Monday, April 24, 2017


1. does your workplace have a "casual Friday" or a day when you can dress down or out of uniform? the monks tried a Casual Friday where we took off our habits and prayed naked on the bed of pebbles by the brook. the abbot said we still had to squat per our Order's ancient custom. our nutsacks were never the same.

for once in my life i want to be the abbot.

2. has the growth of social media and unabashed sharing of personal info on social media made you MORE or LESS cautious about your privacy? 1 cm, okay? leave me alone. there IS no more privacy. and i'm afraid this will only hasten our doom. there will be a terrible reckoning. i for one welcome our new insect overlords. named Computer Bugs.

3. is gay marriage legal where you live? i'm proud of my home country The Netherlands...

4. is smoking marijuana legal where you live? under what circumstances? only if you're named Willie. or you have a big willie. we should all get free pot for medicinal purposes cos there was this study once which concluded that every single human being who has ever lived had some form of mental illness...

5. give us a hashtag that best describes your weekend. hashtag must be 15 letters or less.

                      <-----nothing typed. too stoned to type. still coming off 420

bonus: have you ever stalked a celebrity? who? i'm not typing this from prison. i wish Sasha Grey would stalk me. stalking means to follow on instagram.




let's get intimate you and i. this busy society doesn't allow for it so let's be rebels. this show, and Jane and the Dragon, were why i took up this challenge. if nothing else, if i could highlight these two shows i would have done my job. one animated, one as real-life as it gets. there's documentary and then there's straight-up hardcore reality. like no flourishes, no touches, just leave the camera on the waiting desk and watch the carnage get mended.

this flew into my life when i was at a crossroads. it allowed me to relax, take in the quiet moments between life and death, and realize all my shit was first-world problems. there's always someone who has it much worse. it's impossible to escape your own skin so you keep forgetting that. i'm always so jumpity. Novemberish if i recall so i was armed with something interesting to discuss come Thanksgiving Table time, which is one less thing to stress about.

no frills, no fuss, just the brilliant work of the emergency-room staff at a local London hospital. not censored, not photoshopped, no special effects or maudlin music, patients in their real lives barging through those King's College doors with bloody trauma and the dedicated English angels of mercy who fix them as best they can. not all problems have physical solutions and some require follow-up psychological help, but you know what they say about the doctor and lawyer jokes drying up a pub when you need a doctor or lawyer.

some shows are in the vein of other shows. which can be like a drug. but familiarity breeds contempt and soon those same shows boil your blood. some do neither, like Sand Whale and Me. figured GITS and video games, so why not, eh? what a bland disappointment, unless you really like World Peas. some shows get into your veins and stay there. and then there's this tv programme which is ABOUT veins. thank you BBC America, this almost makes up for Sarah Jane.

so of course i'm partial to all things British. this show combines the greatest show of all time, ER, pronounced "er", and places proper English accents into the tongues of the staff. instant credibility. i would immediately trust my doctor more if she spoke with a British accent. i would chew acid if she told me to.

two beautiful nurses are highlighted throughout the short run of the series. i think it was but 6 episodes, it went by way too fast. this was one instance i didn't want them to do the double-booked two-hour series finale thing at the end of the last week. spread it out more. i know it's all a game and mindtrick but my wet brain will do anything to stave off boredom. the fact that orientation or eyebrow rings or blonde hair don't figure into their clinical descriptions says something profound. these are the people you chance to receive when you go into this room and give your sob story about that cut in your body that's serious. not a people person? you are now, nice to meetcha.

the compassion and warmth cuts through the dank atmosphere which is night and willowy and full of dread and doom, waiting for the next medicated sock to drop, preparing for the worst, realizing there are only a few steps to death. the entrance-corridor light shines in the darkness welcoming in motorcycle crashes and sparking industrial accidents. the indoor-corridor lights shine a light on the drugs and swabs and tongue depressors to keep you from getting more depressed. as Robert Romano once famously said about hospital drugs, "we got the good stuff upstairs."

maybe i should switch to good drugs. anyway, that's besides the point. scared of a little prick? well it's harder to keep from becoming a prick. the "customers" are always right and self-righteous about their injuries and the nursing staff always has to maintain a decorous equanimity and try to figure out how to nip it in the bud. how many times had they wanted to turn off the machine after being called a unsolicitous slag. all the demeaning unsolicited comments. but they never did.

we get treated to a construction beam that has now effectively become a working-stiff bloke's leg. no amount of helmet can change that. awkward first dates where the bird has to carry the bloke over her shoulder after he's had too much to drink after the rejection. and the old ladies, those are the worst. you know they're gonna die. i remember the one family with the chubby kid and him going on about how he never really knew his grandpa until the accident, and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life getting to know his gramp, trade fishing cards with him and take him out on bike dates by the lake. and then of course the grandpa dies the next day.

you never know when in your life you're gonna need a gurney or stretcher. you should make one out of wet straw and keep it handy in your closet. or unhinge a bathroom door like they did on Bob's Burgers. you need some air? don't swim. are X rays dangerous? yep. your blood pressure's poppin'? eat less chicken. i know, that black bubble is fun to squeeze. it's a black balloon but it's not heroin. you like wearing hospital gowns? you must love your butt. your tummy aches? eat less chicken. chicken make better pets than poultry.

you want a stethoscope up your arse? don't answer that.

oh that white sheet. when it's under you it's comforting but when it's over you you have officially lost your sense of smell. and now a process secret: this is the first time since i started this challenge i DIDN'T look at the wikipedia list of shows BEFORE i wrote the post. i knew what my T would be. i speedily scrolled through the T list AFTER i posted just for fun *cheeky smileyface emoji*

you need help? you need help with your life? the action starts when a call comes in to that famous Red Phone. that ain't a Batphone, this is real shit. shit just got real.

i wish they would make more.

there are no atheists in a foxhole. and no labels in the trenches of an ER. just capable human hands.



there is nothing creepier than a hospital chapel.


Saturday, April 22, 2017


TV depends on mood. you watch Queer Eye for an hour to be inspired, uplifted. it's positive, it signals you want to make a change, you want to improve yourself. never laugh at a fat guy at a gym, never laugh at someone who is trying to better themself, i read that on instagram. you watch porn if you want to find out the color of the drapes at the pizza guy's house after the deal is made. you watch Tenchi Muyo GXP if you want to veg out and not think for a half hour. or want to riff at the adult swim messageboards, now defunct cos of trolls. have you noticed all messageboards are being permanently removed due to trolls? what does that tell you in a larger sense about society? you watch literal cartoon vegetables if you want to learn about Christ's eternal sacrifice.

if i can't eat food, i can at least look at it. instagram, eh? so i was flipping through S shows at wikipedia and i realized this would be the big one, the longest list. and i said fuck it i can't choose. i mean a lot mean a lot to me. i have a lot of S in my life.

so let me cook for you. there, it's on the table which is about to break, take a little of this and a little of that and have fun. if your show is not on the list i've already talked about it or it's too hard to write about:


was still in the throes of my depression, which i am right now. this moment. my first breakdown, or was it my second? being soothed by the clippity clop of horse hooves on soft grass. i could see how this was a positive team-building girlpower message for young girls, but i was in it to win it at the Kentucky Derby. i remember the one blonde bitch, there's always a bitch in these girl shows who's blonde, with a bale of hay up her ass and her jodhpurs in a bunch always jealous and cracking the whip and causing the Club chaos. like her actual riding crop. i hope she has to sing those cheesy songs from the show forever and isn't allowed to "grow up and go adult" like Selena or Demi.


one day i'll see it. i've heard great things about it. i was still ignorant to the magic of cable when this aired. i don't like westerns, though.


two words: Ariana Grande


i know everyone salivates over this series but i never got it. i was forced to watch the first episode of the original series long ago against my will cos they were threatening to withdraw my artist card if i didn't. i recognize the artistry of it, the effective pools of silence, but yeah, never hit me. the Scotsman, okay. everyone salivates double these days cos the long-awaited continuation is more "mature" and on toonami. so is there an orgy with Jack and the Daughters of Aku? couldn't tell you. on paheal there is. oh, i was told i had to end this with T H I C C


i'll never forgive BBC America for stopping airing this show just as it was getting into the meat of a student who was mysteriously becoming a possible enemy. it was always good. Rest In Power Sarah Jane. Elisabeth Sladen was Carrie Fisher before Carrie Fisher.


