Saturday, April 29, 2017


this is the Jake Winters of my discontent. see that's the thing. there are a lot of shows here that i WANT to talk about. and i KNOW these shows, they've presented themselves to me in ads or some darkweb thing where i found out about them. i'm into the more obscure, the better. i mean why should Tom Cruise get all the glory just cos he pays his dues to the church.

but when i go to write, i realize that i haven't actually seen these shows. i know about them, i'm sure i would be fast fans of them if i did watch them, i know how clever and edgy and cutthroat and avant-gardesque and indie they are, but i forgot to make time to actually watch them. major unheralded all-around deep EXTERNAL and INTERNAL together sigh. and explode from without.

Yin Yang Yo? or rather Yin Yang Yo! i had forgotten about those damn bunnies. the hentai of this became more famous than the show. busy bunnies indeed. You Bet Your Life, Groucho and that other guy were a great funny host. i remember that awkward reboot with the other guy and the parrot puppet popping up or down or something. awkward is a relative term.


the one most egregious and hurts the most is YOUNG BLADES. remember PAX? what's Ion? it's set in Three Musketeersville and has the hot wench in the servant dress who surprises and swashbuckling horses and magic streams of water and everything else. i SHOULD be watching this, i should have it memorized, but i never actually did. i saw maybe the intro. i guess it was the whole PAX thing, i was in my atheist phase so religion was the devil.

anyway, look up Young Blades and let it cut you with a blunt round tip. and give you a 17th-century mustache ride.

The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles had all the hype and hoopla and cachet of Spielberg and a hot young cast and hot writers. the writers were hot, not just their work. all my class kids talked about it and wrote under-notes about it. i thought i saw it...........but i didn't. i went to SeaWorld that day instead. and got traumatized for life.

i know The Young Ones was a cultural phenomenon. i know it speaks to my punk roots. i know it's a guide to the modern-day chav. i think i need to get in the mood. i need to put on some Sex Pistols and hate Margaret Thatcher not cos she was a woman and dye my roots punk-color before i can prepare mentally to engage this show:


let's get to the good stuff. ZALMAN KING'S RED SHOE DIARIES. not the film, the show. who is Zalman King? some sleazy soft pornographer? nah, he's a cool guy who introduced romance into your dreary life.

this is Mulder but cool. this isn't frustrated Mulder, psychosomatic alien-masturbatory Mulder who lives alone in his D.C. apartment and his thoughts. this is your cool uncle who slips you Playboys in brown paper bags under your door when your folks aren't looking. he introduced you to JOAN SEVERANCE!!!

OMG remember Joan Severance? she was the queen of teh dream. she rattled your spleen and made it spit. prime cut of hot Houston hamhock. the Pirate Lass of Pussy. and she had such the perfect soft-core name, Joan Severance, like severe good looks and style and attitude.


Safe Sex, gotta love it! or Safe Sax rather, see the pic above.


i remember this one specifically for the strange light beam from above on that mad-scientist chair that looks like an alien abduction. nice tie-in.

Jake Winters is sad over the suicide of his beloved Alex. btw anyone know the actress who played Alex? can't find it. i want to see if she did anything non-nude. so in an effort to try to comprehend Alex's unwieldy passion, Jake enlists help. along with his dog Stella, he paces back and forth on railroad tracks reading the letters he solicits (not that solicits) from women all over the globe who anonymously write about their trysts, motivations to fuck, losing their virginity in the wildest way possible in garages and greenhouses, and first loves, which you never truly get over. your first loves are always your best loves. you spend the rest of your life searching for what you had that first time, your only time. Stella was so cute. i don't remember what Stella looked like.

now the one episode i really want to see is "The Picnic", or whatever the last one is, true last one, series finale which explains everything. i want to go back and experience Jake's flashbacks with Alex to find out why the soft beauty leaning on a tree had such fucked-up parents that she felt the need to die.

Fox Duchovny (David Mulder?) wears a Columbo trenchcoat and looks like a newspaper man, it's classic.


i was on the cusp of lechery when i got into this show. or it got into me one day after baseball practice. still a newbie with cable, the cableman said i might be experiencing accidental channels cos the signals would cross over crowded Los Angeles. i sure did. i could move the bunny-ears one way and get snow, the other way and get the faint signal of the Playboy Channel and Red Shoes. i dare not wear red tennis shoes to tip my parents off. i remember i was alone one night and saw, heard more, the Playboy Call-In Line Show and two naked centerfolds wearing nothing but tinfoil bunny ears egging on a male call-in caller to think of them naked as he cummed into his boot. 11 years old. scarred. not even socks, man. never the same, i felt like a freak from then on. different, at the chokehold chained leash of my puerile desires. and JUST THEN is when i saw the alien chair...


so what's it gonna be? where do you go from here? what are you gonna watch next? tv will always be there for you when your fickle frenemies aren't. your adult-swim imaginary friend. your TV pal and confidant. your lover. this is all the world you need. are you brave enough to walk the prank? be the target of some crazy kids? or are you more into the Puppy Super Bowl and Kevin Nealon? tv doesn't care, it will show you what's real, warts and all. it will rot every synapse of your brain till you're schizophrenic with samples and don't believe in anything anymore. except art. you will betray your beliefs and business meetings to catch an episode. you would rather watch a box than be the box. decompress and delineate and debate than date and dinner. did you know there are close to 500 different tv shows on right now? that's too many. what came first, you had no life so you turned to tv or tv gave you no life? in my case, yes. but one thing i know for certain: one day, when you least expect it, tv will save your life.

