Dumbidity

BNN: Bayou Tech

In another collaboration with the clabbered clots at Cornpone, BNN adds a technology columnist, T-Boy. I'm not sure what his Christian name is, much less his surname, and for folks not from 'round here, the "T" in T-Boy is similar in context with "junior." It's generalized with "Boy" but is also commonly used with the Christian name like T-Claude or sometimes the surname: Tee-Jarreau.

See dere? Now y'all know how t'make dat watch an' all y'all did was axe what time it was.

I'm Just Askin' - VIII

I can't believe the wailing, moaning and gnashing of teeth going on in this country over that lame show "American't Eyedull". Some chick wins a phone-in poll-style vote and you'd think it was Algore's encore.

Dave facilitated this typical Idle-Riot over on Fotoslop.

I can't say I never saw it - I did catch a glimpse around the time that dentally-challenged "She-Bang" dude caught fire (that woulda been intresting) - but I am of the considered opinion that it's fluff. And extremely lame fluff at that.

I can say I never had to watch it. The yutzpucklers on WWL radio's moaning show recapped it every morning-after, so I knew who was great, who stunk, who got gonged, to what extent the gonging was a travesty, yada, yada, yada.

I don't CARE who won. Not that winning is necessarily the nazz either. I hear the runners-up don't have to wait for the reigning Miz Yammerica to step down, they get their own contracts because they've had so much exposure. Even Neworlinsown George Huff is currently on some kind of tour or another, so he's not exactly rinsing dishes at Copeland's for a living.

But the one thing I took an interest in was the overbearing pomposity of that cocksure, fully self-aggrandized judge, Simon Barsinister Cowell (mooooooooo).

Wouldn't all you teeth-gnashing wailers out in the wilderness just love it if those pathetic candidates gathered together one collective 'nad and challenged that blithering ego trumpet to put his big-shot big-mouth out there and sing something?

TV is Bad for Bunnies

One of the nice things about Earth wobbling on her axis is how the days get longer this time of year in the Northern Hemisphere and I get to drive in some daylight. Musing about in the aforementioned early morning light these last couple of weeks, I enjoy observing the little woodland creatures who venture forth to partake of the spring greenery, bottles, cans and discarded cigarette butts.

This morning, I see some armadillos rooting about, then some bunnies and a nutria (an amphibious mammal resembling both a rat and a beaver, retaining all the charm of the former and the size and teeth of the latter). Funny thing about the bunnies though, a couple of 'em appear to be lapping up some Old English 800, smoking cigarettes, wearing leather jackets, heavy boots and multiple earrings.

Little Rabbit Foo-Foo #1 hops over to this armadillo and gives him a rap on the noggin so that he rolls up in his protective ball. Then, LRFF#2 quits menacing the other armadillos, hops over and they both start rolling Victim Armadillo up toward the highway.

On the shoulder of the interstate, they watch the oncoming traffic while the other armadillos cower by the brushline. They rock the rolled-up armadillo back and forth a couple of times and give him the heave-ho across 2 lanes of traffic.

Miraculously, he rolls off the other side unscathed, unbundles himself, his little head does that wogga-wogga-wogga thing like in the cartoons and he stumbles off into the woods. The Little Rabbits Foo-Foo are just laughing at their dangerous prank, high-fouring each other.

Br'er Nutria was very impressed. He lumbered over to the shoulder of the highway, launched himself forward and began awkwardly rolling himself along. Predictably, a truck got him - all five axles.

We've clearly set a bad example for our little furry brethren. Please remember to make sure you permanently disable any TV sets you dump along the back roads, because they've apparently started watching Jackass.

Stupor Bowl ecks-ecks-ecks-vee-eye-yi-yi

Football is now over for months and months and months. I watched Superbowl XXXVIII in its entirety, so naturally it's time to poke some more fun at it. Here goes (in some semblance of order)...

Pre-game Showtime: There's so much going on during the pregame show that it's hard to tell sometimes what's a video clip from the studio and what's going on in the stadium. Then they get these big names and big acts to perform for a minute or two, so it's almost a "what's the point?" moment. I was elbow-deep in feast fixin' so I didn't really pay all that much attention anyway.

