Thursday, March 29, 2012

Game of Frones: New Seez Starts This Sunday! Let's Eat Sundaes to Celebrate! Game of Fronesssss!!!

That horse is so black.

“Game of Thrones is the new God.” 
GabulousTVMWW’s Senior Art Director (she made the header)

It has come to my attention that not everyone watches Game of Frones, which is weird because it’s the ultimate show. Game of Frones has everything: action, drama, sex, swordfights, sexfights, swordsex, pancakes, everything!

And here at TVMWW, I try to make it so everyone can read my posts, even if you don’t watch the particular program I'm blogging about. So without revealing any major spoilers, I’ve decided to write this Game of Frones post for two separate audiences: for those of you who watched the first season and for those of you who are living a goddamn lie. 

For fans who already watch the show, your text will be written in green, while those of you who haven't watched, you can follow along in blue (or bleu if you're from Houston).

Let’s do this!


I’m telling you dawgs, this show has it all! People get their heads chopped off, horses get their heads chopped off (kinda sad), there’s wolves (and they’re good wolves!), there’s a lady who’s also sort of a dragon, there's incest, a dwarf, sex (including some with the dwarf!), there’s some titty-action, LOTS of titty-action, muff shots (plural … like, I can distinctly remember two different muff shots … one was during a lezbo scene and the other was just a straight-up Mississippi Muff Shot), did I mention the dragon-lady?!?!

My favorite characters from the first seez were definitely the Dothrakis, these barbarian-type dudes who rarely spoke and ate people’s spleens. Their leader, the main (and biggest) Dothraki, was right up there with some of my all-time favorite non-speaking big guys. Such as:

This guy from Superman II:

How many gyros has this guy eaten in real life?

The Chief from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest:

Jack's hair looks amazing here. 

And Kamala the Ugandan Headhunter:

From parts unknown! ... I mean, Uganda!


One major thread from the first season was that “winter is coming,” which is a really big deal because winter only comes like once every 40 years in Game of Frones world. And when it comes, boyyyyyyyy, you best be wearin' your long underwears! The old-heads who have lived long enough to remember the last winter talk about it like it’s INSANE, while the young dudes are like, “I ain’t scared of winter! I will fuck a swordfish in the butt!” 

For the record, I’d like to state that I absolutely love wearing long underwear and feel so gypped that I only got to wear it once this past winter. I also can’t believe that Hanes or Nike has yet to market George Gervin "Ice Man" long underwear. They could make it look like the Spurs warmup pants!

Iceballs! ... (one of my high school nicknames)


So yeah, there’s this one kid -- he's around 11 or 12 -- whose mother is insane (like mentally ill) and he just sits on her lap and sucks on her titties. It’s really really weird (and that’s comin’ from a guy who is totally cool with A LOT of stuff).


You know the dwarf, you’ve seen him, you know who I'm talkin 'bout! Stop playing dumb!


How do you not watch this show?!?!
And how have I still not blogged about Ice Loves Coco?!?!


I'd like to use this spot down here to pay my respects to two dudes who passed away earlier this week: boxing journalist, Bert Sugar, and banjo legend, Earl Scruggs. I have forced my wife to sit through countless boxing documentaries and if not for Bert Sugar's passionate storytelling, my wife probably would've fallen asleep midway through all of 'em. Scruggs (or "Scruggles" as I call him) wrote the book on the banjo (literally, like I'm currently using his book to teach myself how to play the banjo) and without his guidance, my wife woulda smashed my banj into pieces long ago. So tonight when you're sippin on some sizzurp, tip a little out for my main men, Bert and Earl ... orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, you know what, just do it. 

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Wednesday's (not yet) Wifey: Lena Dunham from HBO's Girls

This woman may be responsible for the end of this blog. 

Saw a brilliant movie the other day. Like a truly brilliant movie. And not "brilliant" in the way that British people often diminish the word, like:

"Hey, I got some saltines."

"Oh, cool. Did you get the low-salt ones, or the regular ones?"

"The regular ones."

"Aw, brilliant."

No, more like:

"Hey, I saw this brilliant movie the other day. Yeah, it was so well-written and the dialogue was so natural that I realized that I have no chance of ever becoming a writer. I mean, what's the point when there's people out there who are so much smarter and more creative than I am? I'm actually thinking of ending this blog immediately. I also might kill myself."

"Aw, brilliant."

That kinda brilliant.

The movie's called Tiny Furniture, a black comedy written, directed and starring Lena Dunham, this week's Wednesday (not yet) Wifey. If you haven't heard of Lena Dunham, you will soon. Because besides making an absolutely brilliant movie and sucking my confidence dry, her new show Girls premieres on HBO this April 15th.

