Wednesday, March 30, 2011

American Idol: Google Image Search For Paul McDonald Yields Pictures of People Who Look Much More Like Paul McDonalds

Paul Blart, Mall Cop / Beautician

I gotta say, I really like this Paul McDonald fella. I like his voice, his hair, his beard, his moves, I really like his moves, I mean, I've really never seen moves like his, but there is one aspect of Paul McDonald that needs some serious improvement:

His name!

Paul McDonald?

C'mon Paul McDonald! The Paul McDonald I know does not look like a Paul McDonald. He looks more like "Reese Rhinestone" or "Clay Ringledaybs." So I did a Google image search for Paul McDonald and these are the Paul McDonalds that I found:

This is Paul McDonald. Probably sells life insurance. Played the saxophone in middle school. Collects model trains. Or possibly dead hookers. He's Paul McDonald. Middle name is most likely Ralph.

This is also Paul McDonald. Dentist. Rides a bike. Keeps a low sodium diet. May also collect dead hookers.

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Paul McDonald. Once bowled a 237. Allergic to everything bagels. Swears that a squirrel can go faster than a car.

Hello there. I'm Paul McDonald. I just murdered someone. Big Charlotte Hornets fan back in the day. Favorite player? Kelly Tripucka.

Nice to meet you, I'm Paul McDonald. My office is down the hall to the left. If you need anything, feel free to give me a holler. Oh, also, I've had hemorrhoids consistently for the last 15 years of my life. Please kill me.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

DWTS: Photos of Stars Who May or May Not Be Dancing With People Who Are More Famous Than Them

This picture is for my wife. You're welcome Dar Dar.

I fell asleep during last week's season premiere of Dancing With the Stars, but not before hearing Tom Bergeron pronounce Ralph Macchio's first name, "Rowlf," like the piano playing Muppet dog.

Quick thoughts on this year's participants:

People I Like or Once Liked

Kirstie Alley: Loved her on Cheers, not sure what she's been doing since, and I think her hair looks really really clean in the picture above. 

Ralph Macchio: Loved him in The Outsiders, not sure what he's been doing since, but I think he once played a Chinese kid in some movie about Chinese food.

Sugar Ray Leonard: Loved him when I got one of those Sugar Ray punching bags as a kid, not sure what he's been doing since, and I'm pretty sure that's a fake belt he's wearing in that picture.

People That Are Okay, I Guess, And I Could Possibly Grow to Like Them

Kendra Wilkinson: Never found her that attractive, but she does have a pretty decent and silly personality. Husband is a terrible football player and not quite sure what she's doing with her feet up there. Is that the "flutter-foot"?

Petra Nemcova: I sort of find her attractive, but the fact that she broke her hip in a Tsunami is the least surprising thing I've ever heard. Also, executing the "flutter-foot" much better than Kendra. A true professional.

Hinds Ward: Never had him on my fantasy team, which is mind-blowing because I'm pretty sure I drafted Hank Baskett a few years ago. Obviously loves Chinese food as evidenced by picture above.

Evster's note: Apparently his name is actually "Hines." I don't know why I thought it was "Hinds," probably because I'm an idiot. Thanks to "Nathan" for pointing this out in the comments section, the 947th time he's ever corrected me.

Romeo: I find this picture to be absolutely hilarious, so I now kinda like him. Would KILL to have a mustache like that. Probably a better wide receiver than Hank Baskett.

Chelsea Kane: Has probably never met a black person.

People That Seem Really Really Annoying

Chris Jericho: I hate white people.

Wendy Williams: Cried like 7 times on the first episode. Probably the worst dancer I've ever seen.

The Reason I Watch This Show (Or At Least the Reason I Tell People Why I Watch This Show)

Anna Trebunskaya: Nobody "flutter-foots" like the Russians.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Yogurt My Wife Eats

Yep, this blog-post is about yogurt.

Seeing as I commandeered the remote this past weekend to watch March Madness, my wife was unable to watch any television for me to blog about. She was also unable buy me Doritos at the grocery store because I was recently diagnosed with high blood pressure and can no longer eat anything with ito in it. She was however able to buy lots of yogurt, which doesn't taste nearly as good as ito products, but apparently is much better for my digestive system and chronic case of Exploding Ass Syndrome.

