Wednesday's Wifey: Vanna White

Peep the seashell earring in Vanna's right ear.
Might be a clam. Probably a clam. 

If you're not on Twitter, then you missed out my 30 Wifeys in 30 Days series where I posted a pic of a different wifey every day during Novembs. Notable wives included Gina from Martin, the cast from It's a Living and blah blah blah, who gives a shit, right, I posted some stupid pics, people looked at them, some people probably jerked off, it's the internet, get over yourself. But this morning, THIS MORNING, for the #30for30 Grand Finale, I found this gem from 1980: a 23 year-old Vanna Wheezy as a contestant on the Price is Right!

#GETSERIOUS

Clearly this is an amazing picture for many, many, many reasons.

1. Get Serious.
2. Your boy in the lower lefthand corn poppin' collars like his name was Lisa Vanderpumps -- with a chest as smooth as buttermilk pie (that's not a thing).
3. Vanna's titty-tangs!

But what was Vanna really trying to say with her "Get Serious" tshirt? Was she being sarcastic? Like, "Get serious, dude. There's no way I'm going out with you. Unless you pop that collar and sandpaper your chest." Or was she getting serious and being dead serious? "Yo, I'm on the muhfuhggin Price is Reezy. Let's GET SERIOUS and GET THAT PAYPAH! This isn't a game. THIS IS NOT A FUCKING GAME! Yay-ee, yay-eeeeee!!! I got me some titty-tangs and I ain't afraid to use 'em/buttermilk bruise 'em." (no idea, absolutely no idea what I'm talking about). Or was "Get Serious" just a dumb catchphrase that was popular back in 1980?

Obviously, I needed to do some research.

Nothin' says you're ready to get sers like the motherfucking PACIFIC OCEAN.

In 1980, Jermaine Jax's album "Let's Get Serious" ROCKETED up the charts to number six in the top One Hundj (not baaad, JJ, not baaaaaaaddd). The title track on the alb was written by Stevie Wonds (which probably explains why it was JJ's biggest hit) -- and it should also be reiterated that Stevie Wonder is friggin blind and he still wrote hit songs and he ate cheeseburgers and WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE?!?!

When you take a closer look at the lyrics of "Let's Get Serious," everything kinda starts to come together. The song starts off with this:

Close my eyes and I see your face at night.
Toss and turn, fall asleep, holding my pillow tight.
All the time I think of you
You're with me no matter what I do.

Dude's humpin' his pillow.

DUDE IS HUMPING HIS PILLOW.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. I longggggggggg for the days when I used to hump my pillow (and ladies, let it be known, most dudes used to hump their pillows). Yes, by the time you've reached your late teens / mid 30's you've switched over to the traditional jerk-it and twerk-it method, but prior to that (when you're still figuring out how to use your dork), dudes dry hump everything. Your pillow, your comforter -- my friend Rice Daddy once told us that he fucked his boxspring. Dude fucked his boxspring! To this day, I have no idea what he was talking about. I think he took his bed and somehow created some sort of ultra-supersonic-pillow-cushion-system between his mattress and boxspring, but no one really knows for sure. What we do know is that Rice Dad is a SICK PERSON and VERY, VERY, VERY INNOVATIVE.

Batting glove on the top hand?
SO SERIOUS.

Bake McBreezy was killin 'em in 1980!

I on the other hand was only 3 years old and was still trying to figure out how to use my 3-year-old dork (which was friggin' dynamite by the way). I don't know if I was humping anything yet (I was probably humping stuff), but I know for sure that was pissing alllllllllll over toilet seats everywhere and was DEAD serious about it.

These days, "Get Serious" has a whole different meaning. For examp, there's a "Get Serious!" pet stain remover product:

There's so many words on those bottles! 

And then there's this dicknose:

He could be a perfectly nice human being. I'm sorry.

The bottom line is, Vanna had it goin' onnnnnnn in 1980 ... but it's not 1980 anymore. It's Two Thousand Something -- and it's time to Get Cereal about your health.

It's honestly not terrible.

Cracklin' Oat Briz is filled with all kinds of nutrients that you need when you're in your thirties, like bran, and oats, and it pretty much just has those two things, but you need those two things! So go get yourself some Cracklin' Oat Bran at an oat bran provider near you.

Tell 'em the Evster sent ya.











There was really no reason to put that Cam'Ron jawn up there, I just heard it the other day and it's prolly the greatest song ever. So check it out. Or you could always follow me on Twitter so you don't have to miss out on all types of ill isht. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, just check out Cam Newts and his fiancee. 

TV on Wednesday, Nov. 29: As it Happened

They're gonna get pneumonia!