Let's look at some pictures of Lena and learn more about the heroine who could finally put this dogshit blog to rest.

Tiny Furniture is one of those movies where nothing really happens. It's a subtle, dialogue-driven, hilarious, sad, subtle, dark, heartwarming, depressing, subtle, wonderful film. It's just like Passover seder at my mother's house, except Passover lacks the whole subtle, hilarious, heartwarming, wonderful part. Last year, my father ate four pieces of gefilte fish and then shit his pants.

Lena cast her real-life mother and sister as her mother and sister in the movie. Her mom is kind of an Angelica Houston/Ethel Tenenbaum-type. Her sister is very tall and very talented. My mother hasn't stopped talking since 1974. My brother has heard of Houston.

Tiny Furns won the best narrative feature at South by Southwest in 2010 and is now part of the Criterion Collection which means that it's right up there with Air Bud. Lena was 23 when she made the film. When I was 23, my biggest accomplishment was making the playoffs in Madden with Chris Wienke as my starting quarterback (Carolina). We went 10-6 and earned a wildcard berth. This remains my proudest accomplishment to date, closely followed by the time that I almost read an entire paragraph without moving my lips. Third was sitting on the subway next to a guy who didn't have any feet.

Here's the cast of Tiny Furniture, all regular-looking people, except for that one lady second from the left who kinda looks like Claire Danes. My friend Feddd looks like Bob Saget. Lena's mom is also holding her clutch EGGS-ZACT-LY the way that you're supposed to hold a football. I am so embarrassed that I just called a pocketbook a clutch.

When you make some noise at South by Southwest, people like Judd Apatow get excited. And when people like Judd Apatow get excited, they ask you to collaborate on a project for HBO. Last week, my friend Loaves asked me to collaborate with him on a screenplay. It's about a guy who doesn't have feet. It's called Foot Man (thinking of reworking the title).

This is a screenshot from Girls, Lena's and Judd Apatow's new show on HBO. It's supposed to be sort of like Sex and the City, but without all the annoying stuff that made Sex and the City the worst show in the history of television. So basically it's nothing like Sex and the City. It's about some 20-something chicks in New York City who are trying to figure stuff out and have sex and eat sandwiches. I would stab Miranda if I ever saw her.

Now that Lena's famous, she gets to be on panels where she talks to people about stuff. See those table-tents in front of her with people's names on them? Yeah, some person had to make those. I know this because I used to have to make those. People get angry when you spell their name wrong.

I don't know if I made it clear enough that this movie is absolute genius. It gets the TV My Wife Watches Level 9 Stamp of Approval Stamp (limited edition). So watch the first scene of Tiny Furns below and decide for yourself. Or just check out this picture of a dog driving a car.

I call him Doggie Guy.

DVR ALERT: Tiny Furniture is on TONIGHT at 10:20pm on the Sundance channel. So tape that shit! Or watch it, it's not like there's anything else on at 10 o'clock. All right, all right, here's another picture of a dog driving a car. 

Mad Men: Matthew Weiner Really is a Weiner

You can tell that's a fake baby, because look, that's actually a chicken arm. 

If you missed part I of the TV My Wife Watches Super-Platinum-Mega-Rocket-Gold-Mad-Men-Premiere blogpost, read it here. Jim Nantz and Clark Kellogg broke down the Draper’s sex scene. Really riveting stuff. If you read it already, God bless you.

Onto part II!

Besides a sex scene where a woman stuck her butt eight feet in the air, the first episode of this season was kind of a snooze.

Yeah yeah, I know, they're setting stuff up, and it's not like I was expecting kamikaze explosions, but I was looking for a little more action besides a self-inflicted nose bleed.

But more disappointing than the lack of action (or the tons of commercials or Harry Crane's sudden weight loss), was the fact that my favorite character is ruined. Joan -- television's preeminent sexpot* -- had a stupid baby.

And she named her stupid baby, Kevin.

Yeah, Kevin.

As in, "Oh hey, meet my son. His name is Kevin."

Now, I'm not one to judge people's dumb names, but that's a dumb name. And that’s coming from a guy who basically has that same name, but without the “kuh” sound.

What kinda person names their child, Kevin?!?! What kinda person is so out of touch with reality that they go and name their stupid baby something stupid like Kevin?!?!?

I'll tell ya what kind: a new mom.

Probably the only cool Kevin, but no one actually calls him, "Kevin." They call him "The Kevilator!"