Now, my wife doesn't just buy any yogurt, she only buys yogurt that's more expensive than other yogurts. And this weekend she splurged for the really expensive Greek yogurt with the fruit on the side. Apparently, Greek yogurt has taken over the yogurt world, a development that I was completely unaware of. Sure, I knew about tzatziki sauce (which is awesome), but that's not really made with yogurt, it's made with marshmogurt. Also, I hadn't eaten yogurt in almost twenty years due to my aforementioned ito addiction and the fact that yogurt sucks.

I'm not allowed to have either of these.

However, I was willing to try this new Greek yogurt because I happen to like all things Greek: gyros, the Olympics, chest hair, Roman numerals, George Stephanopolous, George Papadapolis, Snuffleupagus, Snuff films, so I totally support this recent power shift in the yogurt world. 

My wife's Greek yogurt of choice is the brand, Fage (pronounced: Fa-yeh), although we call it "Greek yogurt." I'm not sure why we call it Greek yogurt, possibly to distinguish it from the Stonyfield yogurts in our fridge, but I guess we could just call it Fa-yeh, or yogurt, or Grogurt, but we don't.

If you've never had Grogurt, it's very smooth and tangy, almost twangy, and comes complete with its fruit on the side a la Dunkaroos or those Handi Snacks Cheez N Crackers containers with the red, plastic stick that I used to go f***ing bonkers for. My wife eats her Grogurt by mixing her fruit and Grogurt together into one colorfully mashed Grogurt, but that just seems juvenile to me. We're not making chocolate milk here or mixing watercolors, we're enjoying a Greek delicacy. I like to take a little fruit on my spoon and scoop out some Grogurt with it, deciding for myself how fruity each one of my spoonfuls will be. This happens to also be a perfect metaphor for my life.

Snuffy probably eats Grogurt like a boss.

Unfortunately, we never seem to have any clean, small spoons in our house which is clearly the best way to enjoy Grogurt (or just regular yogurt). I had to eat my Grogurt this weekend with a large spoon, which was especially difficult because every time I put my Grogurt down with my spoon resting in it, it toppled over and fell on the floor. Moreover, my spoon was way too big to scoop out all of the blueberry sauce so I ended up trying to jam my tongue into the Grogurt container and got Grogurt all over my chin. Amazingly, this was an even better metaphor for my life.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed my Grogurt experience and look forward to having it again the next time I can't find anything in the house to eat (or when my wife just brings me some). I'm very happy for the Greeks and their recent rise on the yogurt pantheon, even if it does mean that our weekly grocery bill will inevitably be larger. Lastly, I'm not sure if I'm ever allowed to eat baklava again, but I do know that my wife is going away in a few weekends so I'll probably score myself a batch and possibly eat them on top of Doritos.

Also, I secretly had fried chicken yesterday.

Don't tell her!!!

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Or just make some Fried Chicken. That seems like the better move anyway.

Friday, March 18, 2011

NCAA Tournament: Favorite Players

After day one of March Madness, here are my favorite players:

David Stockton, Gonzaga

Josh Smith, UCLA aka The Bread Truck

Coco, Morehead St.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The Bachelor Finale: Hard to Watch (Except When Chantal Was In That Wetsuit)

Not pictured: Chantal with one of those sticks jammed through her heart.

There are few things in this world more difficult to watch than The Bachelor letting go of the final bachelorette. One of those things happens to be watching ninth grade girls basketball. If you've never seen a ninth grade girls hoops game, it is PAINFUL to witness. The girls just plod up and down the court, constantly traveling and occasionally shooting the ball OVER the basket. This past winter, I coached ninth grade boys basketball and almost gauged my eyeballs out every Tuesday and Thursday when I was forced to sit through the girls' snoozefests. It was similar to watching a date with Emily and Brad. But if I had to choose between watching Perkiomen Valley and Cinnaminson or seeing Chantal get her heart ripped out on national television, I'd go with the latter.

Poor Chantal though, with her Lewinsky lips and double barreled vuvuzelas, having to stand there and listen to Pickelsimer's ramblings about how he loved another. I wanted to jump through my television and give her a big hug (and then take advantage of her vulnerability and blow on said vuvuzelas. Can you imagine the sound they'd make?!?!). Luckily for Chantal, she quickly landed on her feet and most likely blew the mind of some South African rugby player on her way outta the country.