Biggest Pleasant Surprise: Beyonce's National Anthem. Not only did she sing it in a reasonably customary fashion, she came out dressed appropriately to do it. I know I shouldn't read too much into it - not like she's going to any of Boston's finer finishing schools or anything, but I appreciated it.

Boomer and Jabba-the-Gumbel: I didn't find them to be too obnoxious - certainly less than John Madden and Dennis the Miller would've been. They talked so much I quit paying much attention to 'em, besides - with all the commercials I had to converse, eat and restroom while the game was on.

Half-Time Half-Wits: I didn't see how the halftime show had any redeeming social value whatsoever. But thanks to Justin exposing himself as a boob (again), the good news is that MTV is unlikely to be hired to ruin the halftime show in the future.

Janet's Top Flap Flap Clouds Real Travesty: Kid Rock wearing a ripped U.S. Flag. Not a shirt with flag components on it, a real, HTG American Flag with a hole ripped in the center big enough for Kid to stick his monstrously overinflated head through. It's like he took the "Flag Etiquette" book and tried to find the most offensive way to desecrate the Flag short of burning it. Forgot about that one, didn't you? He may have the artistipolitical right to do it, but I'm surprized there hasn't been much outcry about it - too busy tsk-tsking a little orchestrated peep-eye?

Postgame Proselytizing Award: To the Owner of the Patry Yachts for giving Coach Bill Belichick’s standard “team us” rant. It’s like he heard it before. Heck, after listening to Bill's protégé Nick Saban during LSU’s championship run, I’ve heard it before.

Strictly from Commercial...

Grabbed Your Attention: Geez, have the beer people no shame? They stole that concept from either America's Funniest Staged Home Videos or Where the Buffalo Roam (the scene where Thompson's dog, trained to viciously bite Nixon in the crotch, does so). I got a mixed message anyway - are we supposed to buy beer or train dogs?

Flashpants: I missed what they were selling, but seeing Murray Lynn MacMonroe on the subway grate with his kilt blowing up was most accurately described by the kid "That's just wrong." I bet Michael Jackson has it set up at Neverland already.

Donkeys is as Donkeys Does: Did the little-donkey-that-could really steal Howard Dean's Post-Iowa braying to convince the Clydesdales? And in case it slipped your notice, it's really evident that it was a Democrat commercial, complete with affirmative action for donkeys. The EEOC has a new poster child.

Equine Flatulence: When that fool handed the chick a candle, I knew some type of conflagration was imminent, but they surprised even me with that one. I didn't get his line about barbeque? Whoever barbequed anything to smell like that?

More Lawsuits Pending: Isn't sticking soap in your kid's mouth corporal punishment? And isn't corporal punishment the most evil thing parents can do to a kid? And doesn't the First Amendment guarantee freedom of speech? So if a kid looks at the new, wild Chevrolet pickup coupe and chooses to say the street equivalent of "Holy Guacamole, Batman!" shouldn't he be allowed? Not in my household he ain't.

For my next trick: Hey, it's hot. I know! let's jump several stories off a balcony into a pitcher of icewater! And your little dog, too. Do not let your dog attempt this at home or PETA will sue you.

Cadillac's Breakthrough: Break through what, phantom water? Shoot, a Yugo could do that - it's imaginary (then again, so's a reliable Yugo). I think they out-eclecticked themselves on this one, but I could be wrong - I have no plans whatsoever to buy a Caddy. Never had.

Big & Tall Men's Car: Chevy Aveo, made by Middle Eastern craftsmen using ancient technologies applied to I Dream of Jeannie Bottles. I think that was the funniest and most subtle sight gag of the entire evening seeing those big strapping ball playas in the cavern-ized LBC (Little Bitty Car).