New moms (especially first-time moms) have long been some of civilization's most irrational creatures. They're sleep deprived, their hormones are freakin' out, they're obsessed with naps, they rarely shower, they watch the Today Show, and they constantly post pictures on Facebook of their sons wearing shirts that say stuff like, "Save the Date for Freddy's Bar Mitzvah, 2025!" They're completely and totally out of their minds.  

And I'm not blaming new moms!

I know it's not your fault new moms!

It's science!

And it's not your fault that my favorite character is going to spend this entire season weeping.

It's Matthew Friggin' Weiner's fault.


The worst thing is, this shouldn't have been surprising! I knew Joan was gonna have a stupid baby and I knew that her life would change, but I didn't realize that it would have such ramifications. On their list of priorities, having rugged sex with people at work is not at the top of any new mom's lists. Taking care of their stupid baby and making sure he doesn't barf all over the place is. And it's disappointing!

I guess the silver lining is that now Joan has milk boobs and may be so lonely and desperate that she'll be up for having sex with anyone and everyone. And also that she hates being a mom. But it's not the same. And it'll never be the same.

I guess maybe after all, I was looking forward to some explosions. I was looking forward to seeing Joan's boobs explode all over Lane's stupid face. Quick question: if a new mom's boobs explode, does milk just splatter all over the place?

It probably does, right?

This guy knows about Zou Bissou Bissou ...

Absolutely unacceptable that EVERY ONE of my wife's shows airs on Sundee nights: Mad Men, Eastbound and Down, Life's Too Short, and then starting this weekend, Game of Frones AND the Killing. No idea what we're gonna do. I'll tell ya what you should do, read this article about Mad Men by Chuck Klosterman that is so articulate and thought out that it makes me never want to attempt to write anything ever again. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, just check out Cookie Monster being hilarious.

Apologies to Diane Sawyer and every Russian dancer (male and female) on Dancing with the Stars.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Mad Men: Jim Nantz and Clark Kellogg Break Down Don and Megan Draper's Sexcapade

Get over yourself, lady. 

In honor of March Madness, I’ve asked my good friends Jim Nantz and Clark Kellogg to give their thoughts on last night’s Don Draper/Megan sexcapade.

JIM NANTZ: Thanks Ev. Well Clark, despite the 17-month layoff, Don Drapes went right back to work with a vintage Draper-Destroy-job.

CLARK KELLOGG: He certainly did, Jim. The guy is a consummate pro. At first when Megan refused to let him have his way, he seemed to be a little off his game, but then he took over like only Double D can.

JIM NANTZ: Nice gameplan by the young Mrs. Draper though, trying to tease and taunt the 40-year-old veteran.

CLARK KELLOGG: I certainly enjoyed it, Jim. When the sex scene started off, I thought it was a great strategy for her to just put her butt in the air and make Don watch. In fact, I would’ve liked for her to hold out longer than 15 seconds. Seemed like she had Don on the ropes for a sec. But Don Draper doesn’t sit back in a zone and watch, Jim. He attacks.

JIM NANTZ: And attack he did. Surprised that he went with the hair-pull, Clark?

CLARK KELLOGG: Not at all. That’s a Draper trademark. He’s been utilizing that move for years on school-teachers, heroin addicts, you gotta wonder why more young fellas are not adding that move to their tool box. I think the only one who ever defended and shut down Don’s hair-pullage was the former Mrs. Draper. And look where that got her.

JIM NANTZ: Ya think the new Mrs. Draper will last, Clark?

CLARK KELLOGG: Well, she’s got moves Jimbo. She showed that last night by getting Don into a Louisiana Leg-Wrap. That’s a lot harder than it looks. And the whole “Zou-bisou bisou” thing was unlike anything else we’ve ever seen.

JIM NANTZ: I think she’s got no chance. Well, that’s it from out here at the Midwest regional. Let’s send it back to the Evster at the TV My Wife Watches studio.

EVSTER: Actually, you guys are doing a pretty good job, I’d like to keep this going. Please, continue.

JIM NANTZ: You got it, Kevin. Clark, I’ll tell ya one guy who would’ve loved to sit back and watch Megan Draper go to work … Lane.

CLARK KELLOGG: He’s a dirty dog, Jim. But we knew that already. Remember, this is the same guy that went after that black chick at the Playboy club.

JIM NANTZ: You can’t find that in England.

CLARK KELLOGG: Actually, you can. But there is definitely something different about a black chick from America and a black chick from Britain.

JIM NANTZ: Tell me about them, Clark. I’ve only dated white women.

CLARK KELLOGG: You haven’t lived, Jim.

JIM NANTZ: I know I haven’t.

Look how wrinkled that guy's pants are behind them!

Betty don't play.

