Oh man, the TV I watch... How can I even claim to have taste?

Muah ha ha ha ha! Just when I thought I could not love VH1 more, what with three iterations of I Love the 80s and as many seasons of watching poor Bret Michaels chase the former strippers of the world in Rock of Love, this channel that has become the pop culture beacon of our world is giving us a new gift. Terrell Owens is getting his own reality show.

No, seriously. Check out this blurb:

Top sports figure Terrell "T.O." Owens gets his own reality show on VH1 scheduled to premiere this summer. The series will follow Owens during the Dallas Cowboys' off-season as he deals with his best friends and publicists Monique Jackson and Kita Williams, revealing all the while his true personality is a mix of quiet and sensitive as well as volatile and outspoken.

Okay, first of all, “quiet and sensitive”? I don’t find that credible.

And second of all, when your publicists are your best friends, there is a problem. These are not your friends. These are people you pay to make you look good to the public, and as far as that’s concerned I hope they’re not being paid much because they are failing spectacularly. (Although succeeding at that job would require the liberal use of a muzzle.)

And these publicists/best friends will also act as matchmakers? Can “Cowboy of Love” be far behind? I cannot WAIT to watch this, and I know Amanda and Gena will be with me!

Viva la VH1!

And THIS is why Mickey Rourke needs to win the Oscar.

This year Mickey Rourke gave a career-turning performance in The Wrestler. He won a Golden Globe, was nominated for a SAG, and is a front-runner for the Oscar. I'm not personally a huge fan of his, but I find myself desperately hoping he'll be taking home that Academy Award if only to prevent another sanctimonious acceptance speech by Sean frickin' Penn.

The SAG awards were marred by Mr. Penn's rambling, eye-roll-inducing, self-important speech Sunday night, in which he declared he didn't agree with everything that had transpired at the ceremony in a tone that suggested SAG members should be ashamed they didn't vote in a manner that pleased him, became downright belligerent that Benicio del Toro wasn't nominated for anything for Che, and called TV Oscar commentators "idiots" for insinuating that the Best Actor nominees were in competition for the award, because he's Sean Penn and he doesn't approve of competition between actors (although, I can't help but notice that his disapproval does not go so far as to compel him to remove his name from consideration for these awards.)

Whatever! Shut your pie hole and take your award and be done with it! And Che was literally released the day before you gave that speech and may not even have been eligible for the awards this year, so just say "thank you" and get off the stage!

It's times like these that I wish he'd start making all his movies with Oliver Stone so I could conveniently ignore them together. Maybe they could hit the trifecta and include Renee Zellweger in their unholy alliance. A girl can dream.

My thoughts on the Presidential Inauguration

1. I love watching something that has never happened before. The history geek in me goes nuts and I like to let her go nuts as often as possible.

2. Whatever your politics, you must agree that our new President is an incredibly gifted public speaker.

3. This is appalling, but I had no idea the Chief Justice of our Supreme Court was so young.

4. I was getting really annoyed by CNN's little trivia tidbits at the bottom of the screen. They told me Obama was the 5th youngest man elected President, but they failed to tell me who the other four are. (I will not be so ungenerous: they are JFK, Bill Clinton - I would not have pegged that. Dude needs to invest in some moisturizer., U.S. Grant - Also wouldn't have pegged that, but he had just fought a war., and Teddy Roosevelt, who was 46 when elected to his second term and just 42--younger than any other Prez--when he stepped into McKinley's assassinated shoes four years earlier.)

5. Aretha Franklin's hat was fabulous.

6. I was made extremely uncomfortable by the way Pastor Rick Warren pronounced the names of Obama daughters Malia and Sasha. If you didn't see it, go find it on CNN or YouTube. I defy you not to be uncomfortable with me.

7. I am always amazed at how we all gather together every four or eight years and watch the most powerful man in the world willingly give up the reins of government. A few centuries ago such a thing would have been unthinkable, and now it's become so common, we don't even stop to think about what an amazing thing that is.

Dear Consumers, it's possible that we poisoned you. Sorry about that!

So, what's worse than finding a carton of peanut butter crackers in your drawer that the manufacturer has recalled due to salmonella contamination?

Finding half a carton of peanut butter crackers in your drawer that the manufacturer has recalled due to salmonella contamination.

Thanks a lot, Kellogg's.

"Yes, Doctor, I realize it was foolish to eat the cookie."