Great Example: Willie Nelson Tax Advice Bobblehead. That an industry niche sufficient to justify multi-million dollar single-shot ads should exist to help citizens figure out their tax obligations is a whole 'nother rant. What's next, a James Brown Bobblehead? "James, my wife ticked me off pretty bad, should I smack her around?" James Brown Domestic Counseling Bobblehead: "Right, OW!... HUH! C’MON, C’MON! UH! Yeah-eh, OOOOW!"

Razor Ads: How many blades does it take to shave an angel? How many blades do you really need to shave? I think two is pushing it, three is a little creepy, but FOUR? C'mon, FOUR? Really? Maybe you should get the "Cedric" body wax instead.

Identity Theft: When Yogi Bear starts forging checks on Grizzly Adams' account, you know we're in big trouble. While it looked like Nanuk accepted the ID, in reality he just had better sense than to rile the bear over a few bucks worth of nasty tasting soda. What you didn't see was Nanuk calling the authorities right after the bear left, and it was apprehended minutes later. PETA announced they would pay its legal fees and provide one of their attorneys for its defense. They're also countersuing Pepsi for the "attempted poisoning of a sentinent being."

Why did the future guitarist cross the road? To get to the guitar store. Don't tell me Jimi Hendrix's future could've been as an accordion player in Lawrence Welk's Champagne Band if he'd bought a Coke in that commercial. And what are the Pepsi people thinking? Hendrix obviously had really poor judgment over what he put in his body considering he died of a heroin overdose. Come to think of it, had he worked for Mr. Wunnerful, Wunnerful, he might still be living. Hmmmmm.

Go Ask Alice: The Rejuvenation Drug Wars just perked up again. Viagra and Levitra, the names of which seem to connote vigor and levitation, got a new competitor: Cialis. Cialis connotes, well, See Alice (or maybe "see, Alice!"). It's also got a nifty little verbal disclaimer about incidents where "effects" lasting four or more hours being rare and always requiring medical attention. For WHO? ALICE?

Oh, and there was a GAME! It was pretty exciting too, contrary to a lot of sports pundits' opinions. It might've been a lot more exciting had the turf not been so slippery. I would've liked to have seen it go into overtime, because it's a long way until August without any football.

Last Year's Stupor Bowl at Random

I'm finally getting caught up in the Super Bowl Hype™, and since they were banished from the net by an e-vile blogmaster I know, I thought I'd just post my observations from SB ver. XXXVII. Some items are intrinsically tied to certain elements of the spectactle itself, commercials and/or current events that are now ancient history (i.e. 12 months old). Updates and clarifiers are in italics.

*******
In no particular order of any fashion whatsoever...

The Horse Football Replay Official was hilarious - especially since it played within 5 minutes of the goofy 2 legged zebras being on Planet Zar during the kickoff where they blew the non-fumble call.

What's with Sealion Dion singing "GBA"? Isn't she Canadian? How many NFL Teams play in Canadia? And do you think she really drives a Chrysler? Any model? Does she even drive?

Congress should pass a law, pre-emptively, to ensure that no purveyor of any malted beverages shall sell, barter or trade long-necked bottles of said malted beverages to any person or persons costumed as hands-walking clowns, mimes, prestidigitators, pantomime Princess Annes or politicians (excepting Democratic Presidential Hopefuls (DPHs) during primary season). Not selling the hot dogs to the clown was a very sound decision on the part of the barkeep.

(No, I don't remember the commercial either.)

Shania Twain. ~Man, I look like GeneSimmons! All she needed was some white, silver and black pancake makeup and fake blood to spit and she could've been Gene Simmons...just back from surgery in DENMARK.

(Ah yes, I was all set for the sultry pop-country brunette to slink through a nice sultry pop-country tune in a nice pop-country aerobics outfit (with cowboy hat & boots) and she shows up wearing a space suit - it did beat Jessica Simpson's chartruse bathmat at the Sugar Bowl though. And add another singing Canadian if you're counting.)

Late 3rd Quarter, Rice and Brown have a combined 3 catches for 18 yards. If anybody'd told me that last week, I'd've felt obliged to send them to Football School. At least I didn't hear Madden criticise the Oakland Brain Trust with the cliche' "...dance with who brung ya." Maybe he said it and I missed it. Darn.

