Chickens, the local diner. For some reason, the diner is about to be shut down by mega-poultry king Bluto's.
Act 2: The mayor's office is all scurrying to find the puzzle piece as the whole town just descends into a general hell. Steve, the handsome hatchet man for Bluto's (ex soap star 1), arrives in town and literally bumps into Heather on the sidewalk. Heather, thinking she has now gotten herpes, blasts Steve verbally in front of the entire town. At home, her 3 boring brats climb all over her as she ponders if she was too hard on Steve as well as worrying about her "uncle" and the diner closure. Insulin injection 1 should be about now.
Act 3: The mayor threatens to fire the whole staff if the piece is not found by the week's end. Heather's direct boss (bland blond middle-aged Canadian actor 1) scolds her for not finding it herself. She threatens to quit, but the mayor admires her spunk and makes her his personal puzzle assistant. She runs into Steve at Darl's Chickens and reluctantly agrees to sit with him for a chicken lunch. He tries to educate her on herpes 1 being a lot different than herpes 2, but as she opted out of high school health class, she is pretty clueless. Her "uncle" cheerfully dismisses the idea that he's about to lose his business after Steve boasts that he will succeed, after which 5 cold sores mysteriously appear around Steve's mouth. Heather giggles as we fade to ad.
Act 4: Convinced Steve needs help, Bluto (played by Falconetti himself, William Smith), arrives in town to physically and mentally overpower the "uncle". However, he finds that he is out of his league, so he decides to create a hysteria of rabbititis infesting the chickens. Before she can worry about that, Heather finds herself walking along the edge of some pond lamenting to nobody in particular about her lame kids and lacking love life. Steve watches creepily from the bushes, scratching at his cold sores as he realizes what an ass he's been. Insulin shot 2 here.
Act 5: Darl's Chickens is officially closed pending a health department investigation. Steve protests to Bluto, who doesn't give a crap about protests. The mayor makes a personal plea to Bluto to back off, but Bluto, having heard about the puzzle piece, threatens to burn it unless he gets his way. The "uncle" merely smiles in his creepy way the whole time. Steve apologizes for his actions and attitude to him, and the cold sores quickly disappear. The next morning, Steve stands up to his boss and reveals the false rabbititis ploy to the health department. Steve is fired and punched just for being a sap, but the mayor hires him on the spot. All looks like it will be happy until one of Heather's unnamed twerps disapepars.
Act 6: The whole damn town looks for the nameless dweeb in vain. Thankfully, Steve's blind 3-legged dog Lucky finds the kid in a well and carries the gender nonspecific child (for all you PC snowflakes out there!) to safety. One of the other kids, hanging in the mayor's office for no reason, finds the missing piece on the floor. Steve and Heather get engaged, provided they don't kiss on the mouth ever. The creepy "uncle" then reveals that he's really Heather's mom and magically transforms from Martin Short into Meredith Baxter, giving some outlandish excuse and sob story that nobody outside of Hallmark would buy into. Bluto decides he can compete with Darl's Chickens on his own without dirty tricks. Suddenly, the town Christmas tree lights up, reminding us that it is a CHRISTMAS movie! The geek threesome suddenly find mysterious gifts under a mysterious tree that wasn't there in act 2, everyone laughs one of those freeze-frame CHiPS laughs that no audience ever bought, and it is a wrap!
I think this movie will be a smash...as in people will smash their TV screens after just 1 viewing.
Sunday, June 17, 2018
Test Patterns, Take Me Away!
As I sit in my computer chair trying to come up with some clever bullshit to fill a few paragraphs so that my head's trash can gets emptied on time, I think back to the days, rather nights, when I would stay up late. The last program on a certain channel was over, the National Anthem would play, then the station would either go to static snow or to a test pattern with an EBS test-like beep.
No longer. I mean, I am still thinking of those days fondly, but they are no longer here. The programmers of stations both local and cable decided that money was being wasted during those non-programmed hours, much like Federal money is wasted regulating the hole circumference in Swiss cheese. No, instead of glorious white noise, we have what is known as "paid programming".