More to come later from TVMWW regarding last night's premiere of Mad Men ... I just wanted to get something posted as soon as poss, because my friend Loaves chastised me this morning -- saying, "Nobody is gonna care by tomorrow. This is the internet!"

Thursday, March 22, 2012







Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Wednesday's Wifey: Christina Hendricks from Mab Membs

Pic courtesy of

Prepare for a new era of TV My Wife Watches!

With the Bach in our rearview mirror, it's time to start blogging about breasts and butts from respectable, dramatic television programs. Mad Men returns this Sunday, back on the air for the first time since October, 2010. It's been so long that I honestly can't remember what was going on in this show. Did Don Drapes marry his secretary? Did Joan have an aborsh? Is Cooper dead? I kind of remember him dying. I honestly have no idea. But I do know that seventeen months is way too long to have to wait for Christina Hendricks to be Wednesday's Wifey. I also know that my head almost exploded while googling pictures to use for this post.

Let's see what this lady is all aboot ... shout-out to Canada ... she's not from Canada.

Here's X-tina standing with a man who looks to have no idea how to act, dress or fit into modern-day society. According to Wikipedia, this man is her husband, but that can't possibly be true. I think this guy is a famous cellist. Or possibly a monkey-man.

Monkey-man looks a little more put together here, it's nice that they dressed him up in a tuxed-JESUS CHRIST ... IT'S LIKE THEY'RE EXPLODING OUT OF HER DRESS! Why would AMC keep this show off the air for SEVENTEEN months?!?!

I admit that I don't know a lot about human (or monkey) anatomies, BUT HER BOOBS ARE GOING TO EXPLODE!



Monkey-men are really good at carrying things, like bananas or banana-colored bags of enormous bras that their monkey-handlers ask them to carry. It's nice that Christina is holding her monkey-man's hand so he doesn't get scared. Sometimes monkey-men get scared. I want to watch Christina give birth to a baby.

Looks like a totally normal picture. Just a lady and a monkey-man enjoying a wedding reception. But if you look closely at Christina -- specifically her exploding boobs -- you'll see THAT HER BOOBS ARE GOING TO EXPLODE!

I've been to A LOT of weddings and I've NEVER sat with anybody with explodo-boobs (OR a monkey-man). The last wedding I went to, some guy went around and shook hands with our entire table in an attempt to sell us mutual funds. "Hey, how ya doin? Brian Labaterra. Hey there, good to meet ya, Brian Labaterra. Hi there. Brian. Brian Labaterra. Brian Labaterra, how are ya? Brian Labaterra. Brian Labaterra."



The internet is filled with women who dressed up as Joan for Halloween. This woman (who could be cute if she wasn't making the weirdest face ever) just so happens to be making the weirdest face ever.

This lady is making a slightly less-weird face, but is VERY aggressive. Also, that woman behind her (in the pink dress), take a look, her back kind-of looks like her front!

This lady has her own blog -- Polka Dot Overload -- where she tells people how to dress up like Joan.


Here's a photo from Christina's high school yearbook. Apparently teenagers aren't allowed to smile. I can't stop staring at the blonde dude in the front row, all the way on the left. Look at his sweater ... THAT'S A DOGGIE I THINK ... AND I ALSO THINK "HE" MIGHT BE A "SHE" ... now I feel bad.

Those are really nice dresses and really nice shoes. 

I know that because I have my finger on the pulse of women's fashion.

I also once sold women's shoes during one summer in college. It was secretly amazing. 

Mad Men starts this Sundee night with a TWO HOUR PREMIERE. If you forget what the people of Sterling Cooper Draper Price are up to, I recommend going back and reading all of my Mad Men posts from last seez, found here. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, check out these sneaks that I almost bought today ... don't tell my wife! 

Monday, March 19, 2012

Frozen Planet: We're Entering Level 9 Bonkers Status

This guy will eat your face. 


EXTERIOR SHOT: Somewhere Absolutely Friggin' Beautiful
(example: Norway, Iceland, NOT PHILADELPHIA)

A really cute animal does something adorable (plays with his friends, eats a leaf, falls over). Another cute animal lurks close by (also being cute), but is hungry for blood. The blood-hungry guy gets some of his friends together, devises a simple and devious plan and traps the little cute guy. The little cute guy looks around for his mother and then gets fucking destroyed by the other guys. The other guys eat the little guy and get the little guy's blood and guts all over their nice, white coats (and feet).

Rinse and Repeat.

This is the formula for the Discovery Channel's Frozen Planet, the new nature show from the people who made Planet Earth.

Oh, you know, just a penguin blasting out of some ice while another penguin walks by. 