things i learned completing this challenge:


* i wanted to be famous...
* thank you for all the, sigh, love
* i actually did it! with no help! score one for the loners!
* Jane and the Dragon and 24 Hours in the ER. now you know. i can die happy.
* you don't have to go on vacation. simply miss work for a week.
* thank you for this test. i learned a lot. about myself. like i would rather be busy than bored...


now if you'll excuse me, my General Tso chicken is ready. i don't have time to eat it. better just eat the whole bag of seed i have a tummy ache. no fortune cookie for sobering bread? get that lollipop out my face!

oh, and when you're having a tough time and you're down in the gutter and your face is all rough dumps and you're feeling bad about yourself and you don't have time for self-care and you haven't made a memory that wasn't already in a tv script, remember that in life


Friday, April 28, 2017



* ready for some Friday Night Writes!!!?

* most gifs get annoying. but this is Rose having multiple orgasms.

* song? what song? Dean Martin? Frank Sinatra? Leonardo DiCaprio?

* the song makes me want to eat pizza.

* Pac-Man grid

* dealer: you're trading in your blue car for a red car. why?
man: five words: the color of my balls

* owl: i haven't seen tail like that since the Whovian Reunion.

* wife: why did you leave the searchlights on?
man: so the cops can recover the body.
wife: what?
man: cos that little wiggle you do with your ass on my cock is killing me.

* lyrics: or girl-on-girl. or guy-on-guy.

* girl: Daddy, where do babies come from?
man: whoa, the dealer has a fro!

* cows: we have tastier milk than you humans.

* girl: Daddy, did you make a baby?
man: ..............
girl: a baby dog?

* birds: worms, bees: Honey Nut Cheerios, got it.

* man: so that shaking of the vehicle in the end was just our family having fun?
wife: yes but i'm pregnant.
man: how?
wife: the gyration itself. i'm susceptible to rumble.

* wife: i hate camping.
man: and we're experiencing turbulence...

* wife: but my eyes aren't brown...


happy weekend. basketball or something


when i was coming of age i was a scared little man. i was 13 or something when 8th grade end loomed and i was terrified of my future. my brain was big, not my muscles. how would i fit in with the older stronger rougher boys? would it be the same religion? all religions are the same, right? i went from private school to a Catholic high school, which was the death knell of my social life. all boys, no girls. no distractions and also death. but since my life was over i had all the time in the world to concentrate on my studies. while others played basketball and fucked their basketball teachers and went to prom i would be busy organizing someone else's prom not going to it and sharpening my pencils over pizza on Friday nights. it was gon be fun. welcome to another edition of Friday Night Writes.

NO IT WASN'T. i had zero confidence in those days. even less now. you could knock me down with a feather. one leaf of a feather. i liked sports but not like that. the only weight i lifted was myself when i ran away from places. i was a nerd and a geek but the death knell was that i was a dork. under this extreme situation of godawful pressure i entered my first day of real school and was blown away by explosives. someone tried to blow up the school. the cool kids. i was ramshackled into the corner of geometry class. my pencils were sharpened but my mind was mush. next to me was an Asian with long hair split down the middle who wore sagging baggy pants with a loose snakeskin belt, the fashion of the day. yes, everyone seeing your drawers was considered cool back then. dude had on Ernie Rubber Ducky drawers which was the first sign that i could breathe. everyone called him Token Asian. they asked where he was from after they told him to return to where he came from. he said he didn't want to go back to Glendale, his Apperson was out of gas. you don't know how rad it was for a freshman to have a car. he said he was Thai, not Chinese or Japanese, so he was dubbed Thai Guy. he wore a tie when there was no dress code so that was unique. he might not have stood out from the incoming billion-student freshman class, but he stood out to me.

day one: i relaxed more. he asked for an eraser and i offered him a sharpener. i said he could keep it cos i didn't make mistakes, i got it right on the first try. that clued him in that i was smart. or at least secret clever. and i was right about not making mistakes. about him. i think he relaxed around me, too. he told me about his fraught home life and that his one saving grace was Saturday-morning cartoons. oh the saving power of Saturday-morning cartoons in those days!

day two: i was comfortable around him. even under the tension of my first-ever pop quiz.

Thai Guy: did you study?
me: i'll cheat off you.
Thai Guy: let's drown our sorrows in McDonald's ketchup at 3.

that was the one year they served pizza at McDonald's. the fountain-drink machine was broken.

day three: Thai Guy mentioned under his breath how everyone at this godforsaken religious school already assumed he was a Walking Stereotype so he might as well play off that. if anyone messed with him or me, he would crawl on his knees and assume the position, the Crane stance, and karate-chop the air and snarl his lips and roll the pupils into the back of his eyes rapidly and lick his tongue till the bullies realized American punches weren't gonna cut it.

Thai Guy: i don't care what my grandmother says, this school is shit. these are gonna be the hardest four years of our lives.

i feigned a knowing innocence at that remark as i stared hard forward.

Thai Guy: i worship my ancestors. i don't need their faith. i can curse them with one blow. let's get the hell outta here.

day three after school: my first truancy. i was brimming with berserker energy. we exited quietly careful not to trip the bell and the basketball team came to wish us well. they stood there, lined up on either side of us, calling us the filthiest of names and monkeying our fear. it was a Catholic cordon, a Crucible of chaos and confusion, and we didn't make it out without war scars.

