gimme!

May 232013
 

So like most of you, I’ve heard about Kickstarter, the crowdsourcing website dedicated to helping people raise funds for creative arts-type projects. I’ve even donated to a short animated film being produced by my pal Jac entitled  One Per Person, that I’m happy to say quickly reached its goal and is well on its way to being completed. (Yay Jac!)

However, unlike Zach Braff, who recently has come under fire for using the site to raise private money to help fund a vanity project that apparently is already being supported by a production company, I have some other ideas for creative endeavors that no one is yet behind but really should be funded. I mean, if people are willing to give money to see Sonic the Hedgehog with boobs, I don’t why people wouldn’t want to throw their cash at me!

As a matter of fact, get out your checkbooks and Visa cards, here are:

Ten Great “Art” Projects That I Really Want Money to Produce

1. The Tar and Feathering of Mark Sanchez – I see this as more of performance piece, with heavy audience participation.

2. Steve and Kate Get Irate – A reality-tv project, where I have cameras just follow around my Damned Connecticut partners, and watch them navigate marriage, parenthood and life. I’m telling you, this is a winner—their fights on Twitter are some of the most entertaining things I see on any given day.

The random texts I get from Steve are hysterical. A few weeks ago he asked (out of the blue) if I my kids were serious about being Mets fans because he assumed that if something happened to my wife and me, he and Kate would be raising our kids, and “I’m not having any Mets fans sleeping in my shed.” Nice.

3. The Colin Mochrie Project – For this, I just give Colin Mochrie money and let him improv and I just record it and it’s comedy gold. Probably comedy platinum.

Yeah, definitely comedy platinum.

4. Celebrity Cannon Ball – A game/prank show, where irritating reality stars (redundant, I know) such as Honey Boo Boo, the Housewives of East Bumblefrack and every manner of swamp person, gypsy and dog groomer are shot out of a cannon, and whoever goes the farthest is the winner. Except unbeknownst to them, we just shoot them all into the same brick wall! Everyone’s a winner here.

5. Morgan Freeman Reads Aloud Speaking Ill of the Dead: Jerks in Connecticut History – You know, because it’d be cool.

6. Shaming Butt Heads – A public service piece where I would follow idiots who like to flick their still-lit cigarette butts out of the car windows, and then broadcast it for all to see what self-absorbed douches they are.

Seriously though—this happened to me twice last week alone! And it’s the same thing every time: A driver is flicking his ashes out the window as he drives, and when they get to the end of the cigarette, they just flip it out the window because the world is their f’n ashtray. I truly want to run them off the road, drag them out of the car and after smacking their head off the hood a couple of times, explain that areas the size of Connecticut burn out West each summer. Douches!

7. Quantum Leap: Dr. Sam Beckett *DOES* Finally Leap Home – Because the worst wrong in television history needs to be righted.

8. The Giant Squid & Octopi Channel – I figured there should be something educational in my offerings, and if there is anything more amazing—and absolutely more terrifying—than cephalopods, I’m not sure what it would be.

9. My Dinner With Salma – A documentary of sorts, I suppose you could call it. Starts with a casual meal between two amazing individuals (Salma and … me, of course) and … well, I guess we’ll see where it goes from there. Or I’ll see where it goes … (she is on The List, after all).

10. Sketches in the Life of William Stuart, The First and Most Celebrated Counterfeiter of Connecticut, As Given By Himself: The Movie – As I’ve repeatedly stated, this guy is my favorite jerk from my book, and my dream would be to turn his autobiography into a screenplay and then a movie. Trust me when I say that it’ll be brilliant—not because of my writing but because this guy is one of the most entertaining characters I’ve ever run across anywhere.

 

the friday five: jeeper creepers

Mar 292013
 

The other day we were talking about some of the child-oriented shows we used to watch. Luckily, my offspring fell between the eras of “Barney” and “Yo Gabba Gabba,” but it didn’t mean that there weren’t …

Five Craptastic Shows That My Kids Occasionally Watched

1. “Boohbah” 

Seriously, WTF IS THIS?! Really, watch the clip and you’ll see why mere words are not enough to describe this … this.

The only other thing I’ll add to your future nightmare is this subliminal thought: “uncircumsized.”