It was a roller-coaster ride of emotions for both Chantal and Pickelsimer, who started the show off by completely losing his shit when he was reunited with his family. They responded by hugging him and supporting him. Now I know that myself and The Bach have VERY little in common, but our families are even less alike. This is what an encounter with my family would've been like if we were reunited in South Africa. 

Me:  Heyyyyyy guys. Great to see you! 

Dad:  Hey Ev! 

Brother:  Hey Evster! 

Mom:  Ugh, you look fat. 

Me:  Thanks Mom. 

Dad:  He doesn't look fat. 

Mom:  Yes he does. And bald. 

Brother:  He's been bald. 

Mom:  You seriously don't think he looks fat? 

Dad:  Fat, skinny, who cares? Yeah, I think he looks fat, but I don't tell him.

Brother:  You definitely look balder than before.

Dad:  He's not balder than before! He's fatter.

Mom:  My Evy had the brightest, reddest hair as a kid.

Brother:  Well now he's fat.

Mom:  Also, when he was a baby, he constantly shit himself.  

Dad:  Still does. 

Mom:  Remember that time he shit himself in Hebrew school? 

Me:  Yeah. 

Brother:  No!

Mom:  Well, he and Joshua Lipshutz were ...

Dad:  Ev, you still shit yourself, right? Have you been shitting yourself here in Africa?

Me:  No, I haven't been shitting myself.

Dad:  I shit myself on the way here.

Mom:  Would you two stop talking about shitting yourselves so I can tell a story about Ev shitting himself?

My mom would then tell a story that partially had to do with me shitting myself, but mostly had to do with her friend Nancy's daughter and her husband who's going to pharmacy school. 

It doesn't matter how long you look, you won't find it.

Brad's family came complete with Mom, brother Wes and twin brother CHAD! Yep, Brad and Chad. Real names. Real people. Most mind boggling to me was the fact that when the three brothers sat down to talk, Chad sat Indian style. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm 33 years old and CANNOT sit Indian style. In fact, whenever I play board games or do stuff on the floor, I constantly have to switch positions like I'm playing Twister. One second I'm sitting with my legs out, then I'm doing planks. Then I'm on my knees. Then I'm going Tony Pena style. Very similar to Chantal in the fantasy suite.

Poor Chantal!

So are Brad's brothers still Pickelsimers? Or have they too made the switch? Which leads us to the question of the evening:

Neil Lane, the jeweler who supplied The Bach with his engagement ring, what is his REAL last name?

a) Lipshutz
b) Loewenstern
c) Who are we kidding? It's definitely Lipshutz.

Thanks, Lip.

Chantal gets ready to play Monopoly.

The other question of the evening is: Is Emily a snooze?

This is a tough call. Part of me thinks she's the most perfect Southern Belle and should forever be named Miss West Virginia, but another part of me thinks she might be a snooze! Let's compare her to Chantal.

Chantal is clearly not a snooze, as evidenced by her ability to look sexy while being eaten by a shark and her keen interest in amateur cartography.

Emily has a tattoo on her wrist, bore a child out of wedlock and as I mentioned a moment ago, is from West Virginia and can surely make a mean batch of moonshine. And so, my final verdict is ............................. NO! Emily is not a snooze!

Who knows if Emily and Brad will make it? It sure seems like they've got a rocky road ahead. Pickels admitted to having a violent temper and Emily claims she's incredibly insecure and stubborn. One thing's for sure though, Chantal's new boyfriend is probably loving life. And will most likely be posting nude pictures of her on the internet in no time.

And those will not be hard to look at.

So I'm thinking of taking a paper-mâché class.


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Or look at this picture of a polar bear relaxing.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

I Just Found Out My Wife Never Saw The Fab Five Play!

ESPN's documentary about the Fab Five this Sundee night!

Here's a few amazing clips from the team that Latrell Sprewell (my wife's all-time favorite player) wishes he was apart of:

Friday, March 11, 2011

Jersey Shore: Can Someone Please Help This Sammi Woman? If No One Does Anything, She Is Going To Be Murdered Very Very Soon.

Run, lady, RUN!!! ... And why are you wearing those shoes?!?!

There are currently some major issues out there grabbing the world's attention: Wisconsin losing their collective bargaining rights, the Libyan revolution, the impending Fab Five documentary, but for some reason, NO ONE is talking about the fact that Ronnie is THE MOST ABUSIVE PERSON of all time and may END SAMMI'S LIFE very shortly!