Thai Guy held my hand the whole time and put us under his umbrella with the Japanese giant salamanders on it. they called us fags. we were trying to drown them out talking about our favorite tv show:

ironically, we were discussing how we wanted to fuck Rogue from X-Men in the asshole. we bonded over that. all the way home. well to his home. i asked him what his name was.

Thai Guy: A-Wut.
me: a what?

i never saw him again after that day. he transferred over to trigonometry. he was smarter than me. he was also just more knowledgeable about basic life and the ways of the world than me. i was REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY naive in those days.

X-Men was my oasis of calm on Saturday mornings after i spilled the cereal milk.


Rogue and Gambit are best ship. they win the war. the shipping war. sorry. they are best couple, OTP, and soul mates for life. Rogue taught me about sex cos this was the first time a cartoon character made me feel strange and tingly inside. other than Nanny's striped legs, my first fetish. did Rogue swing both ways with Jean Grey? sure, why not. we all know about the X-Men so i don't need to go in depth here. mutants vs. humans, allegory about being different in society and the need to fight against oppressive governments and so on. just wikipedia it, that's what i do. Wolverine gets way too much screentime, Jubilee gets too little considering she was supposed to be the protagonist every kid first experienced the world of X-Men through. female protagonist no less, a big deal in those days. there was a crackle of excitement when the first episode aired and you are taken on Jubilee's journey as she is introduced to the team and frightened over the government's mutant-destroying mammoth robots. you remember a time when Professor X WASN'T Jean-Luc Picard. and Magneto was actually formidable.

Magneto taught me about magnets.

but it's all about everyone's first couple. Rogue was sexy. he was built, she was.....i'm not gonna say it. she filled out that green-and-yellow suit nicely and had '80s holdover hairspray hair. there was just somehting about her Mississippi accent.

like say sugar. now say suga. see?

Gambit. too. his Nawlins accent seals the deal in bed. it's the French thing. French makes sex saucier.


i remember their kisses being more passionate. i remember an old car, and a spooky misty Louisiana bayou which set the mood, and there being tongue. i was really into this stuff, that relationship meant everything to us as novices in the ways of courting. our first mirror. as you can tell from above, Rogue is sick of hearing our matchmaking bullshit. she'll love who she'll love, she's fiery like that. she loves her baby Remy, not you.

the show and the comics dug deeper into their pasts, Rogue and the kiss which sealed her fate, running away from the X-Men, eloping essentially with Gambit on the run, liking a criminal, the Thieves Guild. that's what happens when you fall for the charms of a trickster. named Remy LeBeau. i mean the man uses playing cards for weapons. not even the King of France has a greater French name than Remy LeBeau. the brother. and her many aliases, once of which is Scarlett O'Hara. it's all very Southern-fried sprawling and Gone with the Wind and a plantation named Tara. Vivien Leigh never really wanted that part, did she?

Rogue and dat ass was my first undressing with my eyes and my slow devolution into male creep. which brings up X-Men: Evolution. sorry, out of time, gotta eat, great show, i loved the continuation, but it received mixed reviews. the original, as always, is still the best if you want a nice Nineties arched extensive plot that is from the comics but is anything but comic. and developed lines and myriad character turns and bad guys with soul and a nostalgia bullet for biscuit.

in honor of my lost friend i'm having a pizza i cooked. i flipped it over so it's just the crust showing and it got smushed together so it looks like a brown salamander.

i am lost but all is not lost for me. this show gave me my Thai Guy, A-Wut, the first-ever bromance in human history.


Thursday, April 27, 2017


don't blame me, blame Disney. Walk the Prank remains the most flabbergasted i've ever been at a show, and represents the greatest turnaround. it went from anathema to anthem for me in just a couple of episodes. i'm not sure i can pinpoint the exact moment of change, it was more a metamorphosis, the way Obama evolved on gay marriage or Jeff Goldblum turned into Kafka.

i was blasted with Walk the Prank while babysitting. which is interesting (or ironic?) cos most of the pranks are played on unsuspecting babysitters. i saw that pilot episode and i was floored. it was the most sarcastic, meanest, most cynical thing Disney has ever produced before or since. here were these middle (or junior-? middle) school children at that dreaded outdoor/indoor cafeteria table bullying each other with no hint of self-effacement or kiddish innocence. and they were the friends, not the bullies! the good guys. it was this strange scorched-earth policy adopted by youngsters clearly out of their depth at the hands of evil writers. oh writers i weep for you each night before my midnight snack of Gizmo cookies. like these were very knowing, adult, sneering insults leveled from one tyke to another like it was nothing, like air, like cotton candy. the girl punched as hard as the guys, even more so, cos you know how a lady's jeer can cut more deeply than a man's brass knuckles.

go online now that your parents are asleep and look up that first episode of this show. put it on and drop your jaw agape for a half hour. you won't believe what's coming out of these precious souls' pieholes.

what makes this show different from the myriad of tried-and-true, funny but ultimately repetitive and standard jokes shows, is the sitcom element attached to the pranks segments. i'm looking at you, Just Kidding, which was also on Disney XD. Just Kidding was creative, but soon they ran out of ideas and the kids weren't cute anymore. you started to side with the boring adults which is not good. i loved when Just Kidding would marathon during Thanksgiving, Pranksgiving, get it?, break along with that Japanese-game-show spoof, it was my oasis of calm, helped reduce the holiday stress. those days are gone and i'm back to being stressed.