EVERYONE should watch this with their nostalgia glasses OFF. this isn't your grandparents' Scooby-Doo, my grandpa didn't watch cartoons and was a cat person. it's a fabulous show. it upsets the shiny apple cart and plays into the long-seated tropes of the series and turns them on their head. it's very knowing about itself and there are lines of dialogue you wouldn't expect the characters to say. let's just say it's REAL. Fred is painfully aware of how stupid his ascot is and his obsession with traps. Daphne wants to fuck Fred just to see what it's like to eat white bread. Velma knows she's smart and chubby but not necessarily a lesbian but also Shaggy isn't the man she thought. he's a flake. Shaggy wasn't paid for one episode cos he skipped out a day of shooting for 420. Scooby has to come to grips with his eating disorder. they won't run in and out of doors from monsters, or if they do, they'll point it out. i loved it, first Scooby series i watched tip to stern. i was exhilarated when a new episode came on, i knew i would be treated to cynical exchanges. after all this franchise is older than your grandpa. written by the grandchildren of the fans of the original series, whose innocence was killed by the internet.


the dawn of adult swim, the beginning of the end of mores and civilization. one day some guy named Mike or George Lowe had the idea to take the classic cartoons we all grew up watching and reminiscing about and sexing and drugging and cursing 'em up. made your animated heroes into ordinary people like you and me with problems and prejudices and character flaws. and it was funny cos they could finally say what they were thinking. and it's just jarring seeing Boo Boo run wild.

here's all you need to know.




what they did to that poor Debbie...


this was a sexy crime drama. it was noir and filmic and full of steam everywhere, literally on the streets and figuratively in the sheets. or is that the other way around? the fact that it was in color was distracting. it was Fifty Shades. well maybe Twenty Five Shades, the porn was soft and glossy. the one thing i'll take to the shallow grave from this show was the lady detective. her chemistry with the chiseled man detective was electric. those were two copulating cops. sure she was hot, but she has the best name a femme fatale could ever have:

Mitzi Kapture



Dashiell is turning in his grave, cos he wants to un-die and become a zombie so he can write for a bombshell character named Mitzi Kapture.


just remembered the video-game arcade cabinets in the sprawling indoor portico of the rich kid's mansion. even a full waverunner. casting for a real-life Richie Rich brought little Ricky Schroder into our lives. he prefers to be called Rick Schroder now, NYPD Blue and all. dude has a bunch of kids.


here are some SKINS BLOOPERS. be sure to seek out that one interview with the (best) Series 1 kids talking about how they had to make sex sounds on cue. awkward.


smart sports from Sage Sorkin. fascinating. ESPN had to catch up to this so now all of the ESPN writers and anchors and personalities and babes are from Harvard, right? no more hushed corporate culture, right ESPN?


i remember this show but i can't remember a single skit. something about a math detective agency? the songs were catchy though i recall not a one. another blessed event where we actually used tax-payer-funded school time to watch television and this show. all i do know is that i learned more from this than my math teacher. and my math teacher was a hot man with a mustache.


spoilers: it was all ice cream. a snow cone. let us pray for the suicides.


when i was scrolling i landed on this on the list and came close to making this the main and everyone else second. only because i had TOTALLY FORGOTTEN about this show and went OH YEAH!!! out loud heartily and delightfully in my room.


another Discovery Kids masterpiece which played on NBC Saturday mornings, another gem with good acting and that pristine Canadian wilderness. kid X-Files. where is Emma Taylor-Isherwood now? as long as it's not porn. Josie is forever trapped in time. the gingers are taking over. and ONCE AGAIN i had forgotten about the hunk! Daniel Clark! fucking Daniel Clark was on this before Degrassi! i watched this whole show from stem to end, including the "Conclusions" conclusion, i remembered Vaughn, but not that he was THE Daniel. we learned about wormholes and a lab and the PROPER use for Baoding balls. who is Blake Holsey anyway? something about a clone of Josie in a black hood...




Friday, April 21, 2017



* but if i didn't watch tv i wouldn't have known!

* the legend reborn is not Batman, it's you

* the song was distracting. sorry. send your hate mail to...don't send hate mail, hate mail is stupid.

* i want to take the subway right now not Subway, Denny's. i want one of those big-ass triple-decker burgers with a sunny-side-up egg for one of the patties and slathered in jalapeno-pepper chips which i pick out of the burger and leave on the side of my plate and don't eat. the burger has a huge steak knife plunged down its middle. the knife is just left there. that's dangerous.

* always remember, ugly dogs need forever homes, too.

* the office is no-pets-allowed. guilty man was only able to bring the dog in after a bath. not for the dog, guilty man had to bathe.

* why are there so many damn comments on facebook? who are these insane people who rant on about this or that knowing nobody cares? isn't there something more important you should be typing?

* support the troops. enact better policies.

* vet: i don't trust your scruffy beard, hippie. can i have your dog?

* Denny's circa 1979 when they still had the indoor lighting awnings made of gold silk strings...

* guilty man: why did you drop out?
plaid kid: they said my red shirt was gang-related and kicked me out of school. but it's not!
guilty man: yeah it's clearly plaid. you like Cobain?
plaid kid: Krist doesn't get enough love.

* guilty man: okay i don't want to be that guy but my entourage down the street here is getting a little too big. i'm gonna have to cut people. clearly not everyone here needs help.

* guilty man: have you tried the new Uni Frap from Starbucks?
homeless man: fuck off.

* homeless man: anything helps.......except your lame jokes.

* polar bear: you said people, not animals.
guilty man: have you tried the new Uni Frap from Starbucks?
polar bear: they make that out of unicorns you know. i heard horror stories from my cousins.

* guilty man: hey can i use your cart?
homeless man: fuck off.
guilty man: no i'm going to get the food.

* plaid kid: why are you having fun while the world burns?
guilty man: i'm not having fun, i'm playing football.

* guilty man: it's no fun watching sports anymore.
homeless man: admit it, it never was.
guilty man: do you play chess?
homeless man: so because i'm homeless i know how to play chess?

* guilty man: hey what's that pink thing you got there, plaid kid? is that the new Unicorn Frappuccino from Starbucks?

* plaid kid: you're gonna make a great mentor, sir.
guilty man: the director only chose me cos Scott Grimes was busy.

* guilty man: okay, movie night! what are we in the mood for, gang? Born in China sounds safe.
polar bear: why would i want to see that? i lived that.