We all know, of course, that ALL programming pays or gets paid in one way or another. The normal term for this money-making gimmick is infomercials, a disgusting amalgamation mixing information and commercials. On any given night, I can flip through a few channels and find an infomercial lasting 30 minutes telling me the advantage of buying a 40-CD set of songs "digitally remastered" that I already own apparently unmastered. I can also find infomercials trying to sell to me, for a ransom of $29.95 per minute, kitchen appliances I will never find a use for.
Well, by golly, if it's that easy, then Mr. Moore has a few infomercials guaranteed to not only make the station money, but also maybe replace the sun visor on the passenger side of my car, it's a win-win deal!
1. TIRED OF YOUR COLLECTION OF GOOD MUSIC? WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO HEAR SOME USELESS CRAP FOR A CHANGE? HOLD ON TO YOUR PLASTIC SOFA COVERS EVERYONE! COMING TO YOU FROM LIMETIFE RECORDS IS THE LONG AWAITED RELEASE OF THE MOST CURIOUS AND UNWELCOME PAIRING OF MEDIOCRITY EVER TO HIT THE HIGHEST FREQUENCY ON THE AM DIAL. IT'S RICK ASTLEY AND SHA NA NA TOGETHER, WHY, WE HAVE NO DAMN CLUE! YES IT'S RICK ASTLEY,, THE ARTIST WHOSE ASS WAS CREAMED BY BANANARAMA ON A WEEKLY BASIS, BELTING OUT HITS WITH SHA NA NA, THE GROUP WHO SOMEHOW CAPITALIZED ON AN APPEARANCE IN GREASE WITH A 4-YEAR SYNDICATED PROGRAM NEVER AIRED AGAIN AFTER 1981! YES, IT'S ALL HERE, ALL 6 SONGS NOT EVEN DIGITALLY REMASTERED BECAUSE WE DIDN'T KNOW THE MASTERS WERE EVER IN EXISTENCE IN THE FIRST PLACE! PRESENTING TO YOU FOR ONLY THE NEXT 5 MINUTES, RICK ASTELY AND SHA NA NA "I'M NEVER GONNA GIVE UP YOUR WITCH DOCTOR". HOW MUCH WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO PAY FOR THIS DUNG? $59.99? $29.99? HELL NO, MY MOM WOULDN'T EVEN GIVE ME THAT TO SHUT ME UP! NO, THIS COLLECTION IS BEING OFFERED AT THE LOW PRICE OF $1.99! YES YOU READ ME RIGHT,, $1.99! THIS WAS DUMPED IN MY GARAGE JUST 10 MINUTES AGO AND I HEARD IT AND MY EARS ARE STILL BLEEDING FROM DEPRESSION! YES, $1.99 WILL GET YOU THIS 6 SONG COLLECTION! I'LL EVEN PAY THE POSTAGE! GET IT WHILE IT'S STILL ONLY 20 FEET FROM THE TRASH COMPACTOR! ORDER NOW! PLEASE!