Just Kidding was just pranks. Walk the Prank has a story element. there's an ongoing narrative which threads the prank ideas together. these aren't just a quartet (and Will) causing havoc in malls and mansions, the four kids go to school and you learn about their school days and some of their home life and when they all hang out after school at their Uncle Will's joke shop. i relate to Uncle Will cos Uncle Will has no friends his own age and nobody buys his pathetic whoopee cushions so his store is going under, and he's just trying desperately to justify his existence. like for instance if the prank involves aliens, watch all the aliens ones, they're the best, the storyline is one of the kids has to do a book report on if they think extraterrestrial life exists. the teachers at the school are all fat stupid clods. hero kids, remember? and there's the usual pre-teen angst about getting invited to birthday parties, first crushes, getting stuck in the school trophy case, that sort of thing. in the second season a new cast member and Prank Crew member is added, a foreign-exhange student from Russia who speaks in monotone about the horrors of life in Putinist Russia which is hardcore black humour. Bailey has a crush on him which angers the littlest one Herman, who remains unrequited. Bailey has her arm broken for most of the first season and it's fun to see how they incorporate that into the school storyline and the actual pranks. poor girl needs help=commence prank!

remember that youtube video i did ages ago when i still thought i would be the next Fred? it was about my theory of scaring people in these prank shows. if you were someone who had a bad past, lots of trauma in your past, you were predisposed to think the worst when you step out the door. you're expecting bad things to happen to you at every corner. so when you get put in a precarious situation or get scared or get blamed for something insane you didn't do or didn't mean to do and you have to pay up or go to jail, you say to yourself see? i knew this would happen and scream. the ones who have had a breezy, incident-free life thus far, when they're confronted with an unusual circumstance that can't be true but somehow is, they brush it off their shoulder and let it fall off their side. aliens? running through a priceless painting, ruining the irreplaceable? eh, whatever. happenstance. these people bat nary a lash at what's in front of them. they don't scream.

most of the victims are good sports about it. some you could tell were stoned. some run away. and friendships are lost cos the friend is the one who puts them up to it. Disney has lost Walt's meaning of friendship. i waited a long time but FINALLY the second season came on and i love early Saturdays again as i get treated to a DOUBLE DOSE of new episodes. let's keep the streak going till Kentucky!

Chance especially comes off as the worst kind of towheaded lout in the first episode but you grow into him VERY eventually. poor Herman just wants to join his older brother Chance in the first episode in the Crew. two words: inhuman initiation. and Dusty is Dusty, goes with the flow of the other pranksters and is quick with a quip and his disgusting grandma's dentures and relative to Uncle Will so you know how that family is. will Courtney Lynn get her just desserts is the question. oh yeah and that kid who eats anything in the cafeteria and anything in general so he's considered weird and gross. that says more about the cafeteria. and he's a growing boy, he should eat gross stuff.

Wonder Showzen is the most disturbing show of all time. the screams, oh the screams. it's Sesame Street on acid. like WAY more acid than even the Sesame Street writing room takes daily to come up with skits with puppets. there are parody songs and then there're songs which cut your pancreas they're too real. you learn math but it's the math of corrupt illuminati governments. letters, letters to your congressman unheeded. how young is too young to learn about slavery? gotta cut hate off at the bud i suppose. it makes fun of everything in life that's taboo and off-limits: race, politics, gender, food poisoning, child abuse, elder abuse, and the afterlife. it's not so much anti-comedy as anti-life. there's one skit about God's erections when cars crash. and it's funny as hell in an uncomfortably icky way. but man those poor kids they use to stand next to that deranged furry yellow puppet with the tiny green hat must all be traumatized by now. shame on you, Chauncey. is nihilism hilarious or a drag? i can't show any clips for fear of a fainting lawsuit. look it up on your computer box when your grandparents fall asleep.








Wednesday, April 26, 2017


the storm is a'here. the streets are canals but not the touristy kind. tourist attractions slide into traps. cul-de-sacs are sacrificial ponds cultivating new bacteria. large puddles pop up inside mailboxes. roofs turn into living rooms. deluge is the new darkness. the city has become a town.

the Zard lifts his elbow level with his nonexistent bellybutton, his hand gripping the sword which has afforded him bold new powers. the tip of the blade sprays the night ant people below with an arch arch of seething foam mixed with black winds, blistering bullets of water, pellets of putrid punch pouncing on the tiles of roofs everywhere, shaking shingles to shatter. from his dank spot on the hill the destroyer god fumbles around with his new toy.

the Zard: this is so much better than my old wand. a curse is a blessing you know.

Mike Manley has switched to the blue Redhead Henley fishing shirt. but he's still getting witheringly soaked.

Mike: i never thought of water as a weapon till now. water is supposed to preserve life. this fishing shirt is shit.

the Zard: don't blame the manufacturer. the material is fine. blame me. you always do.

Mike: it's not really a fishing shirt, just a shirt with many pockets. how am i gonna explain this to Ari? it will crush her. she's, uh, pretty hardcore religious, y'know?

the Zard: oh i know.

the gushing line of midnight-blue stream joins in a swirl around the eye of the Category 6 hurricane. that's when Mike notices through the sky tears.