QEFTSG. you're right, that's a bad acronym. as with all things in life, you have the power to decide. you can choose whether the thing is comedy or tragedy. and then something happens unexpected and it's up to you to see how you'll react. with tears. of laughter or pain. that's a lot of pressure and makes me cry. things don't go to plan, always, and what are you gonna do? there's nothing you can do.

so as you move around your yin-yang drama masks like three-card monte, let's go with comedy to start. and happiness. we all know Reading Rainbow, i don't need to write about it. the greatest underrated actor of all time, LeVar Burton, teaches kids to read. he's the teacher and parent you weren't. sure he's difficult to work with, that's what talent is. he's the unseen link to Poitier. sure he's a pain in the ass, cos nobody on this god green earth CARES about reading anymore! there's no more education, just destruction. i swear Elmo's gonna haunt your dreams with his HBO money if you defund. DON'T watch the Roots remake. as with anything, watch only the original. LeVar, which is a kick-ass name, tried everything to keep the beautiful show about literacy and laughter and love and innercity justice. i loved those book recommendations. those drawings of the stories come to life, this helped me when i wrote AND illustrated my own books as a kid. those poor kids were lisping and probably had asthma and autism, or maybe they were just the kiddiest of kids. what a banquet of humanity! those cute linereadings always advertised the new books better. they were Amazon Prime without the drones. you got your front-seat ticket without having to take a dirty bus to muni and wait in line for that paperthin library card.


he lent a dignity to being poor. he was bred and Harvard but played with the running-around rugrats on the hot metal jungle gym just the same. he was our guide to imagination, as a way to AWOL your dreary circumstances. instead of the candles on the basketball court at night, you could hide under the blanket and flashlight a good book from your local library which was walking distance to the organic fruit wheelbarrow. when libraries vanished, society went to pot.


i remember my school. we had a relative of Michael Jackson the King himself in my class! she taught us it was liberry. and you didn't put your books AWAY, you put your books UP. the teacher never got street.

and he was Geordi La Forge, hard to spell but never question his hardness. dude can see with his sister's hairbow. and he had a rainbow in his backpocket.


i was a boy possessed with the power of the page. i was a boy on drugs. the drug of the Dewey Decimal System.

i read. and i was the better for it. i didn't get out of the inner city, the inner city came to me. books were my ultimate escape before video games. those dusty paperbacks with the questionable covers ripped off and dime-store mysteries and comic books and Encyclopedia Brown made me compassionate. when Goodnight Moon was featured on the show i knew that book was gonna be a bestseller. i never did picture books, too many pictures, i was in it for the articles. those prayer circles were where i first met Mother Goose. both the Mother with the goose as a pet and the Female Goose who stood upright and carried a book in her hand, both covers.

public television holds a private place in my heart.

butterfly in the sky, i can go twice as high.........cos i'm still high from yesterday, 420 24/7

take a look, it's in a e-reader.......don't get me started

and now the hebrew hammer drops. tragedy time. Roseanne on Roseanne had an astonishingly extraordinary transformation. or extraordinarily astonishing. she went from fat dumpy housewife with the peepholed zingers to facelift, skinny, and rich. the character's progression mirrored the real person. did she become fat and rich and forget her fanbase? reneged on her roots? was the last season a dream or a trick? i say it was art. i always side with a writer. the final season, which critics and non-critics alike agreed was weird not in a good way, was desperate to find a salvageable exit. enter Roseanne and her controversial creative crutch. some felt the end made the mess messier. forever messiest. others were angry. why get angry over a show? i'm not a critic so i have yet to see. waiting on the DVDs from my NBA contact. we all have heard that Roseanne thinks Roseanne is her Shakespearean contribution to literature, and it is, it's a middle-class masterpiece. that ended. depressingly. but then again all endings are depressing.



Thursday, April 20, 2017


this little number became a pop-culture phenomenon. remember? when such things were a little more relaxed. there was a freeing freeze in the air, people could hang loose for the first time and try new things. they were too busy smiling to frown. maybe they came in to some money so they let bygones be bygones. they finally wrenched themselves out of that bad relationship and were ready to mingle. and experiment.

of course this show ISN'T another makeover show about shampoo and the latest date tips. it is ABSOLUTELY the time America mellowed and became more accepting of all people. it's a human interest story, and a triumph. you simply HAD to see these fabulous men as men, REAL men. cool dudes like your frat bros, cos they were. we're all human, we all laugh at the same bad jokes, get our feelings hurt deeply, whether we show it or not, and have shitty love lives. we all want the same things. we get it. you get it. why is there a divide? for fuck sake there is no hidden mask or fakery or naughty illuminati agenda under the tarp, no trap, no warping, just winning, no fear, except fear you create inside your warped mind. people. that's it, people. people who need people.

now it took me awhile to be so ribald and robust about this, everyone has to adjust to change, but this show was a breakout. and i'm not talking about acne, although the fellas could help you out with that and recommend the strongest alcohol patch. they were the breakout boys who finally allowed the country and Canada to breathe.


i was straight and a straight-A student and a know-it-all. it was good to be taken to my knees and floored a little bit. it allowed me to widen the aperture of my male gaze and truly see the world differently. everyone needs a breakthrough. you think you know but you don't know until you really know, you know?

three words: Carson Lee Kressley. this man is a gem. he is funny as fuck, clever as a well-coiffed fox, and he gets it. he gets life, the entertainment industry, and his place in both. and he looks like Cobain when he had the grunge locks. Kurt wished he were gay to stick it to the homophobes, so here we are. nothing sexier than confidence in one's own skin. and a nice pocketsquare. from the start Carson was the de facto leader of the group of groomers and a star. the starting star. he's killing it on Apprentice and i hope he has a long career. we all need a laugh with our gay best friend everyday now. mint chocolate chip with your chippy ain't enough.

metrosexual wasn't a dirty word anymore. it was sought. the ladies like it, right? at least one lady? all i need is one lady to.


Ted Allen: wine expert of the Beatles. i liked Ted. no i loved Ted. i don't like Seth's Ted. it's the glasses. he was cool, had that professorial New Englander thing going, astute, well-bred, well-read, and the best kind of foodie: a wino. i mean that in the most dignified way possible. i'm sure he was a crab connoisseur, too. you know what i mean. he smoked a bubbles pipe in private he had to. happy 420 everyone. he was my guy, my secret crush, and i hope he plays Professor Plum in the remake.

Kyan Douglas: the grooming guru. and all-around god. his name was Kyan after all. the Hootie and the Blowfish of hygiene. i always thought Kyan was a little jealous of Carson, Kyan was supposed to be the leading man, the tall dark hunk of the show. i was tempted to go on this show knowing full well Kyan would have been the one in my bathroom ordering me to take a shower and not caring that i was an artist.

Thom Filicia: the door man. if you needed a door, he was your man. or window or drape or rug or cup or posy or coffee table or a book about coffee tables on your coffee table that opens up and forms a coffee table. i use that Seinfeld reference because Thom looks like Jerry Seinfeld's cousin.

Jai: OMG JAI! i remember Jai! pop culture prince, you need a song, he owns it, his cousin has remixed it, he knows the club where it's gonna debut, and can get you tickets cos tickets have sold out. culture vulture implies the dark circling of vultures and picking of bones and such, let's just call him a maven. he was social before social media. and he tells you what to say on dates so you don't choke on your water and might eventually get laid. wingman extraordinaire.

sure it played into long-held stereotypes. or did it? i dunno, people are people, remember? this show put Bravo on the map. it's the only show i've seen on Bravo. before or since. i remember coming home from a long day of taking the bus and posing on the couch. i'd watch the show whilst dunking my head into a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream, afterwards scraping the sides of the tub using E.L Fudges as spoons. i would imagine my shack was one of those swanky Manhattan lofts i'd see on the show. i'd dance at midnight with the dining-room light on and the neighbors would get upset. they had to work the next morning or something. my next-door neighbor called the cops on me and accused me of being queer.


i'd be remiss if i didn't mention a show that was very special to me when i was a young kid of schooling age. i've had to undergo hypnosis to retrace the steps and pull the memories out of me cos this happened during a very small sliver of time. they wanted me to go to conversion therapy but i rejected that in favor of a short man with a Freud beard. the show was called QuizKids. no not the San Francisco one, the one from the '80s. i'm not sure if it was just a local show. it probably was. area schools from Los Angeles competed in this game show of general knowledge and a ding bell. the teams wore red shirts and blue shirts. this was before the gang wars. i remember the host wore a fuzzy light-blue sweater and i want to say he was Filipino. and the lights. there was this huge half-ring of circular lights in the back behind the kids. the lights got bigger the closer to the floor they were. when a student buzzed in the light array would go off, just that student's side, starting at the top small circles with thinning light down to the bright light of the big balls at the bottom. i remember that light setup distinctly. anyway. it was on at like 5AM Saturday mornings before the cartoons would start. right after the Knight Rider repeat from the week before. i was a strange kid. QuizKids, i know you're out there...


