|This woman is going to change my life.|
Let me preface by saying that my wife used to enjoy watching basketball with me. When we first started dating, she used to come over to my apartment and we'd stay up late watching NBA doubleheader playoff games. She even wore her Latrell Sprewell New York Knicks jersey over once. I'd often put on my fliest sweatpants and we'd sit on my couch and she'd watch with genuine interest as I explained to her the x's and o's of the game. I remember one time
Fast forward five years and all of our chairs now stay in the dining room. She calls the Sixers "the most boring team in the league." She told me last night that baseball was her favorite sport. But I'm still smitten, especially because last night she brought me a bowl of Boo Berry cereal as we settled in for a night of compromise.
What follows is a timeline of last night's TV watching bonanza.
8:08 - After watching the first hour of the Sixers-Heat game and listening to the HORRIFIC local TV announcers, Dar says that hearing Joe Buck and Tim McCarver's voices on Fox's World Series broadcast is "sort of enjoyable." Minutes later McCarver tells us that Elvis Andrus is the first "Elvis" to ever play in the World Series. The channel gets changed.
8:17 - While putting my empty bowl of cereal in the sink, Dar calls to me from the other room to tell me that "Miss Jay is on!" I race back in to find that the lunatics will not be having a regular photo shoot today, instead they're going to film a commercial for an energy drink and have to wear roller skates and kiss a guy. One girl starts freaking out because she's a lesbian. The channel gets changed.
|This guy scored two more points than you did last night ... two.|
8:28 - Now reaching level 9 freak out status, the lesbian lunatic confesses to MISTER Jay (that's the silver haired guy who wears more makeup than ANY of the Real Housewives of Atlanta) that she was sexually assaulted as a teenager and no longer trusts men. I scoff and roll my eyes and then realize that I'm being super insensitive because she probably was sexually assaulted. My wife gives me "the claw" while Nigel Barker instructs one of the models on how to properly flirt with a man.
"Kiss him," my wife says out loud. "Kiss him!"
Nigel does not, and soon the orthodox Jewish lunatic with the size G (not kidding!) breasts takes her turn to shoot the commercial.
8:33 - Okay, this is just ridiculous. Not only have we been watching America's Next Top Lunatic for the last seven minutes, but now another lunatic is crying. This one is like 9 feet tall and is terrified that she'll "fall in the dirt" while rollerskating. I scoff and roll my eyes again until she really does wipe out HARD and slams her elbows on the pavement. She REALLY took a spill and is now even more shaken than before. She can't remember her lines, her voice cracks with every word and she's rollerskating like a baby lamb. Nigel goes and gets her some elbow and knee pads which help about as much as a bowl of Boo Berry. Thank God for a commercial (not because I don't wanna watch, but because the last seven minutes of television have been absolutely riveting and I need a break). Let's go back to the Sixers.
|This honestly looks like the saddest Giraffe ever.|
8:42 - LeBron almost catches a ridiculous alley-opp, cramming it off the back rim, causing me to blurt out, "HOE DOG!" ... I have absolutely no idea what this means or why I said it, but Dar wastes no time asking, "Hoe dog?"
I have no answer for her and try to keep my eyes on the game, but keep hearing her mumble to herself, "Hoe dog huh? ... Hoe dog ....... Hoe dog? ... Hoe dog."
She eventually stops but then says that "maybe we'll have hot dogs friday night." I tell her that's a great idea.
8:48 - Back to the lunatics where Tyra, Nigel, Zac Rosen and the big black guy who wears a cape are critiquing their commercial shoots. Tyra always has such great posture. I wonder if she played the viola growing up? A few of the girls gave absolutely terrible performances and at least three of them are crying. The orthodox Jew with the bladdow! titties looks incredibly stiff, but not nearly as bad as Big Bird the 9 footer who upon further review roller-skates more like a drunk baby lamb. She also has the worst posture I've ever seen. I want her eliminated. She HAS TO get eliminated ............. So who do they eliminate? ......... the Jew with the absolute humongous yammers.
Life is not fair.
9:10 - After some flipping between games and arguing over how to properly use a remote control, we put on Modern Family, a show we've seen a bunch of times (and like very much), but have never gotten REALLY into.
The father Phil is one of those actors who can do anything and be funny. I like him. I think the gay couple is a little annoying, but the Colombian lady and her orthodox Jew titties are just bonkers, so I'm always up for watching it. Well, Miss Columbia was showing off her ying-yangs so I had no problem missing some hoops. Plus, the Sixers are the most boring team in the league.
|Just stop it! ... just stop!|
(For the record, I never actually plan on writing about titties so much; they're just ubiquitous in our TV watching. Between lunatics who SHOULD NOT have size G's to a Columbian who probably has size H's, it's not my fault I am surrounded by jang-jangs all the time.)
Anyway, what followed during the next half hour of Real Housewives of Atlanta deserves its own post, its own blog and it's own panel discussion with Miss Jay, Mister Jay, Tim McCarver and Nene Hilario of the Denver Nuggets.
Let it be known that we did not watch the Real Housewives of Atlanta the past few years, but after meeting this Nene woman, we are HOOKED. In a three minute span, she told the Don't Be Tardy For the Party lady not to "squeeze my titties" and "don't hurt Michael Jackson now." Later, she gave an incredible neck-roll and finger-snap worthy of Blaine Edwards and Antoine Mayweather (You remember them! From In Living Color's Men on Film!).
All in all, it was a tremendous night. Yeah, the Sixers lost and my fantasy basketball team is in last place and the only woman I've ever known with straight-up G tators is out of my life. But I got to meet Nene, who promises a future of undeniable drama and comedy. And I got to do it all on my couch, in my sweatpants with a bowl of Boo Berry cereal ... sitting right next to my wonderful Dar.