Mike: the eye is directly above Ari's house! i'd know that chimney stovepipe anywhere. we made love on top of it. my first anal. very painful.

the Zard: you are too obsessed with sex. you should be obsessed with nature.

Mike: you bastard! i'd curse you out but i'm deaf and my mouth is filled with wind. i don't know what to do. what's that over there? oh yeah the new barcade which propped up by the edge of the city. it still has time. gotta motor my legs over there and get some cover.


at the station the generator has gone out. the second generator, the backup generator.

Goody Paul: well it looks like we're off the books. the clock is dead. unearthly sigh. okay dear you can come out now.

the plain woman behind the camera sticks her eyes out and skittishes over to crawlingly hug Goody's elbow. she paws at his sweater.

Goody: you know i love you, honey. but i have a reputation to keep at work. everyone here is alpha as fuck.

woman: i'll never tell. kiss me, Paul, on the teeth.

Goody: *kiss* you complete me, babe. your weirdness cums all over my two shoes. you wash me. but we have enough washing outside. alright, Dammi, break out your witch candles.

Dammi takes two clumps of cold wax out her pockets and fashions twin candles intertwining and kissing at the wicks. she rubs her fingers together and a small spark hovers over the twi-candle providing light and heat.

Goody: *hugging her* you melt my heart, Dammi.

Dammi: you have no idea.

Goody: any liquids?

Dammi: besides you?

Goody: no guests to entertain us. no livestream. looks like we're gonna have to be content with old beta videotapes. tape delay is better than nothing.

Dammi: or we could read ancient tomes.

Goody: pop it in. i love these old setups with the tv on the second shelf held by belts and the VCR on the first shelf and the locked cabinet on wheels at the bottom with the always-missing key. you never found that key when you were at school.

Dammi: i never went to school. i learned from nature. you're using precious videotape to tape news? news?

Goody: let's see what we got here. never thought i'd see snow again. oh it's the meeting between Ivanka Trump and Justin Trudeau.

Dammi: that Trudeau is one slice of hot Canadian bacon. sizzling on the stove. best Justin since Timberlake.

Goody: please no talk of lakes. heh, yeah, that Ivanka wants a little strawberry sauce in her milk. sorry, my brain is hardwired now. need to stop hanging around Mike. is there such a thing as mixed-company locker-room talk?

Dammi: strawberry?

Goody: cos the Canadian flag.

Dammi: you could have said maple syrup in that milk.

Goody: red at any rate.

Dammi: aged like my menstrual blood.

Goody: DAMMIT DAMMI, i was eating.

Dammi: yes you were.

Goody: so, uh, like what are you saying? YOU'RE PREGNANT AGAIN?

Dammi closes her eyes and just cackles.

Goody: dammit! we already got 5 kids! how did this happen? immaculate conception? i need to cool down in the downtown..............dammit Dammi why are there frogs in the shower?


at the house the utter darkness is joined to a sinister howl. the walls shake rattle but don't roll, yet.

Arianna is doing her best to find a quiet moment in the madness. she can only find it on the pot. she spools the last of the toilet paper and despite no power for hours wipes her ass discreetly and ladylike under her butt while sitting down on the toilet per usual. the cats are mewing and scratching the door wanting to come in. she relents and squeezes the doorknob.

Arianna: come in, cats, it won't kill you to look. there is no privacy in society anymore.

Ari spends a precious minute silently stroking the cats' purring underchins.

her husband is feverishly working the yard out back. she can hear him from her window. she calls through the walls.

Ari: honey, you going okay?

husband: yes. the millet is minatory but the spelt is secure due to my secret location. planning beforehand is the key. storm's uprooted everything else.

Ari: come in, take a break. rest your eyes on some snowy tv.

husband: okay. be sure to store it all in mason jars. i am so tired.

Ari: cool off your face. splash some water on it. works better than coffee.

husband: neat trick.

Ari: no honey, the water in the spaghetti pot's still hot!!!

husband: nah, it cooled down already. thank you for caring. Caso Cerrado?

Ari: i need a laugh. i love this judge.

husband: *putting his arms around Ari* she's a lesbian you know. the most accomplished lesbian you'll ever know.

Ari laughs loudly for five minutes straight.

husband: is the taffy still on those battery-operated cooking stove burners?

there's a horrible hissing.

husband: OMG the cats!

the three children: no mommy, it's us! we burned our hands! we were fumbling around, we can't see!

Ari: for fuck sake take your hands away!

husband: the cats are smarter than that. the second they sense heat under their paws they jump out of the way. humans not so much, we're curious.

Ari: you just had to get three of those stupid stoves huh.

husband: if we didn't they'd fight over one.

Ari: we must pray for guidance. you get the pot and i'll get the water.

husband: switch that around and you've got a deal.

Ari laughs for twenty-five more minutes straight. her husband checks his watch. no scores.

husband: what time is it?

Ari: 3:90

Ari hangs her teeth out of her plastic joker smile below her dilated pupils and arched eyebrows.

husband: i'm glad you can smile. but it's not gleeful anymore, Ari. it's more of a fit of laughter.


Mike storms into the barcade's sandalwood panel spray-painted in foursquare. and into yellow-and-black tape.