2. “Teletubbies”

Like “Boobah,” my kids only watched this abomination a handful of times, but it was enough to scar me for life. Ironically, whenever we passed the large, grassy mound of a landfill on the River Road in Shelton, my youngest son would refer to it as “Teletubby Land.” Appropriate.

Still, I don’t know what bothered me so much about it. Possibly the incomprehensible language? I mean, accusations were always made against heavy metal gods Judas Priest for hiding subliminal Devil-worshipping messages in their music via backward masking, but has anyone done a proper audio study of the noises the Teletubbies made? I’m pretty sure what you’d hear would be along the lines of this:

“Hey boys and girls, we’re coming to kill you. Tinky Winky is going to snack on your tinky winky. La-La is thirsting for your blood. Dipsy will get ripsy on your heart. Po is just going to eat your soul,  s-l-o-w-l-y and without prejudice. And your brains? They will be feasted upon by that baby in the sun. Sleep tight!”

3. “Caillou”

I could never figure what the deal was with this bald, whiny twerp—did he have cancer? If he did, after watching a few episodes featuring this annoying, cloying dipshit, I could only actively root for his white cells to lose a long, protracted battle, sending him to a painful demise. I also think Caillou is a fromage-munching surrender monkey via Canada, which would explain—although not excuse—a lot.

The aspect of the show that really bothered me was the father—pretty sure that he kept on that terrible sweater all the time, even when he was driving his rape van around the neighborhood and collecting the innocence of Caillou’s vapid friends. “It’s okay … Caillou likes to be tickled like this.”

*shiver*

I also seem to recall that on the final episode of the series, Caillou finds his mother in a running bathtub with her wrists slit, a blood-stained note clutched in her pruned fingers … “No .. more .. tears …”

It’s funny—I tried to watch some of this clip and I so hate this show, I couldn’t stomach more than about 10 seconds. I have no idea what happens if you watch the whole thing—Caillou might get trampled to death by a pack of incontinent water buffaloes for all I know. (Now that would be entertainment!) Again, after about two or three episodes, my kids had enough, thankfully. So we didn’t watch anymore.

My spiritual inspiration Steve tells me that after his son started watching it, he couldn’t bear it anymore, so he told his son, “Sorry, but Caillou died. All gone!” If only.

4. “Thomas The Tank Engine”

TRAINS DON’T HAVE FREAKIN’ FACES!!!! OR SOULLESS, DEAD EYES!!!

5. “Franklin”

Why does Franklin wear only a red neckerchief and nothing else? Is his shell supposed to be his clothes? And why the hell is he the only one with a real name? The bear is called “Bear,” the snail is called “Snail,” the goose is “Goose,” the fox is “Fox,” and even the freaking beaver (a girl, by the way) is called “Beaver.”

Franklin also did extensive time in the “Caillou School of Perpetual Whinging,” which didn’t endear him to anyone. He also shared Caillou’s lack of hair, although at least he had the decency to put on a baseball cap on occasion.

I always hoped that we’d tune in one day to see Bear sitting in the middle of Franklin’s room, covered in blood and surrounded by three empty shells. After sucking bits of marrow out of a bone, he’d then wipe his mouth with that red neckerchief and belch.

Now that would be good TV!

 

what i’ve been missing: daytime tv edition

Feb 272013
 

 

So like many of you, I work in an office during the day. Occasionally I work from home if the weather conditions warrant it, and when I do, I’m such a straight arrow/dope that I actually work when I work from home. Even on my official days off, if I don’t have a specific activity planned, I tend to spend most of the day in front of the computer, writing something. Very rarely do I sit around and do nothing in the middle of the day such as watch TV . . . until this past week.

On Sunday night, I started feeling wonky, which was followed by a sleepless night where I alternated between burning with fever and freezing. When the alarm went off on Monday morning, I was so zonked that it was all I could do to grab my cell phone and text my boss that I wasn’t coming in to the office. I dragged myself out of bed, watched my family go off to school/work, tried to eat something and quickly abandoned that plan to crawl back into bed, where I went passed out for another four to five hours of sleep.

When I awoke, it was mid afternoon, and not having the energy for much else—the siren song of the intrawebz couldn’t even lure me to my computer—I propped myself up on the couch, sucked on a Gatorade and flipped on an episode of History Channel’s “American Pickers,” pretty much because that was the channel the TV had been left on from the night previous.

