Come Back, Conan, As Soon As You Can!

After trying to make it through three episodes of the new Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, I've gone into some sort of Conan withdrawal. My hands shake, and my mouth dries up, and I begin to wonder if late night television was ever funny, or did I just imagine it? So far, Fallon's schtick has included sketches about Facebook, beer pong, popular YouTube clips, and getting college kids to do "funny" things on camera. Late Night has officially become the go-to program for all your painfully sub-par frat boy humor.

I understand that when Conan took over Late Night from Letterman he wasn't perfect right out of the gate. There was a lot of room for improvement. But Conan always had a unique writing style and point of view. Can someone please tell me what style Fallon has, beyond mumbling something unintelligible and then being the only one laughing? I have no doubt that Fallon will improve with time, but I can't foresee anything ever coming out of his show that reaches this level of greatness:



June can't come quickly enough.

Frebruary: A Month Of Terrifying Birth Stories

It's been a particularly strange winter. The days alternate between beautiful, summery mid-70's, and bitterly cold and nasty. Occasionally there's a feral howl outside my window that I once assumed to be the wind, but I now recognize as the forlorn braying of the Babies Of The Damned.

Bristol Palin, Alfie Patton, and Nadya Suleman form a trifecta of terrifying parents (scarents?) that should serve as a grim reminder of what happens when ignorance and hormones collide.

Lil' Palin is probably the most tragic of all the stories simply for the fact that she is clearly the victim of her parents' failed ideologies. You need no further proof than her statement in a recent interview that "everyone should be abstinent or whatever, but it’s not realistic at all." The first half of that sentence is just a pre-programmed regurgitation of the same old line that social conservatives (like her parents) have been shoving down her throat. She completely dismisses this with "or whatever" (since deep down she knows it isn't true), and then finishes by saying the complete opposite. It's a shame it took having a baby to make her realize what most of us have known from the outset: abstinence education fails. It's an oxymoron, a lack of information disguised as education. Also, Bristol has unfortunately continued the family tradition of naming her children like one would name a puppy, but that's just a matter of poor taste and there's nothing to be done about it.

And what do we make of Mr. Patton, the 13-year-old baby daddy? Honestly, the only thing that makes this story noteworthy is the fact that Alfie only looks to be about eight or nine. Beyond that, it's just another teen pregnancy story. I only mention it because, well look at him:

That gives me the jibblies.

Finally, there is Nadya. Anglina Jolie-obsessed, baby crazy, and possibly just regular crazy mother of fucktuplets octuplets. This story has been done to death by now, and I don't really have anything to add except: *Bluuuurrrrggghh*.

So tell me: are we heading towards an Idiocracy?

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No...No! NOOOOOOO!!!!!! *sob*

Some interesting updates on the Cowboy Bebop movie.

Apparently they want to stretch the series' first episode into a full length movie. While that was a great episode, and introduces the series nicely, it doesn't contain half of what made Bebop a great series. Fey Valentine, Radical Edward, and Einstein were all introduced in later episodes. And while I'm sure they'll try to cram all of their introductions into the movie, it just isn't going to work properly. They either need to create an original story, or focus on one of the bigger stories with Spike and Vicious.

But the worst possible news is this: Keanu Reeves wants to play Spike.


Spike is witty, charming, and subtle. Keanu Reeves has all the charm of a mildewed log at the bottom of a compost heap. And he would look ridiculous with all that hair.

I am no longer looking forward to this.

Filling The Void

Well, it looks like Pushing Daisies is officially dead. And no amount of magic touching will bring it back. Once again one of television's best and brightest gems is being tossed into the trash heap of history.

I've compiled a list of possible replacements for the coveted post-Lost time slot. May they fare better...

1. Hospital Town
Two young surgeons, John and Jane, fight for dominance in the E.R. One of them is cute, the other one sexy - but they're all professional. When they're not having sex at every opportunity, that is.

2. Police People
Tempers flare at an inner city police precinct when it's discovered that recent recruit, Stanley, is bi-curious. The rugged, and often sexy, chief of police will have to battle his inner bigot after Stanley saves his life from Somali pirates.

3. Law Firm
Holy shit! Court rooms!

4. Reality Contest
Watch ten assholes you would never associate with in public humiliate themselves again and again for the chance to appear in next week's episode. Snakes!