Last night in TV land, there was a whirlwind of activity during the 8 o'clock hour -- a Charlie Brown Christmas, Thunder vs. Rockets, a show called EXTREME COUGAR WIVES??? -- enough programming to make even the most loving couples get divorced. Luckily my wife had to write a paper, giving me complete and total control of the remote. The following is what transpired.

7:52 - As my wife and I sit down to eat dinner (a bonkers lamb lasagna that deserves a blorgpost of its own), Darrie accidentally knocks over a chair and bashes it against our freshly painted dining room wall, leaving a huge black mark. She lets out a groan, then grabs a sponge and furiously tries to scrub the paint off the wall. Seeing that my wife is frustrated, vulnerable and has her back turned to me, I whip out my phone, check my Twitter feed and see this:

7:54 - "Wow, you sure ate fast." ... "Yeah, hungry," ... I shoot up, eager to check out my #1 stunna, and leave my wife's plate of lasagna at the cold, sad, lonely table. (Foreshadowing alert?!? I'm not actually sure what foreshadowing is.) As I rinse off my dirty dish, Dar continues to scrub away at the wall, quietly muttering to herself, "I am never having children. I am never having children. I am never having children."

7:58 - 8:09 - Somehow I get distracted by a humongous pile of chocolate chip cookies and completely forget about the fact that the love of my life is about to perform on national television. Then for some reason I start doing the dishes -- I HAVE NO IDEA WHY, I WAS IN SOME SORT OF CHOCO CHIP COOKIE HAZE -- and before I know it, it's 10 minutes past 8 and I might have missed my sweet, round, sexy, dirty, disgusting, wholesome, little angel. I sprint into the living room, stub my toe on an ottoman, drop my cookie and briefly think about burning my house down.

8:10 - I friggin' missed her. I friggin' missed Mariah. There's gotta be some gasoline in this house somewhere. And now some young nobody (who is wearing very elaborate fishnet stockings which I totally appreciate) is singing some dumb song about some dumb holiday that I don't even get to celebrate/complain about. I don't know what it is about fishnets -- they're clearly ridiculous, I mean they're designed to catch fish! -- but they're still somehow super duper hot.

Just this morning I was riding in an elevator with a very, very, very moderately-attractive, non-extreme cougar-looking lady wearing fishnets and I tried to make eyes at her, but she never glanced in my direction, not once. Probably too intimidated by my overall aura / the smell of Johnson and Johnson's baby powder permeating from my everywhere.

Dude, I'm a friggin dirty Jew and I know that that tree sucks. 

8:13 - Flip over to Charlie Brown, possibly the most depressing character in the history of Western Civilization -- poss even more depressing than Kim Richards! I mean, does anything ever work out for this guy? Forget about the fact that he's balding at such a young age and that everyone pretty much hates him ALL THE TIME, he can't even kick a goddamn football! I've seen dogs kick footballs! (Seriously, I've seen dogs kick footballs. It's amazing. I've also seen them try to retrieve the football, bite the football and pop the football! It's sort of sad!) I quickly realize that I've never actually seen the end of this Charlie Brown special -- it has to end in a murder suicide, right?

8:20 - COMMERCIAL FOR LES MISERABLES, THE MOVIE?!?!?

OH MON DIEU!!!

Look, I've never actualllyyyyy had sex with a man, like bent a man over and had sexes with him, or had a man bend me over and jam his gurbler inside of me, but I will TOTALLY see this movie on opening nizzight. You have not lived until you've driven down the New Jerzey Turnpike and BLASTED LES MIZ LIKE A MUHFUGGAH! Who am I-eyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeee? Who am I-EYYYYEEEEEEEEE??? TWO, FOUR, SIX, OH, ONNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

8:28 - Back to the Xmas special and still no sign of a Mariah encore. SAD FOR ME. But now there's these three Italian teenage tenors (like, actual Italians from Italy, not that fake South Philly bullisht-kind) belting out "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year," but instead of singing "marshmallows for toasting" they keep singing "marshmallow for toasting" which I find absolutely hilarious. I kinda feel bad laughing at people who are trying to sing IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE, but there's party for hosting, marshmallow for toasting and I LOVE THEM.

L to R: Puberino, Gooberino and a kid who's going to
contract many, many, many sexually transmitted diseases.  

8:32 - SPOILER ALERT: A Charlie Brown Christmas has a happy ending. Apparently everyone buys Chuck a tree and he doesn't kill himself. I kinda feel like that's a bit far-fetched. Maybe Charlie would enjoy life a little more if he were dead. Kinda like that lady's husband from Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. I feel like he won out on that deal.