So I overheard some of my co-workers talking about Girl Scout cookies. Apparently it's once again time for those peppy, chipper little girls to start hocking their sugar wafers. And that's when I had a terrible realization, and I went to my desk drawer, and pulled out a FULL BOX OF SAMOAS! Never opened! And what's worse is that while I think they're from last year, in my heart of hearts I know they might be even older. Strangely, though, they look exactly the same.

I was tempted to try to bite into one, but I didn't want to contract a severe case of food poisoning and then have to explain to emergency room personnel that I ate a cookie that was at least a year old, possibly older, just to guage the preservative qualities of Girl Scout sweets.

This year, I'm sticking to Thin Mints.

And the beef goes on...

I'm making a habit out of watching people attempt to eat three pounds of beef. It never gets old.

Over the Christmas break, I returned to Denny's Beer Barrel Pub, this time with Amanda, her sister Jess, Jess' husband Kevin, her cousin Travis, and Mama and Papa Beyer. We had three burger challengers that night. Amanda and Kevin went for the two-pounder and Travis, in a fit of either hubris or insanity, took on the formidable three-pounder. (Kristen, look away!)



Things started off well (don't they always?) and Kevin was really going strong at first. I thought he was going to power through in no time. Then, as he started to slow down, Amanda hit her stride. She halved her burger lengthwise, putting one part with the top bun and one with the bottom bun. Holding half the burger, it was now only the size of two Whoppers stacked on top of each other, and therefore much more manageable. Travis noticed this was helping her and he decided to follow her lead.

This would prove to be his undoing.

The three pound burger is a different beast. The three pound burger, when halved, just looks more sinister than before. Instead of a burger the size of a robust newborn, Travis now sat in front of several piles of beef that seemed to multiply before our very eyes. It was like the miracle of the loaves and the fishes in a Clearfield bar. I nibbled my fried pickles in horror. Travis later claimed, "breaking the burger apart broke me psychologically," and he ended the evening hunched over his take-out container.



In the end, no one completed the burger challenge, but I still have hope that I'll see it happen one day. So let me know if you want to head to Clearfield to take on this:



Kristen! Keep looking away!

It's back, people. And this time, it’s mobile.

I can tell you this: the skank factor has increased exponentially, something I didn’t even realize was possible. Yes, that’s right. Brett Michaels has returned for a third time, lookin’ for love among the strippers and strumpets of this great land. This season, Brett and his “ladies” will be traveling on a tour bus instead of staying in the tacky LA house that hosted the first two seasons. He has declared that if he doesn’t find love this time, he won’t be trying again. Oh Brett, please, if you don’t periodically subject yourself and twenty other fame-seekers to melodramatic humiliation, where will I get my guilty pleasure TV? I was planning on watching Rock of Love: Nursing Home Edition in thirty years.

Let’s get right to it. Brett greets his twenty potential soul mates and he is delighted to be standing before “this much beauty.” Brett and I differ on the definition of the word beauty. My definition includes neither collagen nor silicone.

Also returning? My favorite, Big John! He’s Brett’s true rock, as he keeps Brett sane, gets him to his shows on time, and breaks up any trampy catfights that happen to arise. I hope he’s well paid. Big John has lost some weight, cut his hair, and he’s looking downright adorable. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t know why these girls don’t ditch Brett and start going after him. Oh, maybe this is why:

“I’m a little bit not too smart, but it’s okay.” –Brittanya, Rock of Love Bus contestant

A little sampling of Brittanya’s competitors:
Contestant #1: Adult film star.
Contestant #3: Imagine Daisy of season 2, but three times more terrifying, and rapping (badly) with notes written on the back of STD pamphlets. Yeah, you read that correctly.
Contestant # 4: Transsexual, perhaps?
Contestant # 6: Certified lion tamer.
Contestant # 7: A new-age belly dancer from the foothills of the Appalachian mountains with a Master’s Degree in Storytelling. I love VH-1!

And now, for the interview portion of the evening.

A woman named Samantha steps up and mentions that she gets terribly carsick in all types of moving vehicles. Well, that shouldn’t pose a problem for a show taking place entirely on a tour bus. On second thought, I imagine there will be so much vomiting going on, she’ll fit right in.

Next, the porn star takes a moment to decry our nation’s non-acceptance of pornography, spouting, “America’s pretty messed up that way.” Well, I certainly feel chastened. How about you?

Finally, a terrifying woman, shellacked in make-up, steps up to the camera and Brett declares that she’s, “beautiful in a Juliette Lewis kind of way.”