2. REMEMBER THE GINSU KNIVES? THOSE WONDERFUL BLADES OF SHARPLY HONED STEEL THAT WERE ABLE TO, FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON, CUT THROUGH A SOUP CAN? WELL THROW THAT 40-YEAR OLD CRAP AWAY, WE HAVE SOMETHING BETTER! HOW MUCH BETTER? DON'T RUSH ME, BOY! (cut to a Honda Civic in the mall parking lot). SEE THIS CAR? ITS LICENSE PLATE SAYS "CLASSIC ROD" JUST BECAUSE IT'S FROM 1990! DOESN'T THAT PISS YOU OFF? ISN'T IT A TRAVESTY THAT THIS FAMILY SEDAN GETS A RATING OF CLASSIC UP THERE WITH A 1966 MUSTANG? WELL I HAVE THE TOOL FOR YOU, THE WASABI-SAN 3000! YES THAT'S RIGHT, THE WASABI-SAN 3000! THIS FINEST CRAFTMANSHIP, COURTESY OF A COMBINED TEAM OF JAPANESE ENGINEERS AND JEDI MASTERS, HAS LASER PRECISION SO PRECISE THAT IT CAN CUT THROUGH THIS 20TH CENTURY TRAVESTY! WATCH CLOSELY AS MY ASSISTANT TAKES THIS SIMPLE PARING KNIFE AND CUTS RIGHT THROUGH THE CHASSIS OF THIS HONDA CIVIC! BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! IT CAN CUT THROUGH SEMIS! AIR FORCE 1! THE SPACE SHUTTLE! FORT KNOX! WE ONLY CHOSE THE CIVIC BECAUSE IT WAS ABANDONED BY A CARJACKER JUST YESTERDAY! HOW MUCH WOULD YOU EXPECT TO PAY FOR THIS FINE EXAMPLE OF INTERPLANETARY CRAFTMANSHIP? $29.99? $129.99? NO WAY JO-SE! THIS POTENTIAL MUGGING TOOL IS WORTH SO MUCH MORE, AND THAT IS WHAT WE'LL CHARGE YOU! THINK FIRST-BORN! BUT FEAR NOT, THE WASABI-SAN WILL PAY FOR ITSELF OVER TIME! JUST THINK OF THAT NEIGHBOR WHO'S HAD YOUR DRILL FOR 4 WEEKS! THINK OF THE NEIGHBOR THAT'S BEEN DRILLING YOUR WIFE! THINK OF THAT DENTIST WHO DRILLED THE WRONG TOOTH LAST YEAR! PAYBACK IS AT HAND! ORDER NOW!
3. TIRED OF BEING DEAF? TIRED OF HEARING AIDS THAT COST A FORTUNE AND DON'T LET YOU EVEN HEAR YOUR HUSBAND SNORING? LET ME ASK YOU THIS: CAN YOU DECIPHER MORSE CODE? NO? WHO CAN? WELL FEAR NOT! COMING FROM THE TECHNOLOGY OF MALWART ENGINEERS WHO COULDN'T EVEN CUT IT AT IKEA COMES THE HEARING AID OF HEARING AIDS! YES, THAT IS RIGHT! NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR YOUR HUSBAND SNORE, NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR THE NEIGHBOR'S DOG BARKING WHILE THE NEIGHBOR SCREWS HIS WIFE,NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR ANNOYING INFOMERCIALS LIKE THIS ONE...NOT ONLY...WHERE WAS I? OH YES! NOW, FOR THE FIRST TIME, THIS HEARING AID WILL ALSO LET YOU DECIPHER MORSE CODE! ISN'T THAT EXCITING? IF YOU'RE ON A NAVAL VESSEL AND THE CAPTAIN IS SENDING A CODED MESSAGE TO ANOTHER SHIP, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO ACT CLUELESSLY DEAF AS THE MESSAGE IS INSTANTLY DECODED FOR YOU TO TAKE TO ANY FOREIGN EMBASSY AND REQUEST ASYLUM! IT'S THAT EASY! HOW MUCH DO YOU EXPECT TO PAY FOR THIS DEVICE? $39.99? NAH, YOU'LL PAY THAT IN THE FIRST 5 MINUTES ALONE! NO, THIS BABY IS WORTH 10 TIMES THAT AND THEREFORE WE'LL TACK ON AN ADDITIONAL $50 JUST BECAUSE WE'RE GREEDY BASTARDS! BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! IF YOU ACT IN THE NEXT 48 SECONDS, WE'LL THROW IN A BOTTLE OF AUNT JEMIMA SYRUP ABSOLUTELY ALMOST FREE, JUST 75 CENTS MORE! ORDER NOW! I SAID RIGHT NOW YOU DEAF BASTARD!
So you see, my financial future is planned quite well. So well that after I am done being sued by every conceivable consumer advocate group, I might be able to afford half of that sun visor. So maybe those test patterns actually protected us rather than wasted good money. Well by golly if you order in the next minute, I'll send you a test pattern absolutely free, just pay the $75 shipping and handling.
No longer. I mean, I am still thinking of those days fondly, but they are no longer here. The programmers of stations both local and cable decided that money was being wasted during those non-programmed hours, much like Federal money is wasted regulating the hole circumference in Swiss cheese. No, instead of glorious white noise, we have what is known as "paid programming".
