reality shows

@virginia_1889 yes there is an @aplusk #nikoncoolpix

A husband and wife are huddled in front of a crackling fireplace placing index cards around a model size replica of their dining room table. “So, I think my mother and father will sit on the side furthest from the kitchen, next to Uncle Robert and the orphan twins.” says the wife, meticulously shaping the index cards to size. “You’ll be at the head of the table because you’re the man of this house and this is your special day. I know how much you just love the holidays.” With a red and green pen, she alternates the colors of the letters in Uncle Robert’s name. Red U, green N, red C, green L…

He leans over to kiss his wife on the forehead and asks, “More marshmallows, dear?” Just outside, a light dusting of snow punctuates their perfectly tasteful nativity scene; the footprints of carolers slowly disappearing beneath the angel dandruff. The husband adjusts the belt on his almost-too-big robe and watches Mr. Henderson hang another row of icicle lights from his roof. He’ll have to remember to compliment him on another marvelous holiday display. You did it again Mr. Henderson, you old so and so!

Bag of marshmallows in hand, the husband returns to the floor in front of the tiny dining room table. “Finished!” exclaims his wife. “Another perfect holiday dinner party, coming up!” He nods in approval, admiring the table’s fine craftsmanship as well as his wife’s penmanship. A bewitching smirk crosses his wife’s face as she picks up the remaining blank index cards and glitter vials. “You know honey, we still have two seats left. What if you could wish upon the star that lead the three wise men to the newborn king? And with that wish of all wishes, you could have anybody, anybody in the world, join our holiday dinner party. Who would you pick?”

The husband runs a hand through his wife’s hair and ponders this holiday riddle. “Anybody in the world? My dear, I thought you’d never ask. I wish I may, I wish I might, that both Kim Kardashian and Jennifer Aniston would join us that joyous night!” He playfully taps her on the nose. “Boop! Here let me help you wi-” His sentence is interrupted as his wife throws the miniature dining room table and accompanying index cards into the fireplace.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU TREVOR?” The flames of hell reflect in her eyes as the names of their family, friends and all of the orphan twins turn to ash. “Are you fucking serious right now? Here’s an idea, why don’t we sit some of your porno girls next to gram-mem! They can shake their tushes in Trevor Jr’s face while he says the Lord’s Blessing! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?” She storms off to the kitchen. He can hear drawers violently opening and closing and she rummages for the keys to the liquor cabinet.

He chases after her. “But honey, don’t you remember when the man from Reuters called me at the office and asked me to participate in that holiday dinner poll? My answers are firmly in line with the rest of America!” With a warm smile he puts his hand on her chin. Their eyes meet and he calmly says, “Now, why don’t we try to save what’s left of the miniature dining room table and your delightful index cards and call it a night, ok?”

Have a holly jolly Christmaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhhhhhh

She snaps her head away from him and takes a large gulp from a bottle of scotch, now free from its triple locked cabinet. Wiping her lips with the back of her hand before taking another large gulp, she says,”You take your fucking hands off me and you get the fuck out of this house.” He knows he’s lost. There would be no braised goose or razzleberry dumplings or sweet apple gravybutter for Trevor this year. She has that look in her eye that says, “Trevor, you won’t be getting a second helping of shoe-fly marmalade for your freshly baked pfeffernüsse this holiday season. I’ve already filed the papers for our divorce, and I’ve written ‘Trevor’ on a new index card, crossed it out, and wrote ‘Jay Leno’ instead. He’s the funniest man in America, and he’ll be sitting right next to me. Forever. I hate you.” Her eye was so expressive.


Hey folks, John here. I hope you enjoyed this year’s very special holiday update! Can you believe people actually want to have dinner with those yahoos? Rachel Ray? Who is that even? Charlie Sheen? What, the dope addict from television? Yeah right! But seriously folks, I hope you all have a wonderful (and SAFE! hehe) holiday season! We had a lot of laughs this year, didn’t we? Oh boy. Yup. Good, uh… good times. Well, hey, don’t let me keep you. I’ll see you… next year! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha holy shit


Rutgers University Presents: The State of the Snooki Address

Jersey Shore starlet and World Wrestling Entertainment representative Nicole “Superfly Snooki” Polizzi was paid $32,000 to speak at my alma mater (teh school I gradeuated in). The world is not happy about this because she has a hard time forming sentences without falling down, and a mandatory student fee paid for her appearance. So, maybe you wanted your student fee to pay for a more thoughtful speaking engagement from the guy that stars in the Old Spice commercials or Jesse Camp or Puck – tough shit, listen to Snooki instead.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I went to the Newark flavor of Rutgers, not New Brunswick where this all took place. During my four years at the Newark campus, I think we had one celebrity guest – Jurassic 5? Maybe? I don’t know, I didn’t go. Also, slightly off topic – around the corner from my campus was a store that sold nothing but Naughty by Nature shirts. 10 years ago.