Wednesday, April 19, 2017


Mike Manley: JACKIE!!!

The Zard: why you cry? you never felt.

The Zard peers out from behind the tree-lined edge, peerless in height, length, weight, and gaunt. he shuffles the bushes with his hands. he is gripping a sword which blends seamlessly back into the pea-soup atmosphere. the Zard is a huge monster like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man but skinny. when he turns to the side he disappears cos he has no width dimension. he is a giant living breathing stick figure wearing a starred blue wizard cap on his head. his breaths are deeply shallow, and when he hiccups gales disturb the cloud swirls. it is raining hard unseen but the droplets turn more perceptible and rectangular as they swoosh over the plane of his body. like Tetris blocks. but there is still no light.

Mike: oh Jack you poor doomed sultry soul! i loved you. i showed my emotion to you. only you. you cracked the tough-guy exterior with your long nails. let the world see me now! i am crying. these are not the sky's tears!

The Zard: no one here. chickenshit. you love when she suck your little stick.

Mike: shut up! everything's little to you. i'm not scared of you. i'm gonna climb you like i did K2. and K1. and little-known K Zero. where's my pick? shit it was in the newsvan.

The Zard: your little matchcars are my playthings. i hiccup and blow them down the hill. you keep coming to same spot and i blow you again down the hill. you dumb. but funny. but now i'm bored. i need to be entertained. i need bigger.

Mike: what were your last words, babe? i must look into my mind's eye and crystallize them with spirit glue. your face was so frightened as you fell. let me get out my phone and record my memory of your message. dictate from beyond the grave, baby.

The Zard: stupid. phone waterlogged. recording gets people in trouble.

Mike: and out of it. what's your deal, demon?

The Zard: demon? that's harsh. i am, well, i am, that's it.

Mike: you waver between an English and Australian accent. when you insult you sound decidedly Moroccan. where you from?

The Zard: all over. baka. you see now that woman was a person, not just pillows.

Mike: curse me! i agree with you, mate, humans are sad. why must we confront nothingness after so much somethingness? death comes quickly but regret is permanent. and you never say the right thing. and you can never justify your actions. and the end is always longer than the beginning. from the moment we're born, we're babies with sorrys salivating our tongues.

The Zard: like snake. your snake is longer than most. supposably.

Mike: the screen is black. what do you want? why are you here?

The Zard: that's a stupid question. i was summoned.

Mike: there are no stupid questions. by whom?

The Zard: i was summoned. i do my job. you should do yours. i have been around for many years. i remember when this dump was green. now it's blue.


Ari and her husband are preparing dinner for their kids in total darkness. punctured only by brief glints of red.

husband: these chili-pepper lights are cool. so you took them from the mexican place huh.

Ari: relax. i got the enchilada. which was highway robbery. on the highway. it wasn't a total snowjob. it evens out. i hope i'm stirring correctly.

husband: watch it, that pot is hot.

Ari: and i can't see. you know all my life i always cooked the spaghetti for 10 minutes. but you know you should really cook it for 12 minutes. all those years eating al dente when it could have been fluffy noodles.

husband: i like them flowing. there's a lesson there huh. hey what's with the Germs burn? is that new? remember when we saw them in '77?

Ari: my first trip to scary L.A. you somehow pointed out Pat Smear in the crowd and said he was going places. you said he had a glint. you held my hand from all the moshers and held my nose when Daddy came to pick us up. in the chevy so you knew he meant business. you are amazing sometimes, husband.

husband: he had a unique way of moving to the music, swinging his arms side to side like jelly. he does the same thing now on stage except that's how he holds his guitar when he plays. memory is powerful, Arianna. sometimes it's all we've got. thin scenes which help us patch up the present. just remember that, dear. let it inform everything you do going forward. as we navigate this crisis. i'll be outside filling the sandbags. sand costs now. they're charging for it. looks like i'm gonna have to put aside my dream garden and use the soil for sand. they were flowering buds just this morning.

Ari remains silent in the darkness, looking straight ahead at the tile. around the painting. she would have said two things but thought it prudent to think them instead. she hated going forward. that term. and it's a little ironic she just came from the free beach.

Ari stirs the water and fumbles in the dark to find her plastic baggie. of Skittles. just a line at the bottom left. she struggles to loose the slide clasp and invert the bag. she tries for her mouth but can't see. she holds out her hand and hopes for the best. the line of six Skittles drops and scatters all over the kitchen tile floor. the cats come out of nowhere and sniff the hell out of that floor for the candy.

children: thank you, mommy! we were wondering where they were! the cats were lost for hours, we were crying.

Ari is shaking and picks up her phone.


at the station the floorboards are shaking and the autographed pictures of talent are swinging all over the grounds. Goody Paul is hanging on to a toplight flickering the studio in and out of viable cameratime.

Goody: i think it's good enough. as long as we don't plunge for more than a minute. got this, toots? okay let's bring out Harry.

Harry Styles runs for cover and jumps onto the couch and crouches, planting himself as best he can. his manager is nowhere to be found.

Goody: mate...

Harry: don't call me mate...

Goody: i have to admit i was surprised. you're the second coming of Bowie. with that Pink Floyd vibe.

Harry: i thought you only knew rap. how long do you have to wait before it's not too soon? okay, i AM Bowie! i'm Bowie reincarnated. i believe in that spirit shit. and more like White Eskimo Floyd. and Zayn is a traitor!!!

Goody: i was expecting bubblegum.

Harry: i hate gum. gets stuck in the ladies' hairs. so are you excited for that Korea II thing? you gonna enlist?

Goody: fuck no i'm not gonna enlist. i didn't vote for any war.

Harry: saws. just making small talk. i don't know how to talk to you yanks. it always has to be patriotic, right?

Goody: Taylor Swift would agree. she voted. don't you owe Taylor your career? she taught you to play guitar.

Harry: not true, i taught myself. badly. then i started emulating Pat Smear but then Taylor came into my life and ruined everything.

Goody: you could have really been Bowie, not copied him. but you had to go for the ladies. bring out Fed.

Federer strolls in under cover of night. only his apple watch shines. and his personality.

Harry: not cool, mate. that Dunkirk part was mine!

Federer: no. i am cute for the part. i'm a better actor than you. i am more loved. my fans are better. i have more followers.

Harry: no you don't! i'm a better actor. i can do Mick Jagger.

Federer: i did Mick Jagger. literally.

Harry: what does Dunkirk have to do with you? that's MY history.

Federer: Dunkirk was once part of Switzerland. the whole world was once Switzerland. we were all neutral. i love Batman more than you, that's why Nolan gave it to me.

Harry: no, me! have you seen my Batman sheets?

Federer: do they smell like you? my hair is more flowier than yours. i am the only man in the world who can pull off a manbun.