8:37 - Scotty McCreery? Lip syncing? Good grorf.

8:45 - I cannot watch three seconds of the Thunder-Rockets game without checking Twitter on my phone. I HAVE A PROBLEM. Twitter could be the most addictive technological invention ever, right behind Johnson and Johns baby powds.

That being said, I feel like I'm really connecting with this idiot:

8:47 - Literally every time I try to check out Extreme Cougaring, it's a commersh. I wonder if Lisa Vanderpumps and that new lady from RHW of Beverly Hills are on that show? And is it amazing how Vanders is going popped collar ALL DAY E'ERY DAY? And how bonkers is that new lady's refrigerator?!?! I just wanna live in a house where when I open my freezer, 37 boxes of Amy's tofu mac 'n cheese don't fall onto my feet. It hurts my feet!

8:52 - Somehow, despite the fact that I'm trying to watch 14 different television programs, every single one of them is constantly on a commersh. The Thunder-Rockets game just had an ad for blackpeoplemeet.com (I'm being sers!), which for a Jewish guy with a mediocre jump-shot is probably the greatest site ever. I immediately start working on my profile, but have a hard time deciding on a screenname. The three finalists are: Darryl Maze, Willie Dawkins and Tha Pussy Predatahhhh.

(I have to apologize to those 11 of you who actually follow me on Twitter. That was a recycled Twitter joke that I used last night when I actually saw the commersh. That being said, around 85% of all of this isht on this blog-blog is recycled. My template is pretty standard: "My wife said this, I did this, titties, titties, boobs, dicks. Balls also.")

I'd like to meet both of thems! How smooth is his neck?!

8:54 - Mariahhhhhhhhh! She's back to close out the rear of the show! (Innuendo alert? Clearly I don't know what an innuendo is.) Smart move by the Communists at NBC (not sure what Communism is) to hold her out for the last five minutes. My girl looks stunning, in a silver dress that may or may not be fitted for a buffalo. She sings some song I've never heard of, but it doesn't matter, I spend the whole time looking at her cherry red nails and Charlie Brown tits. Even my wife joins me for the finale, sitting on a pile of crumbs that I may or may not nibble off of her butt once the performance is over.

What a glorious night of television. Merry Wednesday to all, and to all a good nobage!





This lady I work with says I should put some gifs into my blog-blog. I don't know about you, but I kind of think they're super annoying/distracting when you're trying to read! Although, I did see this amazing one this morning. Also, my friend CK (never met him) recently started a tumblr site where he just posts pics of sharks. It's called Finstagram and it's fantastic. Check it out here. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, check out this unbelievable dude rowing a boat with his foot.

Ben and Kate: My Wife's New Favourite (yup, Favourite) Show

I know, it looks like the lamest show ever, BUT IT'S NOTS.

You should see people's reactions when I try to talk to them about the new Fox sitcom, Ben and Kate. Most roll their eyes, some make a little pfft noise with their mouth, my friend Chicken simply looked at me, pulled out her cellphone and started scrolling through it.

Thanks, Chickster.

You would think: "Hey, this guy has a blog about television and a relatively decent sense of humour and only three less Twitter followers than he had yesterday, maybe he'd know about little something about new sitcoms," but noooooooooooo, Chickie couldn't be bothered to listen to her ole pal The Evster talk about his wife's new FAVOURITE SHOW.

But Chickster doesn't know isht about isht. Ben and Kate is a good show. Like, a really, really, really good show. It's funny, it's quirky, it's well-written, the characters are sweet and nice-looking and why am I even bothering to convince you? It doesn't matter if you watch. It's not like you ever watch any of the stuff I tell you to watch, anyway. How many of you watched Tiny Furniture? Maybe three? Mayyybbeeee three? (That's actually not bad, and I appreciate the three people who did watch. Shout out to Rod, Jonny Hi-Tops and Wibber.) Honestly, do you even watch the videos at the end of these posts? What do you ever do for TVMWW? Do you chime in in the comments sectsh? Do you retweet my jawns on Twitter? Would it kill you to send me one little email from time to time to let me know that you're reading? "Hey Ev, I watched that Ken Burns documentary that you tweeted about. It was so boring I fell asleep on my dog's dick." Would it kill you to do that?!

WOULD IT KILL YOU TO DO THAT???

I don't know why I write this thing.

Here's the basic gist of Ben and Kate: This goofy dude (Ben) moves in with his little sister and single mom (Kate) to help her raise her daughter (Whatsherface). Ben also has an eccentric black-guy best friend (Tommy) and Kate works with a hilarious, slutty British lady (BJ). I know, I know, that sounds like the lamest sitcom in the history of sitcoms. Also the little girl is not nearly as cute as Alf. Let me continue.