So, we all paid $32,000 for this shit and we’re very upset about it. What advice did Snooki have for her audience of backwards hatted bros and girls that still dot their i’s with arrow punctured hearts? Please be forewarned, whatever happens in this next indented paragraph will be met with ALL CAPS COMMENTS ABOUT THE WORLD ENDING.

Snooki and her sidekick, comedian Adam Ace, brought eight students on stage to teach them the “Jersey Shore” fist pump and her signature “tree branch” dance. Snooki also judged a “Situation” contest to see which of five male students had the best abs.

When asked her inspiration in life, Snooki said: “Being tan. When you’re tan, you feel better about yourself.”

Snooki said she had partied at Rutgers before, but the details were hazy. “I’m pretty sure I came here. I don’t remember what happened,” she said.

Her parting advice to Rutgers students: “Study hard, but party harder.”

This is all your fault. You are the reason we are where we are today. You shot 10,000 reality star memes out of your nose and into our homes. And get your FILTHY HANDS OUT OF THE PEANUT BUTTER.

NO! NO! I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS! DID YOU READ WHAT SHE SAID!? I have half a mind to complain about this on the internet! commenting all-star “njjammer,” summed it up with a level-head when he or she said, “Quiet! If you listen closely you can hear the galloping of the horses carrying the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. Money well spent Rutgers!” njjammer is right. Horsemen are carried by horses. And also, Rutgers should be spending money on moats, catapults and archers to fend off said horse-riding horsemen on horseback. If I got a phone call from an undergrad soliciting money for the “Rutgers Apocalypse Defense Fund,” I’d be all over that shit. “We need swords that shoot flames when you thrust them into the air, sorcery lessons and enchanted talismans, and if you could just donate $100 we’d greatl-” SOLD.

I don’t think Snooki’s appearance is a sign of the apocalypse. Reality show stars are in-demand right now, and people like to give them money to say dumb things. Donald Trump is talking about running for president of the United Fucking States, solely on a platform of “The current president is a black, so…” and people are thoughtfully stroking their neck folds with the words, “I agree with the man on the teevee,” drooling out of their mouths. And you’re going to blame Snooki for capitalizing on the unquenchable thirst for dumb people saying things? If Charlie Sheen was a meme when they were booking this event, they would have gotten him instead because #winning #crazy_words #oh_man_remember_when_he_said_winning_before_lololololololol.

So, really, all I’m saying is, don’t blame Snooki. Blame yourselves! Blame Puck! Blame everyone but me because I’m exempt from scrutiny! You made these people popular, and now they want more of your money. Speaking of which, I’ll come to your school with an overhead projector and we can watch my favorite Youtube clips and hold hands and I’ll teach you how to fist pump for only $20,000 if you mention coupon code “HAHAFARTS11.”

“Cutting” the cable, wherein “cutting” cleverly replaces the word “canceling.”

A few months ago I made an announcement to my friends and family: WE ARE CANCELING CABLE. This proclamation does a few things –

(a) It gives an air of sophistication to the proclamationer. It says, “I don’t watch television because my mind is my most important possession. I’m assuming you don’t feel the same, and I accept that, because in addition to having strong opinions on media consumption in this country, I’m also capable of recognizing that my lifestyle may not be the best choice for you.”

(b) It screams, “I’m technologically savvy!” It’s kind of like getting rid of your cable box and purposefully keeping the cable box shelf in your entertainment center empty so someone will ask you about it. Oh, you watch television on a cable box? Huh. Oh, I just have a PC attached to my TV, 500 terabytes of legally obtained television shows, and this virtual reality helmet lets me control it all. No, we can’t watch King of Queens, the firewall won’t allow it. Also, TCP/IP’s, .NZB’s, 1080p’s, etc.

(c) It kinda makes the proclamationer sound like a douche.

The Netflix streaming factory. This woman is ensuring that there are two terrific movies and tv shows available for every 10,000 unwatchable pieces of shit.

My fiance and I had lofty dreams of life without cable. All the shows we wouldn’t be able to watch, all of the conversations about television shows that we could easily dismiss because, ahem, we don’t “do” television. Plus, every single device in the house can stream Netflix content, and that’s like basically the same as having cable, right? There’s Netflix on the XBox, the dusty old Wii, our computers, our phones, the fridge, the iPad, our graphing calculators, our electronic dream journals… you name it, chances are pretty good that it can stream Netflix content. The problem is that I’ll think of a movie I want to watch and I’ll check to see if it’s available to stream on Netflix, it’s all like, “Add Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation to your snail mail queue, you’ll get it whenever you decide to return Billy: The Early Years of Billy Graham!” And you know, I just like the idea of having Netflix’s copy of Billy: The Early Years of Billy Graham sitting on my shelf? And I don’t want to return it? And by now I’ve completely forgotten that I wanted to watch the Texas Chainsaw with Renee Zellweger and Matthew McConaughey in the first place, and just watch people falling down flights of stairs on Youtube instead. I understand that I started this paragraph talking about television shows and now I’m talking about movies, so please accept my apologies and refer to point (a).