5. Validation
Our charming host tells the viewing audience how smart and kind they are, for forty-five minutes.

6. Loster
No one gives a shit what's on after Lost anyway, right? So why not more Lost? In each episode of Loster you get to see the events of the preceding episode of Lost...through the perspective of Jacob, the surly cabin spirit. Hint: he doesn't know what the hell is happening either.

Denial

Ext. Denton's Drive-Thru - Day.

ME: Hello, I'd like a number one combo.

DENTON'S EMPLOYEE: Would you like everything on that?

ME: Yes.

DENTON'S EMPLOYEE: What would you like to drink?

ME: A strawberry smoothie.

Smoke begins billowing out from the hood of my car.

DENTON'S EMPLOYEE: Sir, is your car okay?

ME: I'm...not sure.

DENTON'S EMPLOYEE: Because there's smoke coming out of it. Like, a lot of smoke.

ME: Yeah...

DENTON'S EMPLOYEE: Okay, your total comes to six twenty-two.

ME: Thanks!

Five minutes later:

Fuck.

There are a number of things I'd rather be blogging about right now. I've seen some very good concerts recently. Things have generally been really good for me. Unfortunately something happened tonight that really fucked things up.

My friend Teddy is in town this week to celebrate his recent marriage to Kathryn. I went to high school with Teddy, he's a good friend of mine. He currently lives in San Diego, serving in the Navy.

A group of us went out to a couple clubs. Ultimately we ended up at The Electric Cowboy. This was my first time there. I'd previously sworn it off as being exceptionally trashy, and had no interest in ever going there. As it turns out my expectations were not far off the mark. Shortly after arriving Kathryn was harassed on the dance floor. They had the perpetrator escorted out (one of the perks of having connections at the club).

Due to the ever infinite wisdom of manager, Matthew Jarvis, the guy who sexually harassed and disrespected Teddy's wife was let back into the club. Apparently Mr. Jarvis decided that the guy was harmless, despite having multiple people raise complaints about him.

Shortly after that Teddy was assaulted in the bathroom by no less then four guys, including the asshole that had been allowed to re-enter the club. He was outnumbered and didn't stand a chance. Teddy was momentarily knocked unconscious.

By the time I became aware of the situation things had moved out into the parking lot. Teddy's face was bleeding and swollen. Kathryn was hysterical. The guys responsible for this were strutting around, gloating. One of them attacked one of Kathryn's brothers. The wonderfully helpful staff of the The Electric Fucking Cowboy pulled them apart and started yelling at her brother to calm down. Meanwhile the guy who attacked him was allowed to walk free before the cops arrived.

When the cops showed up they proved to be more useless than the Electric Cowboy security. Because Teddy and Kathryn had been drinking (at a bar! What are the odds?), they didn't listen to a word they said. Both officers at the scene were unnecessarily condescending towards the victims. Multiple people stepped up to identify the attackers, but the cops basically rolled their eyes and did nothing while those people got in their cars and left. While Kathryn was frantically on the phone trying to get an ambulance to the scene the female officer told her, in a very condescending tone, to get off the phone because the ambulance was pulling into the lot.

The Electric Cowboy scans the ID of everyone who enters the club. One of the servers (and a friend to Kathryn and Teddy) said she could look through the pictures and identify the assailant. While she was trying to do this, manager Matthew Jarvis again stepped in to provide a healthy dose of douche-baggery. Trying to save face for letting someone back into the club after an altercation, Jarvis tried to claim that the guy had never caused trouble in the past. The server stated that she had in fact had trouble with that customer before on several occasions, and had a witness to prove it. Jarvis then stated, in front of the cops, that she had problems with a lot of customers because she was a bitch.

I'm sorry if I'm rambling a bit, but I've been up really late at the hospital, waiting to make sure my friend is all right. The sun is rising now, and my mind is racing. I don't have that "fuck the police" mentality usually. My few experiences with the police have been relatively routine in the past. But tonight they were completely fucking worthless.

And if you, or anyone you know, goes to the Electric Cowboy - be warned. Those motherfuckers will sell you out to save face at the drop of a hat. Fuck them.

How Are Serial Killers Made?

Warning: This video is now rated NJ for extreme sadness and heart-breaky-feelings.

When this child opens his Christmas present, an Xbox 360 box filled with clothes, you can actually see his soul fade away before your very eyes.


I can't help but think this would be a great origin scene for a new Batman villain.