Frozen Planet is frickin' bonkers. Last night, they showed glacial rivers thawing out in Antarctica, elephant seals stabbing each other in the neck and a caterpillar turn into a moth. They actually followed the caterpillar around for five years. Let me just repeat that last line for those of you who don't understand bonkersness when you see it ... THEY FOLLOWED A FUCKING CATERPILLAR AROUND FOR FIVE YEARS.

It honestly makes me angry at how incredible this show is. HOW DO YOU FOLLOW A CATERPILLAR AROUND FOR FIVE YEARS? I'm 34 years old and I still don't understand how a telephone works. You're telling me that if I pick up a metal object and push a few buttons, I can talk to someone in Denmark?! Cell phones I can at least kind of understand ... the signal leaves your little phone, bounces off a satellite and ends up in Copenhagen. But a landline?!?! Especially an overseas landline?!?!

Frozen Planet gets the first-ever TV My Wife Watches Triple Platinum Boner Approval Rating.

I will watch this show anytime, anywhere. The only negative (and it's a big one!) is that it's realllllllllly depressing. I wish the animals could all just be friends (instead of stabbing one other and eating each other's chests).

Thank you and have a blessed day.

If you like furry animals that don't eat each other, I'd recommend watching Too Cute! Kittens. Or if you like cheesesteaks, check out this place

Thursday, March 15, 2012

The Ides of March Madness are Upon Us!

My wife is wayyyyyyy into Alabama Head Coach, Anthony Grant. 

My picks: Kentucky, Mizzou, Ohio State and Georgetown.

With Mizzou knocking off the Buckeyes in the finals!

My wife's picks: Kentucky, Mizzou, Syracuse and UNC.

With Kentucky beating 'Cuse ... at least, that's what she had before Fab Melo got suspended. I honestly haven't talked to her in like, three days.

Click this jawn to see my picks, dawg!

And this is my wife's brack. 

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

The Bachelor Finale: a Running Diary

I could really go for some onion rings. 

The following is a running diary recorded from that fateful night of March 12, 2012, aka the day that Ben Flajnik officially staked his claim as the biggest nimrod in the history of the world.

6:15pm - As I ride home from work on the subway, my excitement in anticipation of the Bachelor finale is surpassed only by my excitement that my wife is making cheese fondue tonight. Seconds later, this excitement is slightly surpassed by the fact that I just remembered that the defending champion on Jeopardy has really big boobs, and then that excitement is greatly surpassed when I remember that the NCAA Tournament starts tomorrow night.

6:20 - The excitement of all of those things is then surpassed by my desire to take my pants off when I get home. It's 70 DEGREES TODAY and I can't stop sweating. Especially because the guy standing next to me on the subway IS RIGHT IN MY GRILL, but also because I'm wearing a sweater. That's really an aptly named article of clothing. I'd karate chop this guy in the ribs, but I don't know karate and he's black.

I really really really want Courtney to win tonight, like really really, but I'm not sure how everyone else feels, so I send a text message to a bunch of friends to hear their thoughts on who they want to win (not who they THINK is gonna win, but who they WANT).

By the time my subway ride ends, the votes have been tallied.

5 people want Lindzi, including my friend DickDog who scolds me for missing his birthday.

12 people want Courtney, led by @ThriftyRitts who asks, "Who's Lindzi?"

3 people refuse to vote, 2 people claim to not know what I'm talking about and 1 person (Philly Phoodie) chooses the champ on Jeopardy with the huge yammers.

"I'll take "DOING!" for 400 Alex."

6:59 - I walk in the door with my pants around my ankles just as the Pennsylvania lottery numbers are announced -- always exciting! Thissssss ... izzzz ... Jeopardy! And here is your host of Jeopardy, what the?! Jessamine, the defending champ is TOTALLY COVERING UP HER MARACAS! So disappointing. I really hope this is not a premonition for what's yet to come. On the bright side, I can totally devote the next hour to shoveling hot, melted swiss cheese into my mouth, which reminds me that diarrhea is probably what's yet to come.

7:58 - Here we go! Showtime! And I'm talking about the Bach, not my impending explosion. Joining me tonight at TVMWW headquarters are my wife, her brother (and his beard), his girlfriend, our friend Patty O and our next door neighbor Bridget who is REALLY PREGNANT and REALLY excited about fondue.

During the first 8 minutes or so, I jot down such thrilling notes as:

- sledding looks like fun?
- Matterhorn, that's certainly something.
- "Your son's amazing and so is your turtleneck."

Eventually, Lindzi tells us that Ben's mom Barbara is "really easy to talk to," proving that she's spent her entire life talking to horses.