This is Dakota Johnson. She plays Kate. Remember that Johnson part, because in a little bit I'm gonna blow your mind. And yeah, yeah, she looks like your standard white lady, but sometimes she wears really red lipstick and she's a really good actress and she used to be a model and why am I still trying to convince you???

I HATE YOU ALL!!!

This is Dakota Johns back when she was a model. Kinda looks like Khaleesi, right?

(For the rec, this might actually be Khaleesi. I've never been known to do the most accurate research when searching for pics.)

But check this out: guess who Kate's parents are in real life?

BOOM, BABY!

The late, great Don Johns (he's not dead) and his ex-wife, Melanie Grorfiths!

Look how happy and alive and in love the young couple was (and how much Melanie looks like Drew Barrymores.) Once again, not the most accurate researcher in the biz, this very well could be Drew Barrymorbs. 

Here's Don Johns and another lady who the Internet says is Melanie Griffs even though she looks nothing like Melanie Griffs. I mean, is that Melanie Griffs? I honestly have no idea. What I do know is that Don Johns definitely has potato nips. (source: PotatoNips.com)

Back to Ben and Kate. Obviously, just by looking at this guy's face (this is Ben by the way) you can tell he's hilarious. My wife's friend Coco says she can't watch the show because this guy's teeth are too messed up. That's messed up. This guy in real life (Nat Faxon) won the Academy Award for Best Screenplay after writing The Descendants. I never saw that movie, but I did watch four hours of the latest Ken Burns documentary. It was equal parts fascinating and borrrrinnnnnggggggg. 

This is Ben's best friend, Tommy (aka the token black dude).

If I ever tried to rock this outfit that Tommy's wearing, Chicken would probably kick me right in the nips. This past weekend, I actually went and bought a pair of those non-baggy jeans that everyone's wearing these days and I feel so self-conscious walking around in 'em. They're slim, and they're straight and my dork presses right up against the front. I kinda love 'em.  

This was Tommy before he was famous (not that he's now that famous, but he's more famous than you are. Not that being famous is important, but it does bring with it a nice paycheck and when you have a nice paycheck you can buy cocaine and then you can have sex with women. So that's nice for him.) It's amazing what a pair of glasses, an afro and a Fox budget can do for a person. It's also amazing when you walk into a meeting at work and all your female coworkers' eyes go straight to your dork.

This is Lucy Punch (real name). She plays BJ. You've probably seen her before in some stuff. She's British and OH MY GOD I ACTUALLY JUST LOOKED UP AT THIS PICTURE.

Now are you gonna watch?

THEY'RE EXPLODING.

Go ahead, I know you wanna. I know you wanna move closer to the screen to see if there's a potato nip slip.

(There's not. I just spent ohhhhhhhh, I dunno, ten minutes checking for some potatoes? There's none. Sad.)

Hellloooooooo PotatoNips.com!

Sad!

Bottom line: this show is definitely worth watching and Don Johns and Melanie Griffs definitely used to have Ken Burns-style four-hour bone-sessions.

Then again, I'm guessing that Antonio Banderas also knows his way around the boneyard -- so that's nice for Melanie.

HOW GOOD ARE POTATO CHIPS!!!

Potato chips seriously are amazing. My favourites are the Grandma Utz jawns. Ben and Kate airs at 8:30 on Tuesdee nights on Fox (so it's on tonight!). You can watch clips of the show above (or click this and this), or just watch the friggin' show! Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, just look at this Far Side cartoon that pretty much gets me every time. That's what I'd do.

Movie: Behind the Scenes of Air Bud

He needs two pairs of sneakers!

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT:  Air Bud scene 32, take 1.

DIRECTOR:  Andddd, action. 

COACH:  All right guys, this is the moment you've all been waiting for. 

JOSH:  What's the play, Coach? What's the play?!

COACH:  Okay, let's run the Bark and Roll. Air Dog, I want you to run around ...

DIRECTOR: Cut! Cut!

COACH:  What happened?

DIRECTOR:  It's Air Bud. 

COACH:  What?

DIRECTOR:  The dog's name. It's Air Bud. 

COACH:  What'd I say?

DIRECTOR:  You said Air Dog. 

COACH:  Ohhhh God. Sorry. I thought his name was Air Dogs. 

DIRECTOR:  That's okay. Let's take it from the top. 

COACH:  Oh man, sorry, guys. Sorry! Sorry, everyone!

DIRECTOR:  That's all right. Places everybody!

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT:  Air Bud scene 32, take 2.