Mike raises his hands and declares: "INDOORS!!!"

the barcadekeep wears a snooty scowl and a T-shirt with three moons and two cute puppies underneath, one girl and one boy. he greets Mike by taking off his glassless glasses, chewing on the temples, and sliding under the bar.

barcadekeep: i shall frame the discussion thusly: GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!!!! I DON"T GOT A GUN! I'M FREAKING OUT OVER HERE!!!!!!!!!!!

Mike: calm down, man, we're safe here.

barcadekeep: you ain't the Feds? why you wearing a bulletproof vest?

Mike: i ain't no flatfoot but my feet are flat. haven't walked so much in my life. i at least take the bus. this is a Scottevest. i waver between wondering what i dislike more, being wet or being cold. i can't decide and my wardrobe is suffering. got any drink?

barcadekeep: i was pretending to be condemned. that's the only way to insure survival. i can still play the Pac-Man World arcade cabinet in the corner to stave off loneliness, it runs on a generator. but my potted spirits are off-limits. i don't know how long this will last. the beer is literally my piss. my Brooklyn brandy might be the only water i have for months.

Mike: goddammit, i need my strength. any food?

barcadekeep: i do have some special bread. it's magic and religious. and cold.

the barcadekeep takes Ezekiel 4:9 Brand bread out of his pocket freezer on the back glass.

Mike: wow. never heard of this brand. and why do you keep it frozen? frozen bread?

barcadekeep: cos it's so powerful it would burst into flame. have some. break off a piece.

Mike: *chewing, trying to chew* *finally spitting it out* *spit!* tastes like shit.

Mike spits the clump of raw sticky bread in the barcadekeep's face. Mike doesn't see what hits him next. before he knows it Mike is outside getting pelted with a sore nose.

Mike: i can't believe i got my ass kicked by a nerd with pipecleaner arms.

the barcadekeep steps out and throws a clear bag of sheepherder's bread in Mike's face.

Mike: i thought you hipsters were supposed to be cool.

barcadekeep: we're genial when we're not grouchy. here, perhaps this bread is more your speed. free for a price. you leave immediately and forget this place exists, deal?

Mike: *chewing with soft teeth* mmmmmmmm, this is good! it's chewy. it's sweet.

barcadekeep: sweet.

Mike's butt buzzes.

Goody: Mike, i need a friend. you're good with women. how's the weather up there?

Mike: very funny. not anymore, i just got beat up by a barcadekeep. i can take the hit but my rep can't. i'm following the hurricane now. tracking it tremendously. i got a name for it: Zard.

Goody: Zed, got it. hey.......who's this? i got another call, hold up, let me put you on hold.

Goody: Federer? what do you want?

Federer: who's this Bouchard who keeps shading my girl Maria?

Goody: she said she should be banned for life.

Federer: win a Slam first, until then keep yo mouth shut. it's Djoker and his impressions all over again. who's this b?

Goody: Eugenie. she has an army.

Federer: this means war!

Goody: i interviewed her once when she was just starting out. she wore those short shorts and was in front of me the whole time we walked and talked. i was still able to conduct the interview. i shoved my mic in her face, i was still learning, too. she said that she considers meeting you the greatest moment of her life.

Federer: i don't remember this. i don't recall this chickadee.

Goody: let me send her pic to you through my phone. the password is still "Roger Roger", right?

Federer: wow wow wowwie! genie, genie, let me rub your ass! okay, nevermind. i get one threesome a year thanks to my lenient wife. i love her so much. it's time to welcome Maria back to the tour properly. that first meeting after the ban between the two of them is gonna be so awkward. cos Genie and Maria are gonna meet on my bed, with me in between the two beauties. we'll take off our Wimbledon robes in unison. competing on me to see who's the babe of the tour. i get to decide cos i'm number one in the world. and i stick out my number-one-in-the-world. a king needs his queens. hatefucks are so hot!

Goody: it's always the quiet ones. Mike, you still there?

Mike has turned around and spotted a glint in the moist fog. he tries to stand upright but can't, his ankles are shot. he slithers like a salamander down the nearest embankment and roughly tumbles to his side. he picks the sprouts from the mud and places them in his sandwich. he is grateful for the soft dirt on his knees and doesn't want to move from the soothe. but a whir cuts through the lull in the eyewall. Mike slides to the outcropping and sees the newsvan, on its side, still humming, the front wheelless axis sadly rotating bare. a firework shoots out the back. Mike sees the exhaust pipe still strumming with energy.

Mike: let's hope that was enough nourishment.

Mike swings his arm around and notices his muscles thinning and droopy. with all his might he clutches the shaft of the pipe and tries to screw it apart. he wrenches the thing up, then down, then all around, hoping to reach a breakpoint and snap off.

Mike: come on, rain, work your magic!

he crawls to the driver's side. Jackie is still in her seat. her eyes are closed and her hair is in her mouth.

Mike: ...but...i see you, boo. Jackie my love, you are so peaceful. you're looking at me with your eyes closed. i see your right hand now.......hahahaha! it's not on the stick like you'd think. it' your're blowing a kiss to me!

Mike gently removes the door, slides the seat level to make a bed, removes the seatbelt around her neck, and places Jackie on her side to rest. he brushes the hair from her eyes and slowly lowers her arm. he kisses her lips softly.

Mike: i understand. thank you. i feel so blessed. the night is such a shimmering shade of deep blue.

Mike looks up at a teetering landslide.

Mike: rain, be thy glue.

the stationary circular washer holding the pipe is imbrued enough from the inundations that it comes apart!