Harry: ...

Federer: i ain't done. you ain't stylin'. i am styles. i have a Wimbledon cardigan, fleece, vest, turtleneck, hooded windbreaker, rule-breaking browncoat, sweater, and jacket that makes me look like a butcher.

Harry: i have a sexier smile. your smile is goofy. how hard is it to hit a ball?

Federer: what if i hit you!? *lunges*

Goody: gentlemen, gentlemen. you brought Federer to blows, what does that say about this storm? it's coming around the eastern seaboard and should hit when you're sleeping landfall just southwest of the Grand Prismatic Spring. time unknown. that's it for me, folks, signing off.

Federer: wait...

Goody: oh yeah. Roger Federer, you ARE the father.

Federer: no i'm not! i saw it on reddit. i want to congratulate Serena Williams...

Goody: got my cards mixed up again. have you ever met Serena Williams?

Federer: no.


Mike's phone buzzes blue.

Mike: a-ha. yes! i knew it! i don't believe in miracles but my love does.

The Zard: you have a lot of love. how can that be?

Mike: honey, it's me. Ari?

Ari: *low* Mike it's me. i need your ear i'm going through some stuff.

Mike: not my penis? sorry, nervous. i can't just this minute, babe, i'm dealing with something major here. i'll get back to the house as soon as i can, with bells on...

*she hangs up*


Ari takes the pot of water she had been stirring and lifts it up over her head. her husband stops her mid-pour with his soiled hand.

husband: Ari! that's scalding hot water! you can't feel the tiny bubbles!? there's no pasta in here? what were you going to do?

Ari: sorry. i'm tired.

husband: it's okay, kids. acting out a scene. that wasn't a clanging metal pot hitting the floor and vibrating, it was a sonic boom. hug me, dear. tight. we never hug anymore. we kiss but that's for show. what's wrong with you?

Ari: how long is a piece of red string?

husband: sit down. don't stand up again you make me nervous. i'll set out the churchkhela.


The Zard: no woman no cry. she know you work. you know you should try live without any expectations. easier. no assume, ass.

Mike: expectation is the killer of hope. we should all live like Jackie did. she really understood what made the world tick. she wasn't booksmart, she was people-smart.

The Zard: she had 3 degrees. never noticed, huh?

Mike: if they had been rolled-up and sticking out of her cleavage. she knew Bump would win. she felt it. and if you hung your star to him you'd get burned. she felt up Bump. but i can see clearly now, the rain is clearing things up. this horrid rain. this rain's not right. there's something rotten about it. it smells.

The Zard: you smell, human. you smell good. now is time to work.

The Zard timidly lifts up his blade from behind his back, which is fully visible. the sword rests circumspect at a 90 degree angle in the lower left quadrant.

The Zard: The Zard loves new toy. makes centuries a snap. makes centuries snap. time of the flood.

stormwaters rise precipitously, lower winds howl, and the bridge gives out. the only connecting bridge collapses.

The Zard: you know last woman word? she say, HOLD ON, BABY TOY!


Parker Lewis Can't Lose was my first indication that something was wrong. was different. was it me or was it my tv? the Nineties were starting, this new delicious decade was filling up the lower lids of my eyes and my consciousness was about to be canceled. it was time to take the trip that would end my life.

i haven't felt this good since i watched Just For Kicks but that might have been the AYSO nostalgia calling.

in 1990 i was 12 years old, right on the cusp of all human understanding. i knew what sex was and i wanted some. i loved homework. it's a blessing that i was able to experience both homework and tv in my life. my life ended with my childhood. i never had a female principal who wasn't a nun. this show was right up my alley cos it was weird, it could be weird for the both of us, for i dare not be weird in those fraught times for fear of being shoved in a locker. y'know i was never shoved in a locker. bless. don't know if our lockers were too small or the nerds were too fat or it just wasn't en vogue for our bullies to try such a thing. that seems very much just a "tv" high school thing.

this was the birth of quirk, the early strains of anti-comedy. and where the hell is Corin Nemec?!

this was on FOX which retained the alluring aura of anti- in those days. the station of the Simpsons and Married... with Children, the keepers of the flame, the nadir of naughty, sex jokes at 8PM! Al Bundy (whom i always confused with the serial killer) and his shoes and beer and hand down his pants, and Homer Simpson eating all those radioactive donuts, thank god these were not my beloved father or i'd be dead right now.

it was about high school and i was starting 7th grade so this was my future. y'know NOT ONCE was my 7th and 8th grades ever called MIDDLE SCHOOL. or even junior high. it was always just 7th grade and 8th grade. was it cos it was Catholic? we'll never know.


fuck i don't remember that smoking hot blonde in the cast

Parker, the cool-as-the-other-side-of-the-pillow babyfaced assassin with the creepy shit-eating grin and Richie Cunningham haircut who, well, couldn't lose. he wore those skinny pants and garish floral-print untucked shirts everywhere. i had those same shirts but wasn't nearly as cool. dude what happened to this dude?! Corin Nemec had the keys to the kingdom and disappeared. i respect his wanting to leave the business but why not sell your soul for a few years and see how it tastes? i mean he was poised to be the next Brad Pitt. or better yet Johnny Depp!

frankly i don't remember any of his too-cool-for-school tv-Ferris-Bueller lines. more permanent in my head is the vivid memory of Corin on a hidden-camera show getting pranked on. cos you know he was the master of pranks on his show. that was the only time i saw him do anything outside-related. i know there's an interview of him as an old man but it's too sad to watch.

Mikey Randall. what happened to this dude as well! he was supposed to be the next Richard Grieco! i remember his black shirt and the unbuttoned other shirt over that that was always plaid. this was kinda my first indication that plaid was gonna be the material of the decade. quoting song lyrics, spouting sweet nothings in cheerleaders' ears, guitar-type. and a loser i guess cos only Parker wins.

Jerry Steiner a troubled nerd involved in NASA and conspiracy theories. and he wore that grey trenchcoat which was not cool. even at a tender age i could tell that was creepy. school shootings weren't a thing yet. i imagined he would have openly masturbated on school grounds if he could. into computer games, i'm assuming. Mario honk. kind of a needy Inspector Gadget. he wasn't whining, that was his normal speaking voice. but he had that Ben Stiller hair and goofy grin and he was funny as fuck so what are you gonna do? he was me and i was him.

Grace Musso my first older woman. Melanie Chartoff had dem gams in those silk black heels. i wonder how good she looks now. i'd take her acting class. i'd get coached by her. never had a female principal i could fuck so she was it. everyone else's Mrs. Robinson was actually Mrs. Robinson, i never saw that movie, Principal Musso was my Mrs. Robinson. she was constantly fed up with Parker but was always cute when she was angry. she had that famous "thumb swoosh" gesture. always wanted her to thumb-swoosh my ***

Maia Brewton! oh Maia i uh had the largest crush on her. give me a break i was but a boy at the time. Shelly Ann falling gracefully into that snarky younger-sister mold. yeah i saw that babysitter film she was in where she plays the same part, knowing more than she should. this girl fomented destruction and it was hot.