DIRECTOR: Andddd, action! 

COACH:  All right guys, the moment you've all been waiting for. 

JOSH:  What's the play, Coach? What's the play?!

COACH:  Okay, we're gonna run the Bark and Roll. Air Dog, are you listening? Air Dog?

DIRECTOR:  Cut! Cut!

COACH:  What? What happened?

DIRECTOR:  The dog's name is Air Bud. Air. Bud. 

COACH:  Air Buds?

DIRECTOR:  Air Bud. 

COACH:  I thought his name was Air Dog. 

DIRECTOR:  No. It's Air Bud. 

COACH:  Air Buds. 

DIRECTOR:  Air Bud. 

COACH:  What about Air Dog?

DIRECTOR:  We're goin' with Air Bud. All right, let's roll it again. Places! 

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT:  Air Bud scene 32, take 3.

DIRECTOR:  Andddd, action! 

COACH:  Okay guys, the moment you've alllllllll been waiting for. 

JOSH:  What's the play, Coach? What's the play?!

COACH:  All right, calm down Josh. We're gonna run the ole Bark and Roll for Air Dog. He's a dog. 

DIRECTOR:  Cut, cut, cut. Coach, c'mere Coach. 

COACH:  What's up?

DIRECTOR:  Okay, the dog's name is ...

COACH:  Air Dog. 

DIRECTOR:  Air Bud. Airrrrr Buddddd.

COACH:  Air Buds, yeah. That's what I'm ...

DIRECTOR:  You're saying Air ...

COACH:  Buds. 

DIRECTOR:  No. You're saying Air Dog. 

COACH:  And it's supposed to beeeeee ... 

DIRECTOR:  Air

COACH:  Dog. 

DIRECTOR:  Bud. 

COACH:  Bud. Bud Dog. C'mere, Bud Dog! C'mere, boy!

AIR DOG:  Ruff! 

DIRECTOR:  Someone help me. 

TRAINER:  Hi Coach, hi. I'm Barry, I'm Air Bud's trainer. 

COACH:  Hi Barrys. 

TRAINER:  All right, so the dog's name is

COACH:  Sorry, who are you again?

TRAINER:  I'm Air Bud's traner. 

COACH:  Hi. I'm Coach.

TRAINER:  Yeah, I know. See this dog here? His name is Bud. Actually, his name is Malcolm. But for this movie that we're shooting here, with all these people and lights and cameras and stuff, for this we're calling him Air Bud. Like Air Jordan. But Air Bud. 

COACH:  This dog is really good at basketball. 

TRAINER:  Thank you. So do you remember his name?

COACH:  Of course. 

DIRECTOR:  All right, let's go people. Placessss. 

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT:  Air Bud scene 32, take 4.

DIRECTOR:  Andddd, action! 

COACH:  All right Air Buds, this is the moment we've all been waiting for. 

DIRECTOR:  (Just let him go with it. Just let him go.)

JOSH:  What's the play, Coach? What's the play?!

COACH:  Good question, Jonny! Whaddya think, dog?

AIR DOG:  Ruff!

COACH:  Great idea!

DIRECTOR:  Cut!! Jesus Christ!

COACH:  What? 

DIRECTOR:  What? What? What do you mean, "What?"

COACH:  I thought that was going well. 

TRAINER:  I actually thought that was going pretty well, too. 

COACH:  I was letting Air Dog call the play. 

TRAINER:  And he called it. 

COACH:  That dog is really good at barking. 

TRAINER:  Thank you. 

COACH:  C'mere Bark Dog! 

Air Dog wags his tail and jumps up onto Coach and starts licking his face. Everybody seems happy except for Director, Charles Martin Smith, who takes a shotgun, puts it into his mouth and kills himself. 

THE DOG

Talkin Hockey (and Souvlaki) with Feddderneezy

Is that a Pittsburgh Plangers sweater?

If you've ever spent just five minutes reading TVMWW, then you know I'm a HUGE hockey-head, so today I invited my good pal and fellow ice-wrangler, Feddd, to join me to drop the gloves and discuss the NHL Lockout. 

EV:  Feddetenko, I don't know about you, but I am KEITH JONES'IN for some wristers! Not having any hockey to watch has been rough, like in the '96 'offs when Clint Galarchuck took that slapper right to his fucking throat! You know who's really suffering from the lack of hockey, though? The ST. LOUIS BLUES. I was so excited to see their new throat-slasher line of Torianov, Krobachenko and Grubenskya -- and not to mention, right winger Eddie Balflour behind the pipes!