Ben's sister then says that she prides herself in her ability "to judge people's character and what not." I wonder what I pride myself on? Lasting these 8 minutes without shitting my pants? Making sure I have an extra pair of underwear always within arms length? Not asking to smell Bridget's belly?

8:25 - Wow, this show really isn't that interesting, is it? I'll tell ya what's interesting, chocolate covered pretzels. As I try to get the pregnant lady off her butt to get me some, the first "WHOA!" of the evening is heard when Ben's sister reveals her really fuzzy gloves. The second "WHOA" follows shortly after when I see some sheeps!

Have you ever seen more attentive sheeps? The photographer must be holding a taco or something.

8:35 - It occurs to me that maybe I don't know what the word "vulnerable" means. Why do all of these people want to show that they're vulnerable? Whatever happened to the days of wanting a partner who was "strong" or "independent" or "more than 3 weeks diarrhea-free?"

The only place where I see a woman being "vulnerable" as a positive could be in the bedroom.

JOE:  Hey Charlie, how's that chick that you're dating?

CHARLIE:  Which one?

JOE:  The one with the rabbit-tits.

CHARLIE:  Oh, she's all right. She's kinda vulnerable.

JOE:  Nice. So you gonna try and take advantage of her?


8:37 - Flaj's mom and sister are impressed that Courtney has a job. I guess that's a quality to look for in a daughter/sister-in law. Then again, my mailman has a job, but I'm not about to sign him up to be a contestant on the Bachelorette.

8:45 - Flaj decides that the Matterhorn is the perfect place to go skiing, once again failing to realize THAT YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THAT KIND OF STUFF WHEN YOU'RE ON VACASHE! I'm sure the Swiss Alps have AT LEAST three other places to go skiing besides on the top of THE LARGEST, PRETTIEST, MOST UNNECESSARY TO SKI ON MOUNTAIN.

When I went skiing with some friends in Lake Tahoe a few years ago, my buddy Loaves had the brilliant idea to ski on the part of the mountain that was closed off. I dunno, what do you call that, out of bounds? Off-slope? Whatever, we weren't supposed to ski over there.

And as we stood atop of this ridiculously steep and icy out of bounds part, he turned to us and said, "All right. Make sure you take really long turns and take your time, this is gonna be difficult," and my buddy Abu (who has an attitude problem) was like, "You do it your way, I'll do it mine," and then forged ahead with reckless abandon. Approximately ohhhhhhhhhh, I dunno, six seconds later? Abu had smashed his helmet on a giant rock and plummetted 300 feet down the mountain on his back. About fifteen minutes after that, Abu was taken down the mountain on one of those ski-stretcher things while Loaves skied right beside him, spraying snow into his face the whole way down. (For the record, Abu was fine. And he now sells life insurance.)


8:55 - After a long day of skiing, Lindzi tells Ben that she's exhausted and Ben laughs. WHAT IS SO FRIGGIN' FUNNY?!?! SKIING IS TIRING. REALLY TIRING. Ben's probably one of those people who hates napping. Afterwards, they have a heart-to-heart and it occurs to me that I only listen to about 8% of what these people are ever talking about.

9:00 - As we reach the halfway point, my wife wants to switch her vote over to Lindzi because she feels bad for her. I tell her that it's okay for her to switch her vote because I love her and then start to feel the first REAL indications that I need to take a smash.

When I say "Fon," you say "Due!" ... Fon! ... Duder!

What you know you about Soppressata?!

9:16 - I officially have no interest in this show.

9:17 - Ben is wearing a vest. I'm back.

9:19 - It always baffles me how these people have such a hard time "putting themselves out there." What does that even mean? During my bachelor years, I don't think I ever had trouble putting myself out there. In fact, that's pretty much all I ever did was put myself out there. That was kinda my move. I would put myself out there so much that it just totally overwhelmed whomever I was dating. I became irresistible because women had no idea how to handle me. "So I'm dating this guy, Evan. He's okay, I guess. He totally puts himself out there. Last night he showed me all of his moles. And he has A LOT of moles. Then he got me drunk. Is it possible to boil bedsheets?"

9:31 - It's the day of the big proposal which means one thing and one thing only ... NEIL THE REAL DEAL LANE and his giant steamroller chest.

9:33 - That was quick. The Real Deal came on screen, gave Ben a ring, ate like seven steak dinners and then left.