Now as most of you know, I certainly watch a (un)healthy amount of TV, and that includes more than my share of shows like the aforementioned “American Pickers.” I’m not saying it’s the greatest show on TV by any means, maybe not even in the Top 20, but sometimes when there’s nothing else on, I’ll watch. If you’re not familiar with the premise, basically these two antique nerds go around the country “picking” through people’s old junk in the hopes of finding things they can resell—usually, they visit people who have collected tons of crap and need to unload some of it.

As I’ve said before, the ultimate crossover would be “Pickers” and A&E’s “Hoarders.”

Anyway, “Pickers” was on and it was an episode that I had already seen, but too wiped to even bother changing the channel, I watched it again. But as the commercials came on, I realized it was nowhere near the same viewing experience.

Yes, as some of you already realize, the commercials that run in the daytime are *very* different from those at night. Very different, indeed. Nowhere to be seen were the food, fashion or car ads that I’m used to vieweing during prime time, but instead, it was a sea of … well, unusual (to me) items.

In the course of an hour episode, here are some of the products I saw:

Mirena intrauterine birth control – Really, advertisers think that stay-at-home moms are so sick of being stuck with their kids that they will do anything to avoid having more—including risk getting cancer, “pelvic inflammatory disease” (yes, it’s a thing) or ovarian cysts, as well as be willing to tear holes in their uterine lining and take on heavier bleeding? Good luck with that.

Liberator medical catheters – Would people stuck at home who need to regularly stick medical devices in their most sensitive of body orifices really rather save a few bucks and do it themselves, as opposed to have an actual, trusted healthcare professional help them? On the plus side, you can get your free personalized sampler pack (including pre-lubed catheters), you know, because everyone should be experimenting on their own genitals with randomly-sized objects.

The Jazzy – The Rolls Royce of transportation devices for the mobility-challenged from what I’ve heard—if this is where my Obamacare dollars are going, I’m okay with making the lives of the permanently disabled a little easier and cooler …. yes, I said cooler, because it does sort of look like fun to tool around in one, although I fully realize as a person who can walk that this probably sounds offensive—apologies in advance, as always.

Open-Aire portable oxygen – This is what Dennis Hopper uses in Blue Velvet, right? You can buy that off the TV? Sweet!

Zostavax shingles medication – Do advertisers think that sick people have nothing better to do than sit around all day watching  …. oh wait, never mind.

Make The Connection veteran services – Here’s my problem with this ad running during this show: I find it hard to believe that after facing death, violence and untold horrors, our distinguished vets prefer to unwind with an afternoon of watching two goofballs picking through other people’s trash as opposed to just catching up on hours of internet porn free of restriction or censorship by the U.S. government.

Passage Malibu rehab – You know, because overpriced, glitzy, celebrity-centric mental-health “professionals” are sooooo much more effective than truly experienced practitioners, just as Dr. Drew has so ably proven.

Sandals – I guess if you have time to be hanging out in the middle of the day watching History Channel, you probably have spare time for a Caribbean vacation.

Beltone – I want to make a joke here, but I fear after years of going with my buddy Big Balls Bob to see the likes of KISS, Motley Crue, Aerosmith, Metallica and too many other bad hair metal bands to mention that a hearing aid may be in my future sooner rather than later. Eh?

Alteril sleep aids – What, you can get AIDS from sleeping—why would anyone want that?! Okay, the irony is that this commercial came on a day when I was struggling to maintain consciousness. I needed 5-Hour Energy, not 15-Hour Coma!

LLC.com – I’m leery simply because this “start your own limited liability company” website is run by The Company Corporation, which sounds like it was made up by George Costanza—I’m pretty sure their slogan is “Companies for People.”

Qunol health supplement – Again, I’m not suggesting that this isn’t a legitimate product, it’s just that the main ingredient—Coenzyme Q10—is referred to as CoQ10, which in my juvenile mind is pronounced “Cock ten,” and is something I don’t want to put in my mouth. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, I’m just saying it’s not for me …

…. just like daytime TV.

Next time, I’m just going to read a book.

 

shazzbot!

Jun 212012
 

All right, time for a ’70s flashback!!!