We all know, of course, that ALL programming pays or gets paid in one way or another. The normal term for this money-making gimmick is infomercials, a disgusting amalgamation mixing information and commercials. On any given night, I can flip through a few channels and find an infomercial lasting 30 minutes telling me the advantage of buying a 40-CD set of songs "digitally remastered" that I already own apparently unmastered. I can also find infomercials trying to sell to me, for a ransom of $29.95 per minute, kitchen appliances I will never find a use for.
Well, by golly, if it's that easy, then Mr. Moore has a few infomercials guaranteed to not only make the station money, but also maybe replace the sun visor on the passenger side of my car, it's a win-win deal!
1. TIRED OF YOUR COLLECTION OF GOOD MUSIC? WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO HEAR SOME USELESS CRAP FOR A CHANGE? HOLD ON TO YOUR PLASTIC SOFA COVERS EVERYONE! COMING TO YOU FROM LIMETIFE RECORDS IS THE LONG AWAITED RELEASE OF THE MOST CURIOUS AND UNWELCOME PAIRING OF MEDIOCRITY EVER TO HIT THE HIGHEST FREQUENCY ON THE AM DIAL. IT'S RICK ASTLEY AND SHA NA NA TOGETHER, WHY, WE HAVE NO DAMN CLUE! YES IT'S RICK ASTLEY,, THE ARTIST WHOSE ASS WAS CREAMED BY BANANARAMA ON A WEEKLY BASIS, BELTING OUT HITS WITH SHA NA NA, THE GROUP WHO SOMEHOW CAPITALIZED ON AN APPEARANCE IN GREASE WITH A 4-YEAR SYNDICATED PROGRAM NEVER AIRED AGAIN AFTER 1981! YES, IT'S ALL HERE, ALL 6 SONGS NOT EVEN DIGITALLY REMASTERED BECAUSE WE DIDN'T KNOW THE MASTERS WERE EVER IN EXISTENCE IN THE FIRST PLACE! PRESENTING TO YOU FOR ONLY THE NEXT 5 MINUTES, RICK ASTELY AND SHA NA NA "I'M NEVER GONNA GIVE UP YOUR WITCH DOCTOR". HOW MUCH WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO PAY FOR THIS DUNG? $59.99? $29.99? HELL NO, MY MOM WOULDN'T EVEN GIVE ME THAT TO SHUT ME UP! NO, THIS COLLECTION IS BEING OFFERED AT THE LOW PRICE OF $1.99! YES YOU READ ME RIGHT,, $1.99! THIS WAS DUMPED IN MY GARAGE JUST 10 MINUTES AGO AND I HEARD IT AND MY EARS ARE STILL BLEEDING FROM DEPRESSION! YES, $1.99 WILL GET YOU THIS 6 SONG COLLECTION! I'LL EVEN PAY THE POSTAGE! GET IT WHILE IT'S STILL ONLY 20 FEET FROM THE TRASH COMPACTOR! ORDER NOW! PLEASE!