KUBIAC! really the star of the show. Abraham Benrubi's breakout. ever since then you've seen him everywhere, right? you know who Abe is, Abe will play the gentle giant, or tough, in something you will have watched, you know that face, full beard or scraggly beard. here he's a baby...giant. he plays the dumb bully trope well, the lumbering lug, the Clint Eastwood cut-eye sliver stare, the Hulk movements, the insatiable hunger, the stupid slow glow. PLOT TWIST: it was all an act! he's really smart. and Abraham in real life is a scholar, right? PhD?

oh and LEMMER! fucking Lemmer! i had forgotten about Lemmer! but now i remember. my first goth! before i knew what "goth" was. i swear between Lemmer and The Munsters i was getting a dark subliminal education! he was also my first asshole. and my first slicked-back straight-as-fuck raven hair in a ponytail. and first all-black ensemble. and first tongue like a snake. silver snake. or black snake. or skinny black snake. not an anaconda. thin pallid Richard Grieco? he slept upside-down perched to the ceiling!

if you don't watch this show, it's your loss






P: Psi Factor, supreme space show, i LOVE Matt Frewer and think he's severely underrated, he's a BRILLANT actor in the canadian sci-fi generation who should have seven Emmys, been in all the best shows, and the weird factor of having Dan Aykroyd (?) host, but i couldn't remember any of the episodes or plotlines. X-Files ripoff but a good X-Files ripoff. Party of Five, more serious than Everwood. JLH's tits, those were seriously huge. Peep Show, saw one half-episode. Pensacola: Wings of Gold and The Daily Buzz kept me company right after dad's death. Andrea was on both. Phineas and Ferb, greatest G-rated show there will ever be. Pinwheel, dank. The PJs, danker than dank. there's something about urban clay that makes you feel alive. and less animated than what you're witnessing on screen. Punky Brewster, too disturbing. Primeval, never the same after the main character got killed, which is a brave thing for a show to do, and the bird with the huge tits left.


Tuesday, April 18, 2017


warm. cheery. good tidings. that is Ozzy Osbourne. no seriously. The Osbournes will (i think) be the only reality show i talk about for this because it was not really a reality show, it was good. it was more an invitation to enter the living room of this beautifully quirky rock-star family who were really just like you or me, except with cameras everywhere. crazy idea, huh? what made it work, as what makes any documentary work, are the subjects, and this family was just good people, they were a rad group, they were cool. they were the furthest thing from smelling their own farts or thinking they were God's gift. if anything they were the Devil's gift. and the Devil is always out there having fun.

they were wacky, goofy, didn't take themselves too seriously. and their English accents helped, it made their jokes funnier and their antics strange and european. the British laugh is intoxicating. whether Ozzy spoke with an accent is still hard to tell.

remember when MTV was good? when you looked forward to clearing your schedule at night? when you could order steak in with your tv family and hang out? this show is still MTV's all-time most popular and deservedly so.

let's first talk about Sharon Osbourne, the milf matriarch and driver of the show. i don't know about you, but i think Sharon Osbourne is really cool, like one of the coolest people i've ever "met". she's sexy not so much from looks as from character. from the start i enjoyed her, i fell for her whip wit. she's just charming, humble when she stories about how she first met Ozzy as a plain manager with auburn hair and fell in love with the old brute. that was sweet. when she dyes her hair red she gets all the amenities of being a ginger and turns into a rockin' mama who's not afraid to curse and be the dynamic stronghold who keeps the shit together through the trial waves. her cancer storyline deepened my love for her. i dunno but i want Sharon to be my mum. my second mummy.

i hope she and Ozzy can work things out. i know tv is a fantasy but that's why we love it. we don't want real life to intrude. we have a glorified version of Lucy and Desi in our heads. but if it's not meant to be i guess real life won. i did like how Kelly was quoting "Lemonade" lyrics on her insta captions after the split. if it's true Ozzy what the fuck are you doing?! this is Sharon Osbourne, the greatest woman in the world!

in discussing Ozzy we must discuss that he is crazy. or is he? is it all an act? at any rate he's gentle and that's what counts. he's not "metal", that's the most metal thing he can be. i remember the scene with the bubble machine and he getting all flustered over that. and Sharon's dark premonition that things were going too well for the clan so something bad was gonna happen, and it does right on cue with the ATV accident and Ozzy's near-death. thank God(?) he pulls through and is back to being Ozzy. Ozzy said he was stoned throughout the run of the show...don't worry, mate, no one noticed. those shivers were from being cold, right Ozzy? i mean he's not really a Satanist, right? that bat was plastic, right?

i developed a crush on Kelly Osbourne. i had it bad for her. i still have one. i'd marry that girl if i could. there's something about her. cos she's thicc? her punk hair? her burgeoning voice? cos she's Hildy Gloom? as with all things, it's probably the accent.

speaking of marriage you had Robert the orphan boy taken in and whom Sharon wanted Kelly to marry. Robert ended up in an insane asylum so i related to that.

Jack was such an embarrassed softspoken boy in those days. except when he was chewing out Melinda. he quietly flipped through his CD collection on that infamous MTV Cribs episode which served as the prepilot for the show. i remember him raving about AIC and SOAD. since then he's turned into a headstrong and responsible father. who likes video games. i always liked his look, the glasses things, man, that was oddly hipster and a cool contrast. it was as if Jack should have been Michael Stipe's son.

Melinda the Australian nanny. let's not get into that war again.

and poor Minnie Osbourne! the cherished dog whom Sharon you could tell loved more than any other family member. that stunt where i and the rest of the viewers thought Minnie was dead as the cliffhanger into the next season was downright cruel. but also strangely satisfying when you learned Minnie was okay and it was all a devilish Osbourne practical joke. perfectly Osbourne with the gallows humour. R.I.P. Minnie.

and poor Aimee Osbourne! who was kinda treated like a dog. Aimee refused to be a part of the show and thought the whole reality thing cringey, which it is, it's very intrusive and no sane person would do this for free. i feel sorry for her. i don't know if she possesses the requisite shamelessness needed to be an Osbourne. i'm not sure if it's that she's too much of a lady or she has a stick up her ass. at any rate it's just devastating to have no mention of your name on the show and all the family portraits have you scissor-cut out, your possessions moved, your room blocked, no trace, like you've never existed, like you were never born. she was this ghost who hovered over the house. she was there but not there. i hope they've since reconciled. you see Aimee alone in pictures and you sigh. ghosts aren't scary, estrangement is.

i always wondered how Aimee would have been on the show. more like Kelly or Sharon? that's what fanfiction is for.

the Osbournes. the family you came home to. they looked like The Addams Family but weren't industrial, they were your neighbors next door. like Pat Boone. they were cooler than your family.




Other contenders: The Oblongs, getting into adult swim again. O'Grady, milking the Degrassi success on The N. One-Punch Man, too new. The Outer Limits, the '90s version i love too much to write about and open my secrets box.

and of course The Office. this has been written to death. i have written about every aspect of this show, what it meant to me, my life experiences as regards this show, my incidents, extras, viewer commentaries, bloopers, music videos and monkeys and so forth on every platform conceivable. there is nothing more to say. so just dance. dance some MC Hammer shit.



Monday, April 17, 2017



i vividly recall this exact commercial all these years later. i first saw the promo in my 7th grade room as i finished up puffing the blackboard erasers. i remember where the monitor was, i remember the fishing scene, the rowboat, the crystal lake, the rifle shotgun blast.

now i didn't come to this masterpiece right then and there. i was a sallow boy who was immune to the ways of the world. i came to Nirvana and this show later when i was a matriculating master. but i remembered that ad, i will always remember that ad...

it's cos i subsconsciously knew that i had to watch this show. no i had to inhale this show, eat the language of it, let it steep my cells and spread my pores with its essence. this show is a movement, it's a call to intellectual arms, a command to pick up a book and start reading and pick up another one. to learn art and philosophy and then to unlearn it only to have it be second nature as you go about your life hunting and fishing and talking to your neighbor a mile away in a log cabin. you have to be invested here, and willing to use your swords of speech and your arsenal of assets. you have to wear many hats and be many asshats. the imagination of words. you have to be of a certain mindset and constitution to appreciate this extraordinary play, the mindset of unlimited knowledge and of course you have to love the Constitution.