That’s right boys and girls, that skinny guy on the left is Robin Williams. Long before you knew him as Teddy Roosevelt in Night at the Museum or the voice of Genie in Aladdin, and even before he was a legitimate Oscar-worthy actor in movies like Good Morning, Vietnam, The Fisher King and Good Will Hunting (for which he actually won an Academy Award), he was a bonafide cocaine-fueled TV star!

Ohh “Mork & Mindy,” how I almost tragically blocked you from my memories. (My brain is a lot like Homer Simpson’s in that every time I push a new piece of info in—say like knowing who Carly Rae Jepsen is—something old gets pushed out.) (And now that song’s in your head, too—you’re welcome!) Thanks to The Hub, I stumbled upon this little piece of my adolescence the other night, and faster than you could say “Exidor” (yeah, that guy!) the flashback flood nearly overwhelmed me.

“Mork calling Orson … Mork calling Orson …”

Or in this case, it’s really more like “Dork calling Orson …”

Anyway, as much as a fan I was of the show, let me first say that I did *NOT* own a pair of rainbow suspenders. Not then, not now, not ever. I did, however, have a light blue shirt that said, “Nanu nanu!” in giant letters, which sort of upset me because I thought it should’ve been spelled “Nanoo nanoo!” Despite that, I proudly wore that shirt on a regular basis like any impressionable young 70s teenybopper would.

I also should admit right up front that I absolutely had a crush on “Mindy,” a.k.a. Pam Dawber. Of course, as I was writing this, I Googled her to see what she was doing now, and not only was I surprised to find out that she’s 60 (!) and still looks terrific, but she’s also been married to Mark Harmon since 1987!

Mark Harmon? Good lookin’ dude, a hit show and a 25-year marriage in Hollywood to a woman who still looks like this—

Clearly, a blood deal has been inked with Ol’ Scratch. Bastige.

Another thing I noticed while watching was Mindy’s dramatic lack of a rack, which is something that jumps out at me (so to speak) when watching other shows of the same era. Sure, everyone was thinner, but the majority of actresses on TV back then had normal-sized breasts. Actually, compared to today’s ridiculously boob-tastic TV bimbos, they all look flat now, even Farrah. (Yes, I had The Poster on my bedroom wall—I am an American, after all.) Speaking of ….

On the flip side (or should I say “nip” side?), even though they weren’t as busty as today, actresses—including my sweet Mindy—seemed to be dramatically averse to brassieres. Seriously, the ’70s were the decade of the unbridled jiggle! I still have the mental image of “Wonder Woman” Lynda Carter adjusting her swimsuit on “Battle of the Network Stars” burned deep into my memory. (And I don’t know what’s sadder: That I still remember it or that someone else uploaded that clip to YouTube.) Actually, I’m pretty sure the entire concept of “BOTNS” was an excuse just to get young bouncy starlets into ridiculously thin bathing suits to get males to change the channel and rip out the dial! (It worked.)

But yeah, put on pretty much any 70s show, and it was “headlights” galore, from “One Day at a Time” to “Three’s Company” to “The Love Boat.” I’m pretty sure Flo from “Alice,” both Laverne and Shirley, and Shirley Hemphill from “What’s Happening” were the only ’70s actress who were secured above the waist, which was probably a good idea for all involved…

Just like a cold shower. Hey hey hey!

While watching, I was pleasantly surprised that aside from Mork’s suspenders and Mindy’s minis, the show actually holds up pretty decently, unlike some other shows, such as the aforementioned “Three’s Company.” Can you imagine today trying to build a show around the “taboo” premise of a single guy sharing a two-bedroom apartment with two single women? Or the whole horrifyingly offensive gay-bashing that was at the center of each episode? Mr. Roper would be intrawebz-whipped out of existence in about -.023 seconds …

It’s funny how when you watch something with fresh eyes decades later, it’s not quite as endearing or amusing. When “Welcome Back, Kotter” came on TV Land, I was excited to see it again as I was a big fan back in the day. But as I started actually watching it, I couldn’t believe how unfunny it was. I mean like not funny diarrhea club unfunny. Wow. Bad plots, bad ‘acting,’ bad pacing, bad jokes, bad directing, bad everything—except Marcia Strassman (also a member of the 70s normal-breast, anti-bra club society). It makes sense now why Travolta wanted out after one season … you know, which has worked out well for him. I think … well, until recently …