FEDDD:  Oh man, you said it, Ev Man! Forgive the "trash talk" but if you aren't a total dyed-in-the-wool PUCK-HEAD like me then you can seriously go around the corner and die in a hot fire. Hockey is the only sport that combines everything I love: skates, ice and pads! Lotta questions will be answered this season. Can Evgeni Morkmongle continue his hot streak...or should I say COLD STREAK? Will Benny Brickfarb ever walk again? Has Alexei "The Gentleman" Flunchdild assaulted his last woman? Has anyone ever shot a puck through a whole guy? Want answers? Well, then I'll see you on the ice...the HOCKEY ICE!

EV:  I've said it before and I'll say it again: it's all about the BLUE LINE -- and no team understands that better than the Toronto Maple Lorfs. They're a first-class organyezation that has built their team around guys who shoot slappers right in other guy's throats. And it all starts up top with the man in the orange sweater, Pierre "the Poisson" Toisonne. Look, in today's Campbell Conference, you need a point man who’s not afraid to shoot a wraparounder RIGHT INTO ANOTHER GUY'S FACE (OR THROAT) ... like I dunno, someone like a young Claude Lefavbre, maybe??? Am I right, Feddds? 

FEDDD:  Right, E-Street! The formula for success in today's NHL is simple. You need one guy who can basically skate backwards full-time, one guy who does sidey-skating, and one guy who skates regular but can do really cool stops. If I were making my Dream Team, I'd have to go with Dyslexic Trevor Zezel, Geoff "The Sidewinder" Plorp, and Ol' Straighty-Forwardy Armen Beepledarder, respectively. If you don't think these three guys would win the Stanley, the Byng AND the Vezina every year, you can basically take a full-on sprint into a dog's butt and choke on it. It used to be that you also needed an enforcer like Mike "The Meat" Mott who wasn't afraid to punch a guy in the brain. But with recent rule changes designed to tame the sport, the most you can probably hope for is an "intimidator" like Little Wesley Bunting who is known mostly for throwing all three of his wives out a window.

Just sittin' on a rock.
Just the muhfuhggin Karate Kid wearing the "C" on a rock.
(IN A FULL ISLANDERS UNIFORM AND GLOVES). 

EV:  Okay, it's time for the hot ice breakdown: Quick, best penalty killer in the slot?

FEDDD:  Tough call, but I gotta go with my boy Nikolas "Nicholas Nickelby" Nickerson.

EV:  Young guy to watch this year ON THE CREASE!

FEDDD:  I'll give the nod to an up-and-comer in the Northeast Division, Tom Fuck. 

EV:  Quick line change! Favourite moment in the 1976 'offs?

FEDDD:  No-brainer, Ev. For me, it's Dave Lemieux gutting it out and playing for 3 full minutes after he was killed by a Mike Mott punch to the brain.

EV:  Man, I just can't handle one more day without seeing a guy's neck get sliced open and blood dripping out of his mangled, sweaty, hot face. I hope during this offseason, Renny, Flenny, Harksy, Flarpsy, Roatsey, Selbsy, Klegger and Ben Kweller have been keeping their blades -- and their tits -- sharp! 

The great thing about these collabo-posts is I only have to write half as much! Also, I'm sorry, I recognize this was the absolute dumbest post in TVMWW history. To make it up for you people who actually like when I write about television, I'm currently working on a post about a TV show that my wife ACTUALLY watches. In the meantime, check out this bonkers-long Grantland article about the 1980's Houston Rockets. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, look at these awesome portraits of Hollywood celebs by Martin Schoeller.

The Evster and Some Lady Talk About Some Hollywood Isht

It even has a juice bar!

When I first got into the TV blog game, people were like, "Yo Evster, you can't set up TVMWW headquarters in Philly, you gotta come to Hollywood, baby!" and I was like, "Dude, I have a wife and a house." and they were like, "Cocaine!" and I was like, "What?" and they were like, "I just saw Punky Brewster eating a taco!" and I was like, "You're not even real. I just made you up for this blog intro." and they were like, "That lady loves tacos!" and I was like, "I love tacos." and they were like, "She's got the biggest tits!" and I was like, "SOLD!"

But alas, I never made it out to "The City by the Bay," so instead I've invited my good friend (never met her) @SaraCircle – born and bred in Los Angeles – to join us as TVMWW's official Hollywood Correspondent in Charge of Telling us About Famous People Eating Tacos. 

Sara, my reader(s) are dying to know: What makes you so qualified for this position? Have you ever actually seen a celeb eating a taco? And if so, how big were her tits? I'm sorry, this is no way to conduct an interview. Were they huge? Be honest. I'm sorry again. Feel free to answer any or none of those questions. And thank you for being my Internet friend. I'm so lonely. (Seriously, how big? And did you take any pics? Please send, thx.) 

