Tagged: tv


I don’t have anything to write about really because some of us actually have jobs and don’t sit around playing video games all day. Gabe. However, I’ve been watching a lot (A LOT) of TV lately so that’s what I’m gonna write about, poorly.

First item on the agenda: ugly babies. Ugly babies are ultimately the most unfortunate creatures in the world. And we have birds with guts for necks on our planet, ok? Ugly babies are sad because babies are supposed to be cute. Because you can’t say a baby has a nice personality or is really funny, so when they’re little and retarded, they should at least be cute. Also, ugly babies always grow up to be ugly adults. Fact.

Which leads me to my next point: CeCe Halpert. Could they not find a cuter baby to be the lovechild of one of the cutest onscreen couples this side of Technicolor? The worst part is that I read that CeCe is actually played by a set of twins which is sad because it means there are two identically ugly babies floating around out there. On a side note, I think we need to stop giving twins so much positive attention. They’re weird.

In summation: cute babies can become ugly adults & cute babies can become cute adults (Google Robert Downey, Jr. in the [awful] movie Pound. Pound as a noun, not a verb, creeps. Honestly, what’s wrong with you?), but ugly babies can only become ugly adults.

I’ve noticed that Robert Downey, Jr. has been in, like, every movie in the past couple of years. Is he making up for lost time? Because if this is how he does it, it’s going to fun to watch him catch up on his other hobbies. Like knitting. And heroin.

I can’t remember what else I was going to write about, but it was something amazing probably. Really you’re lucky that this post wasn’t one long run-on sentence of Michael Scott quotes and pictures of Jim with hearts all over them.


Since there has been all this hubbub about 3D TVs, I decided to check it out. The H2B (hubs-to-be, as he will forwardly be known) and I were in the market for a newfangled TV so we mosied over to the TV store to check them out. Set off to the side in a mini living room type setup was a 3D TV, complete with glasses (covered in hard plastic and tied down to a podium; the freaking Mona Lisa of 3D glasses), so I parked my tiny self on the tiny couch and watched it.

Remember old 3D movies with the chintzy paper 3D “glasses”? The images actually shot out at you and it made the movie fun. Not this 3D TV. It was on some sports network and the only thing I noticed about it was that the network emblem “stood out” more. It kind of looked like it popped off of the screen. A little. If I looked really hard. Is that it, America?! We’re shelling out big bucks for a little bit of extra dimension? I want my money’s worth and this just isn’t cutting it.

If you had parents that loved you, you’ve been to Disney World/Land. And if you’ve been there, and they really thought you were just aces, they would have taken you to the Honey I Shrunk the Audience ride/whatever. That movie was the bee’s knees and seeing it in 3D (4D, technically) was like the bee’s knees in the cat’s pajamas. I don’t remember graduating from college or falling in love, but you bet your butt I remember Honey I Shrunk the Audience.

The problem with you, America, is that you think that kind of 3D is fake and hokey so you shove your head up your backside and try to tell yourself that the new 3D is where it’s at; it’s classy, with its subtly added dimension. Well, you’re wrong and I’ll be damned if you’re gonna sell me on your smuggy 3D baloney.


OK I know it’s Friday, but it’s time you TGIF’ers got knocked down a peg so I’m bringing out the emoticons, specifically the sad one. Today I’m going to talk about things that normally make people happy and why they make me sad.

You all know this little guy. The trusty, loyal friend that’s always there for you with a stupid, comedic sitcom when you’re blue or some sappy romance movie when you’re…well, blue. Well, you get my point. The TV is a fine piece of friendship furniture. It doesn’t judge you, no matter how often you watch Bad Girls Club, it’s not needy, and it perfectly molds itself to all wants and desires, however inane or perverse.

But I’m onto the TV, and this is why it makes me sad. I can’t fully enjoy my stories like the rest of you dopes, because my brain is simple and malleable and so quickly absorbs jokes and story lines. And because my brain is simple, and probably because it’s so small, my last bits of creativity, originality, and childhood memories are basically shoved into the colon of my brain and pooped out of my ear. I don’t remember ages five through seven, but  I can recite innumerable jokes and story lines from I Love Lucy, Parks and Recreation, and Seinfeld without batting an eye. I make clever jokes and repartee without a second thought, mentally patting myself on the back for my ingenuity, only to be reminded that my banter is from The Office. Verbatim. Ok, take a deep breath and keep pushing forward (that’s what she said).

Yes, I hate that Spam too, but we’re talking about internet sad face stuff and if you buy actual Spam online then this is not the blog for you. Email is probably the coolest danged thing ever. It’s the perfect form of communication. It’s not as instant as instant messenger, but ten million times faster than regular mail. There are no obnoxious photos, videos, apps, games, or lame status updates to spoil its subliminal existence; it is near perfect. Enter spam mail. Spam mail (including everything from hacked spam accounts to newsletters I probably signed up for, but don’t remember doing so and thus get annoyed by) literally takes a poop on my day pretty much every day. Nothing makes me more excited than to see a little bold number next to my inbox informing me of new messages and nothing dashes said excitement faster than spam. It’s almost like God’s/whatever-being-you-believe-in’s little way of reminding you that Heaven is better. “Heaven doesn’t have spam guys. Just sayin'”