Okay, like Mork telling Orson what he learned at the end of each episode, here’s what I learned today:
– A flying egg is a horrible choice for an intergalactic craft.
– Robin Williams has always danced the line between amusing and insufferable.
– There was a time when an actress could not wear a bra on TV and it wouldn’t be the subject of every gossip show and site.
– There was a time when an actress could have her own breasts and succeed with them.
– Apparently, there wasn’t a time when I wasn’t obsessed with breasts.
– I have issues.
– I miss some parts of the ’70s—you can keep the bad hair, polyester fashion and Flo’s grits, thank you very much!

we’ve got talent, yes we do

May 172012
 

So between periods of the Rangers-Devils playoff game and innings of the Mets-Brewers game, I found myself surfing past “America’s Got Talent” a few times. (Yes, my attention span is that fleeting.) Credit the Howard Stern factor—I think he’s a lot smarter than a simple “shock jock,” and knows how to entertain, or at least how to generate a train wreck that I’ll slow down to watch.

Anyway, as we know, I’m hardly one to judge singers, or dancers for that matter. However, I did find myself questioning the “talent” of a few other “performers,” such as the tattooed stay-at-home dad who was piercing his face with needles or the Robin Hood wannabe wielding a crossbow like he was auditioning for an Ed Hardy ad. Not that running sharp things through your jaw or popping balloons with arrows aren’t cool skills, I just don’t think of them as a “talent” that one is born with, such as being able to sing, play an instrument or hit a baseball 400 feet (without being jacked full o’ steroids).

“Skill” vs. “talent”—a semantic argument, perhaps? Maybe I’m just a word curmudgeon being too restrictive with a definition. Who cares what you call it as long as we’re entertained, right?

Howard Stern talked about how he appreciated that we lived in a country without restrictions that could foster so much creativity. I agree.

Now that I think of it, the producers of “America’s Got Talent” should loosen up the rules (you know, if there are any) because I think we live in the most talented nation in the world. As I continued flipping the channels, I realized that here in the good ol’ U.S. of A. have skills *and* talents that are unique and go beyond anything the rest of the world could hope to offer, even other than our greatness at bringing attention to ourselves—as those fun-loving young professionals from the coast of New Jersey amply demonstrate.

In fact, here are—

The Top 14 Talents of Which All Americans Can Be Proud

1. Modifying our bodies

What, are you saying that someone without talent can get their own TV show? Pffft. Come on. You’re just hating because someone has clearly made themselves better than you.

2. Dragging up logs from the bottom of swamps

Okay, for reasons I don’t quite understand, I find myself watching “Ax Men” on History Channel to see Swampman Shelby Stanga, who may or may not speak English but makes his living in crocodile-infested bayous, enjoys randomly shooting stuff and appears to be just a little crazier than a June bug juiced full of Louisiana hot sauce. But seriously, who else on Earth would even do this?

3. Eating crap

We’re still the fattest people on the planet, by far! U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

4. Building trailer parks

There are one billion people in China and not a single trailer park. How do you explain that? They just don’t have that U.S. know-how!

Continue reading »

to whom it may concern

Mar 232012
 

So as I’m wont to do, last night I started watching the two-part series “Are We Alone: Alien Encounters” on Science Channel. Unlike many of the alien- and UFO-related shows on Discovery, History, TLC, OWN, Biography, ID, Nickelodeon and The Food Channel, this one takes a more practical tack on the subject.

From Science Channel’s website:

Alien Encounters lays out a plausible hypothetical scenario for a first contact event. What would really happen if we got a message from space? How will humans react when we learn a spacecraft is on its way to Earth? Will humans learn from aliens, or become colonial subjects?

Some of the world’s leading astrophysicists, astrobiologists, sci-fi writers and and futurists help unravel the scientific, cultural and psychological impact of this world-changing global event.

Alien Encounters is made in cooperation with SETI Institute (the highly respected organization devoted to the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence), which was founded in the early 1960s by renowned astrophysicist Carl Sagan.