Seriously, you're telling me that Ellen can go bonkers for an anti-bullying campaign, gathering the help of the Obamas, but NO ONE WILL TALK ABOUT Ronnie's behavior?!?! Charlie Sheen has a million twitter followers, Coco has Thong Thursdays, but Barbara Walters can't roll over in her grave to do an expose on domestic violence?!?! How has Dr. Drew not reached out to Sammi? How has Intervention not tried to get Ron-Ron off the juice? How does Snooki ever get ANYONE to hook up with her?!?!

At least in the old days when this would happen on an episode of Family Ties or something, they'd have Alex P. Keets come out and do a P.S.A. like, "If you're in an abusive relationship or know someone who is, call this number. Do NOT call Ellen. She doesn't give an isht." But now after the show, MTV is all, "Hey, wanna see more clips of Ronnie almost turning Sammi's face into The English Patient's? Log onto and also see videos of teenagers f***ing." This world is not in a good place.

What the freak is Barbara Walters doing with her life?!?! Barbara, call me! I have a very important assignment for you!!

Other ramblings about last night's television lineup:

- J-Lo needs to just resign from American Idol before she has a friggin' nervous breakdown. She empathizes way too much with these contestants. I mean, we're only two weeks in and she's already bugging out whenever they have to send someone home. I'm also not sure if Steven Tyler has any idea what he's wearing at any particular moment. I feel like his stylists are playing a practical joke on him, similarly to what Stevie Wonder's did to him the last forty years.

J-Lo gets ready for her appearance on The Bachelor's Women Tell All.

- Championship week in college basketball is driving me berzerker. I can't handle it. Too many channels, too many games, PLUS the Heat playing the Lakers?!?! My wife legitimately got a headache from me changing the channels so often last night. It might be time to go double TV action in the ole living room. And why doesn't Kobe attack the rim any more? I know, I know, his knees are shot, but I can't take him settling for jumpers, that's always bothered me about him. He even settled for pull-ups back in high school. When Kobe was stripped in the waning possessions by D-Wade who then dished to Bron-Bron for the flush, we may have witnessed a live paradigm shift. Also, I have NO IDEA if I used the term "paradigm shift" correctly

What I do know is:

- I have like a thirty-five foot boner in anticipation of this Sunday's Fab 5 documentary on ESPN. Here are my top 3 all-time favorite sports teams:

3. 1990 Sixers w/ Sir Charles, Rick Mahorn & Manute Bol 
2. The Fab 5
1. The Buddy Ryan era Philadelphia Eagles

So happy.

All business.

Google image search: Fab 5. Documentary by MTV currently in the works.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

The Bachelor: The Women Tell All, Except for Shawntel Who Apparently Doesn't Talk Anymore

Are any of those candles lit? That's a lot of candles.

If any of The Bachelor's female contestants are looking for a career following the show, they should seriously consider becoming professional boner-killers. Nothing deflates boners quite like women crying and last night there were more tears shed and boners demolished than ever before in the history of western civilization. Seriously, what was wrong with those women? I understand that harsh things were said and feelings were hurt, but KEEP IT TOGETHER LADIES!

I have a little tip for the women out there who are hoping to one day land a husband and/or not destroy a man's boner. Are you ready? This is a big one.

Ladies, you're much more attractive when you're not crying.

I know, I know, it happens. Women are emotional and sometimes the flood gates just open up. And you know what? Sometimes men cry too, like when we're watching The English Patient and accidentally miss the end of the Syracuse-Georgetown game. Or when we lop off our arm with a chainsaw. But the key is, we don't unleash the waterworks until after we're hitched. Before I got married, I never cried, ever. Now that I'm spoken for, I cry all the time. Touching story about some dude on American Idol, crying. Hey honey, wanna watch Sling Blade? Crying. Eh, I don't really like my tuna hoagie, wanna go splitsville on that cheesesteak? Crying. I've lost all control over my life. I also have a blog about reality television. And haven't held a remote control in my hands in close to six years. How did this paragraph become about me? Crying.

Does this man look happy?