Meanwhile, everyone I'm watching with is freaking out about Courtney's gloves, but I'm paying more attention to Twitter than I am to the show. This makes my wife angry. She gets really offended when I pay more attention to the computer than I do to the television program we're supposed to be watching together. I guess I see her point, but @OchoCinco is tweeting about how he rented out a restaurant in Harlem and the first 200 people who showed up got treated to a free dinner with him. I'd say that's a little more interesting than HOLY MOLEY LOOK AT THAT MATTERHORN!

9:40 - The final scene ... and poor poor Lindzi is the first to get off the helicopter. I'm sorry Lindz, but you're better off.

Ben tries to sugar coat his dumping as much as possible and I gotta tells ya, LINDZI REALLY KEEPS IT TOGETHER. She even manages to dish out a little jab at the end saying, "If things don't work out, call me," insinuating that Ben and Courtney have no shot to stay together. This is the first interesting thing that Lindzi's done on the show. Good thing she saved it for when she got dumped on a mountain.

9:53 - Blah blah blah, Courtney's wearing gloves, and there's a few patches of fake snow surrounding them.

Ben proposes. They hug. They kiss. There's a giant Matterhorn. Somewhere a sheep eats some grass. Somewhere else another sheep eats some other grass. My stomach is going to explode and then I'm going to eat more fondue.

10:45 - After the Final Rose thing, it's revealed to us that Ben dumped Courtney after seeing her antics on television, but now wants to be with her again.

I don't care. I really don't care about these two at all. If they want to be together, fine. If they wanna sell life insurance, great. Who am I to judge what they should do with their lives? I'm just a lowly blogger who's wearing his third pair of underpants of the day (which is probably the same number of pairs of underwear that I wore yesterday).

I guess that's it for this season. Sad that it's over -- mainly because our friends won't be coming over every Monday night -- but also kinda relived, because I can finally take a dumpovski.

Sort of the perfect way to end it.

I really hope we have toilet papes.

So now that the Bach is over, I hope I don't lose you as a reader. Mad Membs is starting soon and then Game of Frones. So keep checking back to TV Me Weef Wooches orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr just look at this Matterhorn poster that I kinda like. 

And also this frog dog

Sunday, March 11, 2012

The Bachelor: Before the Final Rose, Remember to Take Some Time to Stop and Smell the Elephants

That's a real haircut! 

Anytime someone is about to embark on a momentous occasion (like proposing to a woman who will soon be your ex, or watching someone propose to a woman who will soon be his ex), it’s important to sit back and reflect on how you got there. Pump the brakes, pull over and take a deep breath. So as we prepare for our final night of Bachelor viewing, let’s try to figure out how Ben ended up with a choice between a model and a lady whose last name is Cox.

Ben was just another wispy-haired winemaker until he painted a dumb elephant on a wall of an orphanage in Thailand during Ashley’s season of the Bachelorette. Remember that? Before that move (and it was totally a move!), he got less airtime than Vinny Zollo. But then Ashley got all excited because Ben was artistic, and elephants are cute, and if you can paint an elephant you MUST be sensitive, and sensitive guys are into leather, and before you know it, BOOM, Ben's the next Bachelor and JP is stuck with a lady who's passionate about orthodontics.

Women are suckers for animals. They’re cute, they’re fuzzy, and if a dude shows even the slightest interest in them, then he must be caring and disease-free. Fellas, forget about making lots of money or roofie’ing your sister’s friends, the easiest way to bang chicks is to love furry creatures.

The other day, my wife was yelling at me because I acccccccidentally set fire to our bath towels and she was all, “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” and I was like, “HE SAID HE WAS A PROFESSIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER!” and she was like, “NO, THE TOWELS!” and I was like, “OH, I WANTED TO BURN SOMETHING,” and she was like, “UGGGGHHHH, I HATE YOU!” and then I flipped the script and was like, “Oh, by the way, I saw a bunny today in our backyard,” and she was like, “Weally?” and I was like, “Yeah, his name was Leroy,” and she was like, “Oh my God! I love Leroy,” and I was like, “I’m lying, there’s no friggin’ bunnies in our backyard,” and she was like, “What’d you say?” and I was like, “I love Leroy too! He’s got bunny balls!” and then we fucked.

Single fellas, listen closely 'cause I'm about to give you The Evster’s Supremo-Dating-Tip-Numero-Uno for dudes who are trying to bone chicks who own pets:

On your first date (or really anytime you think that maybe a girl might be willing to let you take her to the boneyard), bring a present for her dog (or cat or whatever) like some dog biscuits or a squeaky toy or a bone or something. The girl will be so touched that you took the time out to show interest in her dumb pet that she’ll totally be up for it.

YOU:  Heyyyy Marcy, I’m Fred.

MARCY:  Oh, hey. You look kinda different from your picture. Is that mustard on your neck?