Wow, that's a BIG TACO that is in no-way photoshopped
because sometimes they come that big 
just go with it okay. 

SARA CIRCS:  First of all, WHOA WHOA WHOA with the tits talk. Some people around here still like to pretend there are ladies present.

Second of all, I am pretty much as qualified for this position as anyone else who was born and raised and currently lives in LA, with one additional special quality that makes me stand out: I commented on your blog. I think that's really what gave me that little bit of extra razzmatazz you were looking for in your Correspondent in the City of Famous Tinseltown People and Moviemaking – and I am ready to live up to the razzmatazz promise!

Okay, so I am trying desperately not to make this about me having seen/known a bunch of celebs since I am now discovering how simultaneously braggy AND pathetic that sounds. That said, I have seen and known a veritable lot of them! It's 102% as good as being one. Examples: I went to high school with Jason Segel, the Gyllenhaals, and this lady. Also, Jessica Alba's husband was my first boyfriend (6th grade), and Simon Cowell helped me write my haftorah portion (no)!

Little story that's kind of (but kind of not) about Ms. Moon Frye, since you mention her. It has been said that I actually bear some (FACIAL) resemblance to her. In fact, I was once at a holiday party talking to ***DAVID "BUD BUNDY" FAUSTINO*** (ALERT: "***" indicates amazing story about Hollywood person that could only be told by Tinseltown local) and he said to me, "You remind me of my friend SOLEIL(!!!)." BOOM. Bet none of your other "readers" could deliver a story with that kind of old Hollywood glamour. (Not sure why I'm so defensive about this.)

But no, I don't believe I've run into Punky in person. And you do know she got a breast reduction, right?

Yo, fuck the bullshit, how is this lady not the #1 porn star on the planet?

EVSTER:  Of course I know that Punky got a tit reduction (AND THAT MAKES ME SAD), but I have no idea who Jessica Alba's husband is (AND THAT MAKES ME SAD ALSO). I'm not even quite sure who Jessica Alba is (BUT I KNOW SHE’S NO BUD BUNDY). 

Okay, I'm gonna Google "Jessica Alba husband" now ... this is exciting ... google google google ... 

Cash Warren? 

That's a person?

Why would she marry Cash Warren and not Hulk Hogan Jr.? If I were Jessica Albs, I'd totally marry Hulk Hogan Joons. And that can't possibly be his real name. Cash Warren? Who would name their child Cash Warren? What's wrong with you California people? What happened to giving your kid a good ole fashioned name like The Hulkster? 

Okay, pleeeeeeease give us more deets on Mr. Cash Warlen. We're dying to hear details about Cash Warbens. Or just tell us about the Gyllenhaals. Jake's a terrible athlete, right? No way he knows how to throw a football. Please tell me he's a terrible athlete. Dude's so good-looking.

Donnie Darks is actually an amazing movie. 

SARA CIRCS:  I was in love with Jake from the moment I saw him on his first day of 7th grade (my first day of 8th). He was so cute, so funny and so obnoxious. I once heard him say, laughing, to a table full of attractive girls, "You can tell by my voice that I have a small dick, right?" WHO IS THAT CONFIDENT IN THE 7TH GRADE? Jesus, it still makes me angry.

When I was in the 10th grade, I penned a handwritten, multiple-paged letter to Jake explaining that I really really really liked and possibly loved him. I sent it to him via the US Postal Service. The coward never wrote me back, and it made me hate/love him all the more. Finally, after about a year of silence between us, we found ourselves in a hallway together and he couldn't avoid me. He said, "Hey, um, I was wondering if maybe we could talk some time." I TOTALLY legit acted like I had no idea what this could possibly be about and I was like, "Uh, yeah, sure, whatevs." We never did have that talk, but the silence between us was broken and from then on he felt comfortable making fart noises in front of me during play rehearsals and stuff. That's how I knew he really respected me for what I had done.

Years later, I was a teacher for a couple of years at our former high school and he was already famous. He visited the school one day, and some of my students saw me saying hi to him. In class later they were all, "OMG you were friends with Jake Gyllenhaal??!?! Did you hook up with him??" And I was like, "I'm not going to discuss this with my students," but I let the twinkle in my eye tell them I did. But I didn't! Also, how inappropriate for a high school teacher, right?

I think Jake was an okay athlete. My husband did AYSO with him as a kid - here's what he had to say when I asked him: "No, if I recall he was actually pretty coordinated / good. But, that is an unreliable memory. That being said, if he had been terrible I probably would have remembered." Sorry, Ev. He was "probably not terrible."