Now Amazon is offering free streaming of select movies and TV shows for Amazon Prime members. I thought this would be perfect! Amazon Prime is the greatest invention of all time, and it changed the way I shop. For example – I’m out of deodorant. Duane-Reed is about four blocks away. Outside. With Amazon Prime I can get a single stick of deodorant delivered to my door, and what the hell, let me just order some cat toys, four USB cable caddies, a USB cable caddy caddy and a few six packs of ginger beer. Yes I’d like my order shipped in as many boxes as possible, of course I want it delivered for free. 24-48 hours later it’s like goddamn Christmas morning, except I’m the only one getting presents, which is the greatest Christmas gift of all. So now Amazon Prime, on top of all of the joy and cat toys that Margot instantly loses as soon as I open the box, you’re going to throw in free movies? This is AMAZI-Oh… they’re all pretty much the same thing as Netflix huh? And I can’t watch streaming Amazon movies on any of the previous devices I listed to great comedic effect? OK. It’s OK Amazon Prime. You’re still the best at filling my hallway with boxes and bubble wrap, and Netflix can never take that away from you.

After tinkering with streaming sites and illegal downloads and honest-to-god rabbit ears, plus coming to terms with the fact that I begrudgingly like having cable for the odd episode of Intervention and repeats of Mr. Show (that I have on DVD but they’re all the way over there), we wound up just keeping the stupid cable. I just don’t mention it around my friends and family that were on the receiving end of my bold proclamation. I just throw a blanket over the cable box whenever anyone comes over, that usually does the trick. Now I think I’m going to start my own streaming site to compete with Amazon Prime and Hulu Plus and Netflix Pant. And it’s going to have every movie on earth, and it’s going to have every TV show on earth, and it’s going to be awesome. Give me a year to get some funding and some servers and check back for a major announcement regarding Super TMH PrimoPlus+.

Zone Xtreme (not a real show. still somewhat xtreme.)

If you had the chance to electrocute someone to death on television to satisfy the bloodlust of a studio audience, would you do it?  French documentary “The Game of Death (Le Jeu Du Mort)” says, “Yep, you probably would!”

The documentary led 80 participants into thinking they were shooting a French pilot for a new reality TV series called Zone Xtreme (not a real show). In the fake show, fake “contestants” played by actors were forced to answer questions. If they answered incorrectly, one of the participants would be asked to give the contestant an electric shock. No shocks were actually administered; the actor contestants pretended to get electrocuted. Egged on by the beautiful TV hostess and an apparently bloodthirsty studio audience shouting “Punishment!,” only 16 of the 80 participants stopped before reaching the final, lethal 460 volt shock. People apparently kept up the shocks even when the contestant appeared to be dead or unresponsive.

PUNITION!  PUNITION!  All I can picture is that informercial hosted by Shooter McGavin in Requiem for a Dream.  Just rapid cuts and text flying all over the screen and chanting and people getting electrocuted to death.   “This… drives… most… people… crazy.”  Only 16 out of 80 people stopped!  Like, just ignore the fact that you’re killing an innocent person and the moral implications that come along with that; at the very least, wouldn’t you be afraid that you’d be convicted of manslaughter?  With videotaped evidence?  On the other hand, maybe the participants were just living out their Emperor Palpatine fantasies.  Puissaaaaaaaaaaaaance illimitée!

This does not bode well for the human race.  Only one man can get away with electrocuting people while still being an ok dude, and that man is Dr. Peter Venkman of Columbia University.  You may remember Dr. Venkman’s case study wherein he analyzed the effects of negative reinforcement in relation to ESP ability.  Using a set of specialized playing cards marked with various shapes, he asked his test subjects to focus their ESP ability and guess which shapes were present on the cards.  If they guessed incorrectly, he administered an electric shock.  If he wanted to bang the subject, he’d tell them that whatever they guessed was correct and charm the pants off them.  Following his work at Columbia, Dr. Venkman went on to pilot the Statue of Liberty using an NES controller and fight an evil painting with happy slime.

But back to The Game of Death, the French documentary that for a few minutes made me upset for mankind, and then just made me think of movies that featured people getting electrocuted (The Green Mile, Faces of Death IV, Ernest Goes to Jail).  Would this fly in America?  Wouldn’t we be all, “Git ‘r dun” and then try to overthrow the maniacal game show host?  We’re Americans!  We’re not gonna let some fake game show host tell us who should live or die!  Like, “Let’s roll,” or some shit! Right?  Guys?

FUCK!  C’mon, this is ABC News!  The most American Broadcasting Company we’ve got!  They basically proved you can create your own Nazi army with $50 and an important looking electro deathbox.  We’re so done.