Mike: the staff of life!

Mike takes hold of his new stick, still sparkling with atoms through and out from an unknown energy source within. he raises the stick up high and cuts through the tropical-force winds immediately above him like a hot sword.

Mike: hold on, baby, i'm coming!


let me tell you little tale about a boy and his bot
in 1984 Christmas meant an awful lot
when arose such a clatter and under the tree
a Voltron robot and the boy went happy-pee

Voltron was my everything. it was my first real toy. my first COMBINE!!! toy i could manipulate and pose to hold a plastic sword. the sword was strong enough i could fork my Steak-umms with it. i could push the legs of the lions in and fit the lion rectangles together to form a whole being greater than the sum of its parts for the first time, my first magic, first stab at playing God. i could make it walk over rainwater and shoot at my solitary door since my door didn't have a stick-umm mini basketball hoop. first time i really played by myself. and got so entrenched in my own head i forgot about Steak-umms dinner. first time watching a cartoon that wasn't fluff comedy and colors but a deep, layered, sci-fi fantasy epic. in other words, a real cartoon, an anime cartoon. made me appreciate the vastness of space. Sagan came later. my first real dark-colored villain, which is a dissertation on race waiting to happen. shiny keys and deboair father figures and sources of light and the concept of valor and love and desire and white palaces and lava planets and ancient curses and robots could be evil, too and universe domination and war and peace and slavery. first space battle, Star Wars came later. first mech, not knowing what mech was. first toyetic cartoon, i only learned about toyetic last year. i was being influenced by serious art early on and i am the better man for it. this lead me to Zelda. never underestimate the power of a boy and his first robot. his first robot replaces his first imaginary friend...

and then there's Princess Allura. my first crush. see above. that's not a shrine, it's a tribute. was it my first fap? too young to know. i wanted to get the Allura doll but that would have been too weird. in the '80s i mean. i still remember that water episode................i became a man after that water episode. but i still had to eat all my sprouts.

i wanted to fuck Princess Allura. i know she's apart from the rest of the team but that's cos she's special. i'll write a dissertation on gender inequality and media misrepresentation and subtle sabotage later. i wanted to become her space husband. does that make me a bad person? i put it to an online vote and the results were 100% yes for bad person.

Keith, my first Keith, from then on whenever i thought of a Keith i thought of a cool dude with '70s bush on his chest and a gold medallion. Lance, another cool name for a dude, space knight, gentleman jouster with the jokes, and he had a long lance, only got that last year. Hunk, the linebacker, i swear i called him Hank for the longest. or i saw that he was Hunk but couldn't believe he was actually named Hunk. like, that had to be a typo, right? subconsciously made me hate football for my teen years. Sven, my first foreigner. i believe he kissed Allura first so i was jealous. wanted to be foreign, get a mustache and speak the language of love. either French or Swedish. i like Swedish meatballs just not the sauce.

and Pidge. Pidge frustrated me. didn't know he was a guy till later. he was too close to the boy i was. he was a whiner or something. like a little man or a dwarf or elf or something? was he human or alien? was he a nerd or just annoying? i started wearing bows in my hair watching him. Pidge helped me be a more authentic me. that name, Pidge, it's triggering. like you wanted to give Pidge a big hug and squeeze him to death cos he was so cute but then afterwards send his ass into space. like give Pidge a swift tap on his tiny butt and he flies into space.

the villains are murky, i was young. their motivations were murky, but aren't all villains' motivations? i do remember later when i became more clear-eyed i started thinking in my head about a plot involving the Voltron characters that was more adult. like i had Allura be a double agent who bed the blue guy, my first male witch. not the Blue Lion guy, the blue villain. and she would twirl his crown on her naked finger. in short, full of sex and intrigue. my first fanfiction. wait, they actually had purple skin? my '80s tv wasn't the best in those days. yeah i recall the dashing purple prince who wanted the space nookie from the white princess. that's another dissertation.

i was watching Voltron when i had that argument with my sister. she wanted me to go out more and socialize.........but i had to watch Voltron! it was at that point i knew my life was lost.

that was the DVD. the DVD that first made me appreciate all DVDs for their special features. like i saw fight cells from episodes of the original Japanese '80s series with the blood and guts left in not shown for American broadcast. that blew my mind. and made me anti-war.

the Princess's space mice were so cute. this was before i saw Cinderella. cheese dreams. made me want to get a pet for the first time. i'll always love you, Benji. my dog, not the famous dog.

and Allura's mad space maid above, she was my first T H I C C

Power Rangers came along and got big and i yelled STEROIDS CHEATER!!! at my tv screen to no avail. but it's a rip-off i've learned to tolerate cos of the babes and there's nothing else on Saturday mornings anymore.

as a college kid i got some DVDs of that Voltron series where they were cars instead of lions or something. my first nostalgia.

and then my prized Voltron robot had an accident and smashed into a billion tiny pieces. utterly destroyed, both the robot and my psyche. but i'll leave that for a future instagram story...

Voltron: a fuckload of firsts

Voltron catapulted me into the stars. i could taste those stars. my first chicken-stars soup. this show made me less lonely and alone in the universe. lions became my favorite animal. wouldn't eat any lion animal crackers. mostly, Voltron spoke to me when no one else would.

what would Voltron say if he could speak? what would be Voltron's first words?