Northern Exposure is the smartest show of all time. you wouldn't think it looking at that promo, right? i mean why would florid vocabulary be needed in the deep woods of a "backwoods hick" town like Cicely, Alaska? that's the point. oh that's the point. and that's the first feint. i appreciate this thing as my baby cos this show is rightly and evermore the ultimate writers' dream. it's tailor-made for writers, it's a writer's show, not a show based on celebrity. the script is king, not the actors nor the scenery nor even the famous director. although the cold blue green scenery is sublime.

i really got into this show just as i was experiencing freedom for the first time. my move to Berkeley fit nicely with Joel's earthshattering move to Cicely. i finished up the series on unspooled video cassettes during my tumultuous junior year which took three years. in the interim i took a class which seemed like my mania talking at the time but ended up being my greatest move with my greatest friends made. it was a female sexuality class and i was one of the few horny males in it. the co-teacher was a wiry student intern with a mop of frizzy red hair who looked very much like a college Jane from Jane and the Dragon now that i think back about it. she lifted the vines off my co-op door and entered my sanctuary one Thursday afternoon. she wanted to spend some time with me. me! cos she was giddy finding out we were apartment complex neighbors. she climbed into bed with me! we watched an episode of Northern Exposure together! i had never had a girl friend before, that is a girl who clearly just wanted to be friends. but it was like i was sleeping with my teacher and that was hot to me. she later remarked how she thought the Indian was gorgeous, or at least the goth dude who played the Indian was. i think that's where my whole goth thing blossomed, from wanting to impress her forever. we had half-opened cans of coke that were hard to reach on the hardwood floor since my bed was 3 feet high like a fucking fairytale. the second she left the area where our cokes were was covered in ants. but at least the ants came AFTER. they didn't get in her hair. victory.

Joel Fleischman the big time big city Big Apple doc who it's a big misunderstanding and wants to get the fuck outta Palin Country. Rob Morrow played the part brilliantly with an annoying arrogant snooty snotty smarm, later warming to his surroundings. or cooling to them. mostly because of Maggie the bush pilot and babe of the show. Janine Turner was at her vampiest in a plaid shirt and lumberjack pants ironically. the big scandal was when she cut her hair pixie-cut. i distinctly remember the episode where the two fucked. i remember dialogue about scratching nails down backs that i had never heard of before. i learned about life on tv.

Maurice by Barry Corbin up there in the Johnny Cash cowboy hat, the rifleman in the promo and all-around military guy who was as you'd imagine, tough-as-nails and not taking any of Joel's urban hippie shit. cos Maurice was country and urbane. i remember under Maurice's fire and deer mount he goaded Joel into singing The Internationale to see if he was a Communist spy. speaking of hippies, Chris by John Corbett was the freshfaced poet free spirit hunk of the show who learned the arts in prison and was the philosophy-spouting disc jockey liberal who just wants free love. and he gets it. i remember him waxing on and on about a six-point buck deer hunt kill. Shelly the beauty queen valley girl who marries the much-older Holling. and btw, let's all take a moment and say the name Holling out loud. that is such a beautiful name for a man.

Ed Chigliak, the cutie my teacher fawned over, the Native Alaskan aspiring filmmaker who is tactless, love that word, and adorable. he gets cock-deep into the native spirits of the land, Low Self Esteem among them, and he loves Woody Allen and Fellini. see even when you're simple on this show you're complicated. Ruth-Anne the old biddy who can still fuck and snags a man and loves her films as much as Ed. look at precious Peg Phillips up there, don't you just want to eat her? the conversations with those two were like my quickhand encyclopedia of movies. i listened and didn't have to go to film school.

Marilyn Whirlwind, Joel's immovable Native guide played by cutie Elaine Miles who offers up spiritual sagacity from her people to try to calm the neurotic New Yorker down, which of course makes Joel more exasperated.

and various other oddballs and eccentric village folk

the big scandal was when they didn't renew Joel's contract and Rob Morrow went into the wilderness for the final season. Paul Provenza gave it the old college try, like i was doing, he tried, he really tried, he gave it the old Italian try, but it just wasn't the same. and his wife Schowdowski cos, well, Schowdowski.

and ADAM ARKIN! he was the best on this show! i fell in love with Adam (not the First Man) here and started watching Chicago Hope as religiously as ER. i know, i'm a traitor to the stethoscope.

the point was EVERY character no matter his station was INTELLIGENT AS FUCK. they spoke on a higher level with an advanced vocab and breadth of knowledge they shouldn't have for their lowly job. that's what made it quirky. that's what made it different. that's what made it noble and edifying. you know when you watch a youtube vid or clip or show and you feel you've actually gotten dumber for having sat through that dreck? it was the exact opposite after an episode of Northern Exposure. you wanted more. you wanted the next lesson. this is the only tv show i ever watched while taking notes.

Northern Exposure was the writer's wet dream.





other contenders: that country in the news. New Zealand. The Naked Brothers Band and their obscure poo-poo juice, Nancy Grace, Naturally, Sadie which was a sciency and Canadian Being Eve, Neighbours, fraught, okay the only scene i ever remember is that ethnic girl with the black hair who has a diving accident and is confined to a wheelchair and her mouth is all messed up so that her accent is even harder to understand, Nick Arcade and Guts inferior to Temple, Night Court with that catchy intro, Noddy i never saw only heard weird rumors about, NYPD Blue which was a late bloomer but that Jimmy Smits can act, huh? La Raza proud and hope there's more 24, with Carter or maybe even a brand-newier cast next time. and Evangelion which is too insane to even begin to explain.



1. when did you see your first naked woman that was not a family member? not applicable

2. when did you see your first naked man that was not a family member? does me count?

3. what were the circumstances of each situation? one day when i was twelve i took a shower and it wasn't about cleanliness anymore. my dick had arrived and sprung up to meet me. from that first boing we became the bestest of friends.

4. at what age did you first witness sexual nudity? was it online or in print? Tijuana bible. Mexico, 1985. my crazy uncle Humberto Eco took me out for drinks at a border dive. i was way too young. he told me the worm in his drink helped him be at one with the water. he was a fisherman. he gave me a booklet with Popeye on the cover so i was stoked. by the first page i asked my uncle why Olive Oyl had three noses. he said those were her saggy boobs. from that little chance encounter on grew my hardcore porn habit to this day. just kidding, i quit. Sasha Grey quit so i quit.

5. sexual revolution, when was yours or it hasn't happened yet? we're waiting for the midterms and then it's gonna be gangbusters, you'll see.

bonus: what's the best sex advice or sex education book you've ever read? (yes it must be a book, could be online but a book)

The Joy of Sex is the greatest sex book of all time. no, The Joy of Sex is the greatest book of all time. you gotta get the original. that thing is all-natural, man. it's raw, baby. it's hairy armpits and '70s bush. i found a copy in my parents' basin and hid it under my bed. then my mom found it while vacuuming. i knew i should have done my own chores. despite being a writer, i simply could not come up with an excuse. i stood there in shocked silence as my mom held the book in her hand and asked me where i got it. i don't remember the next three days...


