|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.