Tuesday, April 25, 2017


i'm not well. fair warning. i'm not doing well. i feel...always never quite right. i need a doctor. or my uncle who isn't crazy. or my doctor who is. or someone who is everyone in the world's uncle AND ALSO grandpa.

and down the stretch they come! except me. no coming for me. this challenge has been a blessing and a curse. the best things in life are both. i just realized Lena Headey is like a sexier leggier version of Janine Turner, Maggie from Northern Exposure. Lena has better hair and better heels. sorry, Maggie, the boots are fine but that pixie cut really threw us off.

what if i told you there existed a cartoon character who was better than God? who was the ultimate Fixer? who solved all your problems but only if you were a kid? the religion of Trix. who celebrated weirdness? and did it all with a good-natured mustachioed smile?

this is the perfect show to review while i'm under this state. cos this show is bonkers. it's necessarily off-kilter and oft-strange. it smokes the strange. it depends on not making sense. it's funny but in the way everything is funny with pot, even death. i think that's why we're all buried, to resemble a potted plant, cos we need to smoke all that natural greenery to cope.

but that's not true! i found the best episodes were when i was sober. Uncle Grandpa depends on a lot of play on words and double entendres which are not supposed to be sexual but always end up being sexual cos you can make ANYTHING sexual if you want to. it's a kid's show but it's disturbing. the whole middle-aged grown man cross-countrying the world in his van helping kids doesn't play well with woke parents.

i've seen every episode of Uncle Grandpa. it's my religion. except those damn shorts that appear out of nowhere and are never on the cable guide! and then you go to the Cartoon Network website to see if the ones you missed are streaming there and of course they're not, only the repeats from three years ago nobody cares about. #manchildproblems

this is the quintessential comedy cartoon. it relies on bright colors and wobbly shapes. Uncle Grandpa can stretch to anything beyond imagination. he can have two heads.........get your mind out of the gutter! i love the length. sigh. they're all 12-minute shorts except for some specials so they don't get bogged down with annoying complicated continuity stakes. cos this engine really runs smoothly without a plot. or the plot is the starting point for the string of jokes.

all the townsfolk are burnouts, the parents smoke more than their kids, and the towns are in shambles. getting a hot dog at the mall is an accomplishment. Uncle Grandpa and his crew battle underground demons, space vampires, and most importantly themselves as they save the day of a special-needs child each episode. for you see, all children have special needs...

all styles of animation are used. out-of-place, matte, mouth moving. the cringier the better. remember it's the stuff that's supposed to be funny but isn't quite that is the most upsetting:


Uncle Grandpa, the man with the Don Martin head, wears weird circus clothes and is a saint. that's true of all saints. he's normally happy-go-lucky and seems unfazed by his enormous powers. he says "Good Morning" a lot. the writers really couldn't come up with something more interesting for God to say? but there are days when he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed and gets angry. and you REALLY do not want to know Uncle Grandpa when he's angry. think Beerus but worse. Beerus is merely a Destroyer God, Whis taught Beerus, but Uncle Grandpa taught Whis!

Pizza Steve is a talking piece of pizza (i was about to type shit) with dripping cheese down there for balls and he wears sunglasses indoors. he thinks he's so cool. Mr. Gus with the cool urban voice is the conscience of the group, the green dinosaur from a past age who makes the most sense in the present. he is sick of the shit the other four get into and would quit but he has a mouth to feed. it's weird that the dinosaur is the one put-upon but he's a gentle giant. Belly Bag is the tragic figure in the group. he is doomed to be tied around the waist of Uncle Grandpa forever. he has a sweet disposition and strawberry-preserves voice and nice tongue and complies with all of Uncle Grandpa's insane orders but he has no eyes and no free will. Giant Realistic Flying Tiger is tragic in another way. first of all, GRFT, no one can say her real name. secondly because she is literally a static photorealistic cutout of a tiger she's never really part of the group. she's there on top of the paper while the others are animated in the paper going on animated adventures in the same paper. she growls for no reason and flies and poos rainbows and likes boy bands and paints her tiger fingernails.

the skeleton crew include a deranged wizard who fights a laundromat, i miss laundromat atmosphere, a berry bear and hot dog person who are too into using toilets to cannibalize themselves (well one of them is), and Santa is retconned into the canon i'm sure. Regis Philbin himself played the Easter Bunny, that was cool.

but of course the star of Uncle Grandpa is Aunt Grandma. see up above. yep, that's her. the designers knew what they were doing. her episodes strangely increased the sagging ratings. cos she ain't saggin'. curves for days. y'know i've been attracted to cartoon babes before: Lola Bunny, Jessica Rabbit, Melody from Hunter x Hunter. but i've never wanted to outright fuck a cartoon character in the ass like Aunt Grandma. does that make me a bad person? my priest whom i tell my fantasies to says yes and refuses to see me anymore.

Lena Headey provides the voice. headey, perfect name. please, i haven't seen the Game of Thrones nakedness yet, i'm saving it for a sunny day. just insert hot-tempered Aunt Grandma into Game of Thrones and watch her choke the dragon.




see when Uncle Grandpa spoofed Muppet Babies cos Muppet Babies. a very special episode.

see when Uncle Grandpa inserted himself into the Steven Universe lore. Steven was okay with receiving that special all-encompassing item from Uncle Grandpa but the fans will never be. just mention this episode and they start crying.

oh yeah, the Melvins episode. you know Kurt would have done Uncle Grandpa if he had lived.


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...