who dat? contest:
"i know!"
previous results:
rocker pj harvey
first correct answer:
jackie danicki
popular / monkeys
My faith in the continued stupidity of most television producers and writers is safe today, as last night I caught some of the premiere episode of the new WB hour-long called Popular.
I was ready to throw a verbal fit today, but I don’t want to waste more time on the show than the 45 minutes I lost last night which I’m already plotting to get back from Warner Brothers somehow. Let’s just say this show had me actually, alone, yelling at the TV. That ain’t good.
Well, OK, just a few quick points about the inexcusable mess that is Popular:
-The show is facilely all about theme. You can just see the creators writing down "ideas" about popularity, and coming up with the most trite and obvious things they can think of. Like Popularity for Dummies.
-The popular girls are cheerleaders, want to be like Gwenyth Paltrow: "Gwenyth is the standard by which we are all judged." Someone actually said. Someone actually wrote that down. Someone typed that into a laptop at Starbucks on Montana Ave. while drinking a Vente Hazelnut Halfcaf Chai Latte, and smiled at his cleverness.
-The head unpopular girl: she’s absolutely gorgeous. And not just "edgy" hot, she looks like a Seventeen Covergirl. But see, the creators have tricks up their sleeves: to let us know she’s an outcast, they put her in oversized and non-Prada clothing, make her brunette, make her hang out with a fat girl, and – and this is the really genius part – make her wear tons of Black Eyeliner! You see: Black Eyeliner = Edgy. C’mon, didn’t you see The Breakfast Club? "Hey, I like this black shit." Hollywood is constantly doing this too. Seriously, the last two films I saw, the great American Beauty and the lousy Mumford both had the depressed girls in thick black eyeliner. But this unPopular girl: she was like Liv Tyler with less personality, charisma, and talent.
-Do popular people still even want to be cheerleaders today? Not in my high school school, man. In my school the cheerleaders were the bad-ass black chicks. I don’t even think white girls were allowed. The only cheerleading squad in America where you had to be jumped in.
-OK. In every show about High School sooner or later one of the bonehead characters auditions for the "school play". The acting teacher in these shows are always very dignified men, often black, in overcoats or huge sweaters who speak in Mid-Atlantic Dialect, often leaning towards pure British. Last night: dignified black guy with nearly an English accent. I’m sorry, but this dude would be doing Othello at the Guthrie, not teaching high school in Brentwood. High School Drama teachers are either Gay Men who failed at their careers, or Old Women who failed at their careers. That it! There are no other kind of high school acting teachers. Period.
-One of the opening scenes was the black acting teacher watching a black girl in a dashiki belting out Amazing Grace like she was auditioning for Showtime At The Apollo. They might as well have had her singing Jump Down Turn Around Pick A Bail Of Cotton and doing a soft-shoe with Shirley Temple.
-There is a HUGE white rapper going out with a Southern Belle. Dope!
-A popular guy on the football team runs to audition for the school musical and sings Some Enchanted Evening really badly. Of course, Dignified Black Acting Teacher perks up and smiles during the song. "Man, this cracker has some pipes on him."
-I think what bothered me the most is that the writers simply have no imagination. Everything on the show is totally black and white. No semi-popular kids who also hang with other groups. That’s what I was in high school. Where am I, dammit!? Screw minorities, I’m not represented on television.
-Overall, the show reminded me of that sitcom Parker Lewis Can’t Lose, but without the irony.
Elsewhere…
…my friends and I have been sending a
flurry of emails back and forth that I thought were fairly amusing not only on their own
right, but also as evidence of just how bored we all must be during the day:
***Hey everybody! Just a quick hello to let you all know of my new work email address which is xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. It's a great environment, in the heart of downtown Indianapolis, and I'm really enjoying the job and the people I'm working with. I even have my own office with windows and everything! No cubicles! I almost feel like an adult! Anyway, I hope this message finds you all healthy and well, write when you can, and I'll see you or talk to you all very soon.