Along with the meltdowns last night, there was also a great deal of eye-rolling and groaning. And not just normal eye-rolling and groaning, like really exaggerated and exasperated eye-rolling and groaning that you might find in a yoga studio. At one point while Michelle attempted to defend her motives, it sounded like sheep were being slaughtered. My buddy Law has a 93 year-old grandmother named Momoo who makes a noise like, "oohhhhaaawwww" when saying, "ooohhhhhawwww really?" and I coulda sworn she was sitting up on stage last night. For the record, Momoo was also the first female, non-relative of mine to ever kiss me on the lips. She actually still kisses me on the lips whenever I see her. Ooohhhhhawwww.

Poor Michelle, who took the brunt of those eye-rolls and groans as the ladies unleashed a verbal assault on her. Amazingly, she came out looking vulnerable and lonely while her attackers looked sad, spiteful and not nearly as physically attractive as the other women. Apparently Stacey and that other lady are unaware of Ellen's anti-bullying campaign. I think at one point I heard Jackie utter the phrase, "Honestly Michelle, like, not to be whatever, but whatever." My personal favorite moment of the show took place when Stacey and that other lady kept berating Michelle, causing Chris Harrison to go to the ole dog whistle / "cut it out" hand gesture before barking the words, "Like, really?" Law later told me that after watching that segment, he wished that those two chicks would get into a horrible car accident and become severely disfigured.

Before he got his face burnt up, Ralph Fiennes totally nailed Kristen Scott Thomas in a totally hot sex scene.

Truly an unbelievable performance by Harrison who showed time and time again that he is no Ryan Seacrest. While Michelle broke down, he could have very easily given her a shoulder to cry on, but instead chose to just sit there until she got her isht together. Also, when referring to how difficult the experience of being a female contestant on The Bachelor is, he said something to the effect that "you don't know what it's like before you get in ya'lls heels." I can't believe this guy has a job (or the ability to dribble a soccer ball). Did you see those nifty moves during the African school segment? Granted, he was playing against malnourished three-year-olds, but pretty nice step-overs.

The most puzzling segment of the reunion occurred when little Ashley questioned Brad as to why she wouldn't make a good wife. Seemed to me like Brad said she WOULD make a good wife, just not a good wife for him. That sounded fair enough. If I were Brad (which I'm not, because I have ZERO muscles and MUCH more back hair), I would've explained the situation to Ashley like this:

Ashley:  Um, Brad, why wouldn't I make a good wife for you?

Brad:  Because we just don't mesh.

Ashley:  But why?

Brad:  C'mon, do we really have to do this on national television? There's guys with boners out there and ...

Ashley:  I just need to know.

Brad:  Like, really?

Ashley:  Really.


Ashley:  What? ... Who's this guy?

Me:  My name's Evan, I write a blog. I have no testicles. But those Silly Bandz you wear are f***ing retarded. Get ahold of your life.

Ashley:  Is this true, Brad? Is this why you dumped me?

Brad:  Yes.

Me:  You're 26 years old and you're wearing f***ing Silly Bandz! How can you expect a dude to take you seriously?!?!

Ashley:  But they're just bracelets. I don't understand. It doesn't make me a horrible person.

Me:  Yes it f***ing does! No self-respecting man, or even non-respecting man is going to date a chick who wears those things. I mean, granted, I have my faults too, I actually keep a stuffed animal in my bedroom, but it's Cookie Monster and that dude is a pimp. He eats cookies. And other stuff. I once saw him eat a telephone. Now please pack your knives and go! Auf wiedersehen!

That cookie doesn't stand a chance.

So now it comes down to Emily vs. Chantal and I seriously have no idea who Mr. Pickels will pick. Sometimes I think Emily and her sweet sassy molassy. And other times I think Chantal and her breasts filled with cash. My wife and her friend Bridget have theories of their own, though. I'll explain.

Last night when Brad was introduced, he mentioned that he promised his significant other that he would not get too excited when he saw the other women. My wife (who watches a lot of Law and Order), said that she doesn't see Emily acting that way. That Chantal seems the more jealous of the two and would therefore be more likely to force Brad to rein in his enthusiasm. And so, Brad must have picked Chantal.

But Bridget noticed that Brad used the word "mercy" twice throughout the evening, a VERY southern phrase and possibly an influence from his girlfriend, Emily. And so, he must have picked her. However, my wife rebutted that Brad too is from the south and we haven't heard Emily use the word "mercy" once this entire season.