YOU:  Hey can you shut up for a sec? Cool. I brought some treats for your dog. They’re mustard flavored.


YOU: Yeah, so do you wanna like, take your top off now? Or like in ten minutes?

MARCY:  That is soooooooo sweet! Schwarfie! Schwarfie! Look what Ted brought you!

YOU:  It’s Fred. Doesn’t matter. So, the couch then? Should I leave my pants on the couch, orrrr ... ?

MARCY: Ohhhh, Schwarfie loves these, yes he does yes he does!

YOU:  So what kinda lube you using these days? ‘Cause I’m familiar with pretty much all of ‘em. You got Luber's? That’s prolly my personal fave. I like Vaseline brand too, but Luber's is my go-to. 

Sidenote: If the girl you’re trying to bone has a young child, it’s also imperative that you show interest, but not toooooooo much interest. If the girl you’re trying to bone has a teenage kid: if it’s a girl, just be nice. If it’s a dude, try to steal his cellphone because I guarantee he’ll have pictures of teenage girls’ beavers.

The man who gave her this doggy pack is THE SMARTEST MAN IN THE WORLD. 

I can’t really think of any reasons why Lindzie is still around besides the fact that maybe Ben's into horses (and no I don't mean sexually, and yes I do mean sexually). I guess she knows her way around a makeup counter too, but that’s not really an attractive quality. In fact, I’d say that along with South Detroit and Wildwood, New Jersey, the makeup section in Macy’s could be the scariest place on this planet.

Courtney has made it this far for one reason and one reason only: she knows how to suck the cum out of a man’s cock. And I’m sorry, I really am, BUT LET’S KEEP IT REAL HERE. I’d love to write a blog that was “acceptable for work” or “interesting to read,” but if we want to really analyze how we got here, we gotta accept the truth, Ruth (my mother’s name, and kinda weird/somewhat fitting that she’s mentioned in this paragraph).

I'm really not sure who Ben's gonna pick. I hope he picks Courtney, but then again, I kinda hope he picks Neil Lane.

How many steak dinners do you think he eats in a day? Six? I'd say six.

I'd watch her on Jeopardy.

Reminder, before the Bach, I highly recommend watching Jeopardy and the defending champ with the huge yarbos ... and after the Bach is the After the Final Rose jawn which is always fun too ... or you could skip both of them and check out this cool photo project where the photographer superimposed cheap souvenirs of famous tourist attractions over the places themselves. 

Before You Watch the Bach Finale, I Highly Highly Highly Recommend Checking Out the Boobs on the Reigning Jeopardy Champ

You can't tell from this pic, but they're honestly RI-DONK.

Starting Tuesday night with Western Kentucky vs. Mississippi Valley St (shout out Jerry Rice!), millions of Americans will go berzerker for college basketball players they’ve never even heard of.

But why wait til Tuez? If you tune into Jeopardy on Mondee night before the Bach, you can join me in going absolutely bonkers for the current 2-day returning champ, Jessamine, and her ENORMOUS CANNONS. 

Even my wife was blown away (and she’s the daughter of a plastic surgeon!) when she laid eyes on Jess's rim-rockers. Now, I don’t know much more about her – I missed the portion on Friday’s interview portion of the show – but I do know that I'll be rooting for her and her ridiculous yams a thousand times harder than I will for motherfreakin' Vinny Zollo.

I mean, clearly this shot is getting rejected, right?

Super Fan @MrsHart06 Rocks her TVMWW T-Shirt


Like Meg's shirt?

Hand drawn by a world renowned blogger/grilled cheese maker. Only 15 smackaroos! (Willing to barter too. Also willing to haggle!)

Check out the rest of the TVMWW t-shirts here, including this jawn I just made for my friend @ThriftyRitts. She said she "might" wear it to the gym ... or at home!

The books are on fire! ... 'Cause they're boring!

I will seriously make you whatever shirt you want.

Now that the Knicks are relevant again, I just made my wife this bad boy:

Extra wrinkles!
Looks so friendly!
Son of an art teacher!

NBA logo stitched in (not stitched).

Soon (read: maybe soon?), I hope to have a whole t-shirt page on this site so you can buy stuff / order whatever TVMWW t-shirt or throwback jersey you want. Like this Real Madrid Mesut Özil jersey that I made in a parking lot before a game:

Now that's what I called wrinkled, volume 14!

If you want a shirt, or to unsubscribe from TV My Wife Watches in perpetuity, just send me an email at or just talk to me when you see me sleeping in the gutter!

Clyde Drex knows how to pound it!

Bachelor finale tomorrow night!

Bing bong!