All my best,
Robb
*** i don't really give a crap about you or your stupid email address or your dumb little
job.
I live in Hollywood baby! I'm a superstar! Meanwhile, you're shucking corn.
Stupid-ass.
-stee
***Well, well, somebody's jealous...and having obvious delusional visions of grandeur, temp! Stuck in your little Kafkaesque cubicle! Doing work that a poorly trained MONKEY, that's right, I said "MONKEY", could do. Oh, you poor, sad, pathetic little morsel. You will soon be some fat man's dinner.
Your Friend – Robb
***Dumb hick ass,
Your assertion that a monkey could do my job, while perhaps a soothing
idea for you, living in what we Celebrities derogatorily call "the fly-over", is wholly untrue:
Can a MONKEY maintain complicated databases? Can a MONKEY work a coffee machine? Can a MONKEY feel wholly soulsick and depressed beyond reason at the 8 hours of sheer boredom he has to suffer through five times a week?
I didn't think so, bitch.
And by the way, have you even read Kafka? I didn't know he was ever translated into HAYSEED.
Oh what a sad sad delusional misinformed horrid little man you are.
your pal,
-stee
***Considering that I really have no time to waste on such a paltry, feeble, hallucinating
soul such as yourself stee, I'll respond briefly to your silly, witless diatribe in the
form given below:
Can a MONKEY maintain complicated databases? Answer: Who fucking cares? That's the point!
Can a MONKEY work a coffee machine? Answer: Yes!
Can a MONKEY feel wholly soulsick and depressed beyond reason at the 8 hours of sheer boredom he has to suffer through five times a week? Answer: Ever been to a zoo? Yes!
Love and Kisses - Robb
(-then friend Steve jumps in-)
***Actually, I'd be interested to know whether a monkey can maintain a complicated
database or not. Or if a monkey can be taught to drive a car and be issued a legal
California driver's license. I think having a monkey chauffeur would be cool. It would
make that commute so much more enjoyable. I like monkeys. They're like little people.
Except they're wild. And they can pull your arms off.
(-then AK pipes up-)
***Steve raises an interesting issue.......
An orangutan faked driving a car in "Cannonball Run".....If memory serves, he did get pulled over, but it was more for unsafe lane changes than improper and/or illegal license/registration or the fact that he wasn't human...Actually, the cop didn't seem to upset that an orangutan was behind the wheel....Of course, that was an orangutan, not a monkey, so perhaps it's a whole other can of worms.......Toonces always wore a seat belt....
AK
(-Steve again-)
***Just imagine it: me in my white stretch limo with miniature swimming pool in the back,
toasting margaritas with David Lee Roth and some fly-ass Delta coochies, while being
driven by my newly-licensed driver Boppo the chimp! How cool is that?! He'll wear a
miniature chauffeur uniform! With a hat! And I'll teach him to flip off rude drivers! And
if a cop pulls him over, he'll kiss him on the lips, like Clyde from Every Which Way But
Loose! And he'll work for bananas!
***See,
Obviously Robb, this is really what you fear there in the corn fields: that your friends back in Hollywood will become big stars and you'll move back next year and ask us to meet you at the Coach and Horses and instead my personal assistant will tell you SkyBar and you'll be waiting outside cuz the bouncer wouldn't let you in and then alla sudden a huge white limo will pull up and out will your old friends all step – Prada and Armani and tons of blow and as your mouth is hanging open the tinted driver's side window will slowly roll down and our Monkey Chauffer will lean his head out the window and give you the stink-eye. And then he’ll bare his teeth and just when you start laughing cuz it's so damn cute, he'll give you a vicious rasberry, covering you with monkey-saliva, and drive off.
That's your real fear, ass-boy.
-stee
Finally…
…got my real crown put on at the
dentist yesterday and it hurt like hell. And on top of it, he alla sudden thought maybe
I’d need a root canal on that tooth and so he put the crown on only temporarily. Have
to come back in 2 weeks to decide what needs to be done. Shit shit shit.
The Larry King Happy
Song Corner
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