And so, my wife MUST be right and thus is THE WINNER!!

Congratulations Darrie! You win!

Let's watch the English Patient this weekend and have a good cry! Or go ice skating! Or just sit and talk about our feelings! I love being married!!

Open your mouth Britt.

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Or read this article about yesterday's Barcelona-Arsenal match. That's what I'd do. 

Monday, March 7, 2011

The Bachelor Tonight: Interview With a Vampire (and 17 Other Crazy Mofos)

ZZ Top would be uber-excited for all the legs shown tonight. 

So next week is the season finale of The Bach, but TONIGHT is the "Women Tell All" show or "Behind the Rose" or "Behind the Secret Rose" or "An Evening Without Charlie Sheen," or "A Show That Charlie Rose Would Never Agree To Host." It's the night where they bring back all those crazy women and blab about what went on this past season (underneath the rose petals). Essentially, it's the one night where Chris Harrison actually has to work for a living.

Some people see this as a great opportunity to take a week off from The Bach and say, do something with their lives, but those are also the same people who tonight will probably be watching Bravo. These shows actually have a great track record. Remember, this was the format for when Jason Mez dumped whatsherface in favor of whatshername. And also when Jake announced to the world that he was one day going to choke a bitch. I'm most looking forward to seeing eighteen ladies with REALLY shiny legs, freshly shaved and glistening for the national TV audience.

Most likely, it'll be a snoozefest, with one or two ladies who we don't even remember attempting to steal the spotlight with stories that include way too much giggling. I also don't think Emily nor Chantal will be on. But, there will be eighteen ladies with REALLY shiny legs.

They're honestly so shiny.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Backlash From the TVMWW Header Contest!!

The submissions keep rolling in! This one courtesy of some crazy lady from Texas.

Following the recent (and VERY successful) TVMWW Header / Soup Contest, there were some MAJOR jabs thrown at Gabulous's winning submission by the fifth place finisher, Loaves.

The following are a series of text messages exchanged by me and Loaves from last week. Loaves is a professional artist / video editor who once spent $400 on a pen. I've also seen him yell at televisions on many many occasions. He may or may not currently be on prescription medication. 

Loaves: Your new header is terrible. You should have picked Law's.

Evster:  I disagree!! Law's was WEAK. I actually liked Dick Dog's the best.

Loaves: Dick's was by far the worst.

This was Dick Dog's.

Evster:  Well we're gonna have to disagree to disagree. 

Loaves: The one that's up there is a good idea, but whoever those stiffs are in the TVs look like they're on murder trial.

Evster:  It's the Bachelor's mugshot and the host of The Bach. The girl who made it said she'll change those pics on request (based on what show is hot at that particular mome).

Loaves: Those guys need to get outta there, but I do respect the idea that the header says, "Here's a super crappy photo, get ready to read about some super crappy TV shows."

Evster:  We're disagreeing to disagree!! It's a good picture! That lady is so happy to have two televisions.

Loaves: Horrible quality mashed jpeg. Hurts eyes and feelings. Old one was colorful and pleasant, and just the right amount of shafty.

This was the old one.

Evster:  Well, I had a contest and you sent me a green puke colored couch. 

Loaves's submission. This is supposed to be an artsy shot of a couch.

Loaves: Mine was a good design. Low profile to allow long posts. No shim sham. Law's is super gay and funny. I'm advocating Law's. But really, is it much of a contest when the winner gets ten votes?

Evster:   Those votes didn't count! I'm a dictator. I'm Gaddafi! I chose who I wanted!

Loaves: Then choose Dick's!

Evster:  Dick's will get some time up there, eventually. Law's wasn't good! Just a guy!

This was Law's ... just a guy!

Loaves: At least I can infer that that guy is The Bachelor. The current one gives me no help.

Evster:  It's not my fault you're outta touch!

Loaves: You're gonna lose casual clickers with this one. It's misleading and creepy. Law's is at least funny.

Evster:  How is Law's funny? It's just a guy!

Loaves: TV My Wife Watches. You're being made to sit through looking at this dildo pass around flowers.

Evster:  I actually don't think he's a dild.

Loaves: The dude looks like a dildo in that picture.

And that was the end. I think we know who the real dild is.

Gabulous, care to put in your two-thousand cents?

This was a header submitted by Schmoopie, who wrote the initial email lambasting my former header.