2. REMEMBER THE GINSU KNIVES? THOSE WONDERFUL BLADES OF SHARPLY HONED STEEL THAT WERE ABLE TO, FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON, CUT THROUGH A SOUP CAN? WELL THROW THAT 40-YEAR OLD CRAP AWAY, WE HAVE SOMETHING BETTER! HOW MUCH BETTER? DON'T RUSH ME, BOY! (cut to a Honda Civic in the mall parking lot). SEE THIS CAR? ITS LICENSE PLATE SAYS "CLASSIC ROD" JUST BECAUSE IT'S FROM 1990! DOESN'T THAT PISS YOU OFF? ISN'T IT A TRAVESTY THAT THIS FAMILY SEDAN GETS A RATING OF CLASSIC UP THERE WITH A 1966 MUSTANG? WELL I HAVE THE TOOL FOR YOU, THE WASABI-SAN 3000! YES THAT'S RIGHT, THE WASABI-SAN 3000! THIS FINEST CRAFTMANSHIP, COURTESY OF A COMBINED TEAM OF JAPANESE ENGINEERS AND JEDI MASTERS, HAS LASER PRECISION SO PRECISE THAT IT CAN CUT THROUGH THIS 20TH CENTURY TRAVESTY! WATCH CLOSELY AS MY ASSISTANT TAKES THIS SIMPLE PARING KNIFE AND CUTS RIGHT THROUGH THE CHASSIS OF THIS HONDA CIVIC! BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! IT CAN CUT THROUGH SEMIS! AIR FORCE 1! THE SPACE SHUTTLE! FORT KNOX! WE ONLY CHOSE THE CIVIC BECAUSE IT WAS ABANDONED BY A CARJACKER JUST YESTERDAY! HOW MUCH WOULD YOU EXPECT TO PAY FOR THIS FINE EXAMPLE OF INTERPLANETARY CRAFTMANSHIP? $29.99? $129.99? NO WAY JO-SE! THIS POTENTIAL MUGGING TOOL IS WORTH SO MUCH MORE, AND THAT IS WHAT WE'LL CHARGE YOU! THINK FIRST-BORN! BUT FEAR NOT, THE WASABI-SAN WILL PAY FOR ITSELF OVER TIME! JUST THINK OF THAT NEIGHBOR WHO'S HAD YOUR DRILL FOR 4 WEEKS! THINK OF THE NEIGHBOR THAT'S BEEN DRILLING YOUR WIFE! THINK OF THAT DENTIST WHO DRILLED THE WRONG TOOTH LAST YEAR! PAYBACK IS AT HAND! ORDER NOW!
3. TIRED OF BEING DEAF? TIRED OF HEARING AIDS THAT COST A FORTUNE AND DON'T LET YOU EVEN HEAR YOUR HUSBAND SNORING? LET ME ASK YOU THIS: CAN YOU DECIPHER MORSE CODE? NO? WHO CAN? WELL FEAR NOT! COMING FROM THE TECHNOLOGY OF MALWART ENGINEERS WHO COULDN'T EVEN CUT IT AT IKEA COMES THE HEARING AID OF HEARING AIDS! YES, THAT IS RIGHT! NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR YOUR HUSBAND SNORE, NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR THE NEIGHBOR'S DOG BARKING WHILE THE NEIGHBOR SCREWS HIS WIFE,NOT ONLY WILL YOU HEAR ANNOYING INFOMERCIALS LIKE THIS ONE...NOT ONLY...WHERE WAS I? OH YES! NOW, FOR THE FIRST TIME, THIS HEARING AID WILL ALSO LET YOU DECIPHER MORSE CODE! ISN'T THAT EXCITING? IF YOU'RE ON A NAVAL VESSEL AND THE CAPTAIN IS SENDING A CODED MESSAGE TO ANOTHER SHIP, YOU'LL BE ABLE TO ACT CLUELESSLY DEAF AS THE MESSAGE IS INSTANTLY DECODED FOR YOU TO TAKE TO ANY FOREIGN EMBASSY AND REQUEST ASYLUM! IT'S THAT EASY! HOW MUCH DO YOU EXPECT TO PAY FOR THIS DEVICE? $39.99? NAH, YOU'LL PAY THAT IN THE FIRST 5 MINUTES ALONE! NO, THIS BABY IS WORTH 10 TIMES THAT AND THEREFORE WE'LL TACK ON AN ADDITIONAL $50 JUST BECAUSE WE'RE GREEDY BASTARDS! BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! IF YOU ACT IN THE NEXT 48 SECONDS, WE'LL THROW IN A BOTTLE OF AUNT JEMIMA SYRUP ABSOLUTELY ALMOST FREE, JUST 75 CENTS MORE! ORDER NOW! I SAID RIGHT NOW YOU DEAF BASTARD!
So you see, my financial future is planned quite well. So well that after I am done being sued by every conceivable consumer advocate group, I might be able to afford half of that sun visor. So maybe those test patterns actually protected us rather than wasted good money. Well by golly if you order in the next minute, I'll send you a test pattern absolutely free, just pay the $75 shipping and handling.
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