Sure, not the hardcore science behind a show like “Finding Bigfoot,” but a cut above, I’d say. (Oh, and if you haven’t seen the “season finale” of “Finding Bigfoot” via “The Soup,” I highly recommend it—laughing out loud, as the kids say …)

Anyway, as we know from my other website, life on other planets has long been a subject by which I’m fascinated. Now am I talking about little gray beings who are intelligent enough to have solved the complex challenges involved with intergalactic travel just so they could just traverse hundreds of light years to Earth to surreptitiously cut our cows in half and shove probes up the unremarkable anuses of trailer park denizens named Cooter?

No.

But with the trillions of stars and billions of planets, I think it’s safe to assume that there’s other life out there somewhere in the cosmos. Perhaps not sentient, intelligent life as we know it, but considering that there’s life in some harshest conditions on this planet—like extremophiles that exist along thermal vents miles under the ocean or in Courtney Love’s undergarments—it’s reasonable to say there’s SOMETHING out there.

Now, I know that in addition to our television and radio waves, various space agencies have been beaming messages into the vast reaches of space for decades. If there is an intelligent alien civilization out there monitoring the smorgasbord of communications we’ve unleashed on the universe—and they’re not hell bent on destroying or enslaving us, like Stephen Hawking suggests—then it’s entirely possible that they’re scratching their six heads in confusion.

As always, when humanity needs it, I’m here to help!

Here’s a message that I think needs to be sent across the black void of space. (Obviously, it may need to be sent in a few different languages and codes, but I’ll leave the nerds at NASA and SETI to work that out.)

“Dear Friends on The Other Side of All the Twinkly Things,

Hope all is well and that civilization is working out a little better for you than it is for us. As you may have noticed if you’ve been watching and listening to what’s going on here on the shiny blue speck near the yellowish dot, we’re having … challenges, as a few of us like to say.

Oh sure, if you’re monitoring us by our entertainment and news programming, it looks like all we’re doing is killing or procreating with one another, but that’s not really the whole story. (Although the procreating thing is big here.) The large majority of us who you will never see or hear about in “reality” don’t do things like mindlessly slaughter innocent others, wantonly engage in drunken fisticuffs or eagerly hunt for aquatic nourishment with nothing other than our unaided appendages. We’re actually pretty friendly and decent on the whole, once you get past our propensity for occasionally doing inexplicable things.

Unlike many others, I do not believe that you’ve been here already and left behind spurious things like pyramids, crop circles or the House of Windsor. As such, Earth may be a nice place for you to come visit—we have great beaches, some excellent tourist attractions and really, the gelato in Florence is out of this world. So to speak.

Of course, I understand that if you can understand this and are interested in coming here, you might be much more advanced than us, which might mean you have other motives for making the trip.

If you are coming across the galaxy for a snack, I would like to say that we don’t make good eating, but given our high fat content that’s probably a lie. If you do arrive here hungry, I have it on good advice that these are the finest of human delicacies, as you can tell by their fancy packaging—

 

Please make sure to enjoy your fill and ingest every bit of them, especially the females! They are finger-licking good, to use an old Earth motto.

If you are instead looking to enslave us, these are among the most ready to work as they have yet to do anything productive of which I’m aware.

 

Again, work them hard, work them often. Work them to death, if you deem it necessary—they owe it to the rest of us. (The little orange one also may make for good eating when you’re done working her, although that’s just an educated guess.)

Finally, if you are coming to pick out one of us for a inter-species breeding program, may I recommend this sturdy, fertile young female—

 

Although you might think that by her luxurious locks and soft features she’s a fragile flower, I assure you that she is not. Look at those broad shoulders and square jaw! Please feel free to repeatedly use your barbed genitalia in vigorous efforts at reproduction—she may protest a bit at first, but that’s only because she is shy. Don’t let that deter you, and keep at it until conception is achieved . . .

Okay, that’s what we call here on Earth “humor”—attempting to entertain or amuse with the goal of inducing laughter. Many of us here enjoy it from time to time as it helps us deal with the stress of our lives and prevents us from constantly wanting to kill each other. (The aforementioned attempts at procreation, if done correctly, can also bring about the same effect.) I hope you can appreciate my attempt at it as an effort to engender your appreciation.

Anyway, here is the proper young female you should choose for your breeding program.

 

I hope that clears up a few things about which you may have had questions.

I look forward to meeting you some day—you know, on pleasant, friendly terms, not while you’re feeding me to one of your young.

Nanu-nanu!”