Saturday, April 15, 2017


Jordan Catalano, JC, Jesus Christ, Easter eve, this can't be a coincidence...

i don't recognize Claire Danes now. she's blonde. she must be a spy. the only Claire Danes i will ever recognize is Angela. and not just Angela. Angela with the red hair. and not just Angela with the red hair. Angela with that certain bottle of red hair that was her own, it was like a dark strawberry color. Angela with the Angela hair. Angela with the good hair.

we all know the lore of this show. it came out of nowhere on ABC and changed life as we know it. it wasn't so-called, if anything it was too real. the show grows in legend because of its status of having only that one year. that's what makes it not another show, it takes on this mythic quality, the episodes become sacred because there are so few, you pore over each episode line by line second by second memorizing that precious script because all the words are brilliant. you must savor these characters, the time they are in, the era, the mood, the freedoms since continued and taken away, the attitudes hence betrayed and removed. our hearts hurt as we watch the last episode because we know in the back of our ponytailed heads that these wonderful people aren't coming back for a second season. whatever cliffhanger threads will be forever left unresolved. we can only imagine what it would have been like. fanfiction only goes so far to ease our suffering. thus this show rests on an otherworldly ethereal cloud, forever frozen in time, never bending to the passage of time and future memes but rather locked in grunge teenage rebellion forever. not even Kurt Cobain could maintain such a feat.

in a debate with Skins this is the greatest depiction of school ever. it's raw, real without being phony, and bullshit-cutting. Angela is the quintessential moody teen, forever basking in a plaid shirt and the embodiment of '90s youth. she wants to fuck Jordan Catalano but who doesn't want to fuck Jordan Catalano, it's Jordan Catalano. i wanted to fuck Jordan Catalano by the end of it.

btw who knew Jared Leto would later go on to form a real band? and not like a cheap Hollywood band like Randy Quaid's dungeon music, a good band, on par with Imagine Dragons or whatever. it all started when Jordan Catalano was in a band.


she'll do that with Leo later. Bess Armstrong plays the milf i mean mom Patty, who wants desperately to speak to her aging daughter on her level, wants to connect with her on a deep level, but can't, because it's impossible. that's what makes the mother/daughter dynamic in literature so enticing, no matter how much the mom wants it, she will never be young the same way her daughter is young. instead she gives disapproving looks and her voice is filled with condescending tones, their fights are magic relish.

Wilson Cruz's Rickie is the most fascinating of the bunch. he was electric on screen, flamboyant and fierce and fabulous. his presence didn't chew the scenery, it digested it. this was maybe the first time you were witnessing a gay person on screen and having to reckon with the fact that he was a person like you or me. he became your sidekick despite yourself cos he was cool. he got bullied, savagely. that's when you knew this was a show. he became everyone's gay best friend. and Wilson is a cool dude, he liked all the insta comments of a pic of him discussing this show in the caption on Cecily's page one time.

there is no one more dangerous than a righteous sadsack virgin. enter Brian Krakow, whom they played well as the childhood friend of Angela. the neighbor who as they both grow up strains the bond when you start looking for real relationships. suddenly he's the creepy neighbor with the weird jewfro shunted to the side by the cool band frontman bad boy, even though he knows her better. fraught friends and this happens with everyone i think as they mature. it's those unrequited casualties that you have to own up to. you change but how much are you willing to change? i remember that intro and him riding his bike at night and i decided to ride my bike at night for the first time. i wasn't into questionable photography however...

Devon Gummersall, i'm sure he was called Gumby at one point.


those are truly lauded strains of music. Rayanne Graf the second coming of Janis Joplin.

Catalano who has a secret, i wish they would have had Catalano not say any lines and just look achingly across the room to Angela all the time for effect, he was a pro of the unspoken enticing bored sigh.

Cherski the casualty of the female persuasion. Sharon is the good girl mom wants for Angela but of course those damn hormones have to kick in. she reminded me of Ashley from Degrassi. i wanted to see Sharon become a goth mistress of the night and keep of vial of Catalano's blood around her heart. sigh, the second season...

Danielle the sister. now you know how most shows have the younger sister be preternaturally smart or smartass but this one deserves to be. she's the runt of the litter and gets trashed on. she tries to avoid it but always ends up in the line of fire between mom and her older sister's fits and just wants to have rants of her own. she just wants to eat her sprouts at the dinner table in peace. sarcasm is her tool. she would undoubtedly have become a narrator in her later years. i felt sorry for her by the end, she sees Angela as her future and it scares her.

Graham the put-upon dad (all show dads are put-upon) who coincidentally also wears a plaid shirt.

Tino who is talked about but never seen (i love this Heather Sinclair trope in television) who probably looks exactly like Michael Jackson.

i remember years after the fact watching repeats of this beloved show on MTV. maybe MTV can get its act together and do the second season as planned and be relevant again.

is there a suicide? maybe. some current shows are following this lead pretty well if you know what i mean.

there's angst and then there's Angela angst.


other contenders for the throne: Mad TV but it's too much, it's a blur after Stuart and Darrell, what happened to the brilliant Nicole Randall Johnson? i am truly alarmed at the reboot. Mad About You but where is Paul Reiser right now? watching Rachel Maddow. Mr. Meaty cos that was a thing with puppets i watched and felt i didn't need to work at a mall food court anymore after, i had the experience. wanted to continue with the show but Nick graveyarded the remaining episodes or cancelled them without telling anyone most likely. and Mama's Family which i adored but largely forgot, i always thought it a strange treat whenever Eunice showed up not knowing any of the show's Carol Burnett Show past, that came later for me.

but Iola, sweet Iola from Mama's Family. i have to remark because i will distinctly never forget. that stirring speech Iola gives about lost love in the Hawaii episode, landmark. cos you never pictured sweet ol' nobody neighbor lady with the poodle skirt and pearls to feel so movingly. i connected with Iola on a spiritual level.


Friday, April 14, 2017



* this is such a beautiful, low-key piece of documentary delight. it really deserves a better title.

* documentaries aren't boring if the subject's not boring.

* you're gonna forget how old this is.

* Gumball real streets and exteriors and interiors and sky, but who did it first? this is old, remember?

* always show how much toilet-paper you have left

* always jarring when the voices are SUPER realistic

* rap name or Japanese name, which is cooler?

* grandma was lying to you. it means "grandma" in Japanese

* Miyazaki should just relax the copyrights, after all anime is a black hole

* dinosaur hunters hate dinosaurs.

* America's Scariest Home Videos

* young Mer-Man

* five eyes, super-enlightened, hence the calm voice

* except non-gender-specific monsters

* fried, bad for you, as a monster and as food

* mom likes violent video games and ecchi games.

* T-Kesh: can we do away with the log then?
mom: no, i want to see all the gore and porn you get up to.

* water is amazing

* the two kids in the background are headed for under the bleachers...

* T-Kesh, don't say it, we can use another plotline. like, i got one: how unexpectedly bad at swimming you are and you get cut from the swim team.

* i always found those open-air cafeteria lunch tables depressing. i'd be too sad to eat. we had something similar in private school, made of wood painted red. it just looks like cattle herded into a stone box.

* bully is short and not allowed to use swear words. realistic.

* the bully has a test 6th period he studied hard for so

* T-Kesh is a lover not a fighter. your girl just likes 'em big, boy, deal.

* Jay Cutler's butt. sorry.

* football, this is where this story loses all of the audience watching it.

* please, the Dan Marino thing is still painful

* coming-of-fin. the music, have you noticed the music? the best music is unnoticeable.

* you can't teach size. but you can pay for it.

* Black Flag swinging tits

* young Kurt Cobain

* we never had a speed-limit sign poled right on school grounds like that. our buses got into multiple accidents.

* Kurt: it's okay, i said if he left you alone he could be the drummer for Nirvana.

* bully: yeah that'd be awesome. but what is a video game?

* bully: your mom's hot.
T-Kesh: what?
bully: nothing.

* bullies make the best friends........that can't be right...

* i could have sworn that was Brian Posehn.

* moral of the story: he did look like him.


happy easter