Re: Cash: nothing that interesting to say. Here is a photo of the scarf he made for me on his summer vacay in France, circa 1990. He later dumped me (almost certainly as a direct result of my dorky hat-wearing phase).

Nice cursive.

EVSTER:  You know it's truly a shame that you attached a picture of some dumb scarf (that totally looks like a pillow by the way -- do people from Hollywood know what scarves are?) as opposed to that letter to Jake Gylls. I picture it having little hearts drawn over all the i's and little nips drawn on all the o's. That woulda gotten his attention.

WHILE WE'RE SWAPPING STORIES (are we swapping stories? I don't even know if we're swapping stories), did you knowwwwwwww that I played high school basketball with Mr. Hollywood himself, Kobe Bean Bryant? (I've only mentioned it 4,000 times in this blog.) And not only THAT, I did the Tootsee Roll with his 6-foot 3-inch sister, Shaya, at our school's semi-formal dance (while her 6-foot 7-inch delinquent boyfriend hovered over me getting his MIND BLOWN). Later in my yearbook, she wrote that she'd never forget that Tootsee Roll and used dollar signs for all her S's. I think her boyfriend is now in jail. 

Click that jawn for a bigger image of $haya's yearbook message.

AND WHILE WE'RE $WAPPING OTHER $TORIE$, I also taught middle school for three years and once this student named Dwane (pronounced: Dih-wahn), asked me, "Mr. M, your wife got a phat ass? I bet your wife got a phat ass," and I gave him that same "I'm not answering that, this is inappropriate" look, but with a little twang to let him know that my wife definitely did have a phat ass. 

Also, what the fuck is AYSO? Meh, I don't really care. So what's goin' on in Hollywoods these days? Who's the last celeb you saw? Any reality TV mofos to get my reader(s) excited? I saw a guy in North Philly today who was talking to a chair. Nice guy. 

Oh, Jake Gylly, you were destined for greatness!

SARA CIRCS:  DON'T YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE ATTACHED A SCAN OF THAT LETTER IF I COULD? The only person who has a copy of that letter is Jake Gylls himself! (It's still stuck on his fridge with one of those magnets that looks exactly like real sushi, most likely.) If you want to see it so much why don't you get HIM to collaborate with you on your blog?

Yeah, I knew about you and Kobe, though I never read that blog post. I found it when I googled you (my mom said she "needed to know more about this boy before I'm just going to let you collaborate on a blog post"). Is that weird that I never said anything? Anyway, so what? You wanna know which far-less-famous NBA players were in MY high school class??? Hint: Just click on the link where I wrote "far-less-famous NBA players" in the previous sentence. Okay, Evan, you win this round.

For those of you (Jonny Hi-Tops) too lazy to click things. 

I don't know what a Tootsee Roll is but I'm just going to form a vague idea of what it might be in my mind and be grossed out.

I actually saw DeAnna Stagliano (nee Pappas - she married the other Stagliano twin!!) of Bachelor and Bachelorette fame coming out of a Costco the other day! Also, did you know that lady, Ayda, whom I mentioned earlier (via hyperlink), was offered Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and she didn't take it? Sooo disappointing (for me). Oh, and how could I forget this charming guy, another friend of mine from high school? How's that for reality TV connections? HUH? NOW ARE YOU IMPRESSED?

Let's see, let's see. I recently saw Taye Diggs walking around my neighborhood - that was cool. LeAnn Rimes too. Back when Cameron Diaz and Justin Timberlake were dating, I was once eating in the same restaurant as them. We walked out just after they did (pure coincidence I SWEAR) and there were tons and tons of paparazzi and CD did this amazing move where she hurled her upper body through the open window of one of the paps' cars (which was oddly parked in the middle of the street), took his keys right out of the ignition and threw them over a fence so they couldn't follow her and JT! Then they got into their dumb black Mercedes and drove away. Is what she did even legal? Who knows? It was great, though. They never should have broken up.

EVSTER: 

1. We have those sushi magnets!

2. Are you aware that the guy in that picture with the Collins brothers IS A VIRGIN???

3. I bet Cameron Diaz throws like a girl!

27. TOOTSEE ROLL!

I just re-read this isht and can't believe after exchanging 47 emails with Sara Circs, I didn't once ask about Jason Seegs. Oh well, what'd you expect from TV My Wife Won't Be Happy When She Sees I've Been Emailing Other Women? I'll tell ya what you expect, links to stuff like funny-looking squirrels. Instead, here's a secret peek into Tim Tebow''s hacked gmail account. Anddddddddddd here's a squirrel drinking soda.