Umm, what way would that be, Brett?

I will tell you this, she speaks just like Kip from Napoleon Dynamite, but that might just be the collagen talking.


I bet she wouldn’t bring you your chapstick either.

In the end, Brett dumps five of the girls, including terrifying Daisy 2.0, but he keeps the porn star, so she’ll be back to lecture us again next week. I’m just praying Heather makes a guest appearance.

An open letter to the members of award show audiences regarding applause during the In Memoriam montage

Dear Award Show Audience Members,

As we head into award season I have one request of you. Please refrain from applauding during the obligatory In Memoriam montage of the various award shows. Each year we, the viewing public, tense up and, with dread, prepare ourselves for the awkward-fest that is the In Memoriam montage, knowing, as we all do, that we will be forced to listen to the applause swell and diminish in proportion to how well-known the featured individual was. Someone on the level of the well-remembered and beloved Bob Hope receives a hearty round of applause. Max the screenwriter who got his start when Greta Garbo was making films, not so much. And so, instead of being a respectful remembrance of those in your craft who have passed on during the last year, it becomes a popularity contest. A cheap, tacky popularity contest made all the cheaper and tackier by the fact that the contestants are dead.

So I beg of you, the next time you’re sitting in the audience of an awards show and you’re tempted to clap for those dead people whose names you recognize, take a moment to imagine yourself dying at a ripe old age, when you’ve outlived your fame and you’re barely a memory to the small segment of the audience old enough to have seen your films, and then imagine the pathetic smattering of applause your photograph receives during the montage. Applause that will swell in the most humiliating fashion to a cacophonous roar when your photograph is followed by that of a glamorous, handsome young star who tragically bit it at the height of his fame due to an unfortunate combination of sports car and animal tranquilizers. And then imagine the even more awkward resumption of silence when his photo is followed by that of an obscure sound editor who worked in the film industry for 63 years but who was, let’s face it, only a sound editor and therefore not terribly well-known, even to the few people who know what sound editing entails.

The In Memoriam montage roller coaster of applause makes those of us viewing at home intensely uncomfortable. Even more so than when we brace for an acceptance speech by the humorless Sean Penn. So please, for the love of decency, sit there respectfully and silently, with your hands in your lap until it’s all over. It’s the least you can do for expecting us to hang in there until Best Picture is announced.

Sincerely,

The Viewing Public

John Adams was a really interesting guy. Don't forget that like I did.

During the Christmas vacation, we played an awful lot of Wits and Wagers, a game in which all the questions have a numerical answer. I missed a question about the date of the Constitution’s ratification because I was counting the years backward from the presidency of Thomas Jefferson and I forgot to include the four years John Adams served as Commander in Chief. Oh, the indignities that poor man has suffered, now to be forgotten entirely by a history major! I resolved to do penance by watching HBO’s miniseries about him, entitled John Adams.

It’s a delight. I mean, I am speaking as a history geek, and also as someone who might even brave the horrors of an Oliver Stone movie if Paul Giamatti was in it, but I do declare it was a delight. Giamatti’s performance was fantastic as usual, and he was surrounded by a really spectacular supporting cast, particularly Laura Linney as Abigail Adams, Stephen Dillane as Jefferson, and Tom Wilkinson as Benjamin Franklin. It was especially fun to watch Dillane, a British actor, utter lines like, “I would gladly lend my hand to sink the whole island of Great Britain into the ocean.” Acting!

The DVDs contain a feature that allows you to watch the episodes with facts popping up throughout. If you do that you’ll learn things like how the scene you're watching actually took place in London, not Massachusetts, and awesome stuff like what Abigail really thought of Alexander Hamilton. She once wrote, “I have read his heart in his wicked eyes many a time. The very devil is in them." Where’s Aaron Burr when you need him?

So I went to see the new James Bond…

...and I still have no idea what that title means. I paid attention. I was eager to find out. And still, no clue.

“Quantum of Solace”

Anyone? Any ideas?

Our revels now are ended

Happy New Year, everyone. After playing games, eating like a hog, and staying up until 3AM for a week and a half, I am exhausted. I spent this past weekend recuperating from my vacation. I find I am prepared to let go of Christmas once more, but my tree and lights still sparkle in my living room, and probably will until Presidents’ Day.

I have never in my life made a New Year’s resolution, probably because I know I’m not the type to keep them. Have you all made any resolutions? What are they?