Levis Buffalo Chip Jeans. I didn't get it. I was rather hoping the Buffalo would trample them into the asphault, then have a digital-imaged John Cameron Swayze pull up the pulpified pants and note that they were still ticking or something trite like that. Worthless with a capital 'F'.

The New Orleans Saints. They can beat the best (TB twice) but can't touch the worst, losing to Detroit, Minnesota, Cincinnati and South Carolina to go 9-7 and not to the playoffs. Still no Stupor Bowl for the Saints. Oh well, at least Tampa Bay has never returned a kickoff for a touchdown.

(Particularly funny now that the sAints went 8-8 in 2003 and Carolina rode to the Big Dance on Jake Delhomme, N.O.'s former 2nd string QB and native Louisianian now running the Panzer attack. Word to sAints Head Couch Jim Hasbeen - New Orleaneans have actively taken notice.)

PETA (People who Eat Tiny Animals) - They should be in high dudgeon about now over the neglected-to-death budgie (Quiznos); the jammin' Dreadlock-Doggie-Hat (Bud, right?); Overheating baboons until they're forced to learn to catapult themselves into the Polar Bear pool (what were they selling anyway?). I'd give the baboon about 45 seconds. (First Polar Bear: I haven't had seal in a while, I seem to remember they were fatter. Second Polar Bear: Didn't swim worth a damn either, and I got a piece of that scrawny tail stuck in my teeth.); Buffalo being scared by satanic, jeans-wearing slackers; Horses playing football and cowboys being ethnically insensitive to Zebras.

Quiznos. Any sammich possibly made by some aged dork in tidy-wideys can't pass a health inspection, unless Hans Blix is branching out.

(You *do* remember old Hans, or has he lost his 15 minutes of fame? If so, he'll NEVER find 'em again.)

Martina Grammatica. When Tupa fiendishly let that snap get loose, couldn't you just hear Marteen's shrieks of terror? I think the shock paralyzed him a bit before he realized that the ground was his best friend. Dam gravitee in dis country so slow!

(I forgot about that botched play. I think he dootied his didies too.)

Alias. The Lord is kind and Merciful. The teaser lingerie shots in the commercial were of the first teaser scene before the credits. I really bad don't need to get wrapped up into any more TV than I already watch, but mighty glad we seen that! I hope she croaked Jabba-the-Ruskie-Mobber before the show was over - CC, any updates?

(That was the show so blessed to follow the Superbowl, thus we saw Jennifer Garner in a red lace thingy from Vickie's Sickies about 700 times. That was almost too many times.)

Gwen Stefani. Looked a bit like Sting's son. HO-HUM.

(The next two are from the Ozzy commercials - had he been riding 4-wheelers?)

Donny & Marie. It must beat food stamps.

Ozzy. Chemically induced old-timers' disease. Sad. Vacant and Sad. Oh, and it was a tender touch to imply that he was "waking up from a dream" and not just coming down off an LSD flashback. Florence Henderson always DID strike me as a closet Black Sabbath groupie.

The City of Oakland. Lose the Superbowl; riot and trash half the city. Y'all could be from Kentucky. EVERYBODY knows you win something, then riot. Ohio State fans even had that down.

(The Kentucky reference is to the UK football team dumping the cooler on their coach just before LSU won the game on the last play - the 75-yard Blewgrass Miracle. Funny how LSU fans didn't trash anything but their own livers after the Sugar Bowl - the only fires were on those high-octane sugar cubes Pat-O's puts on hurricanes.)

Real turf. That was a nice touch. Football requires real dirt, real blood, real bacteria and possibly even some bugs to squash (here comes PETA again).

Gatorade douche. One of these days, a Head Coach is going to get with the F/X guys at the movies and rig up a deal that simulates a violent electricution when they pour the icewater on him. He lays there, twitching for a minute or so, smoke still coming out of his ears while the players gork and freak out. Just not Latrell Spreewell - he'd be on his cell to Johnny Cochrane. Maybe that's why this idiot trick hasn't caught on in the NBA. (Nice finishing touch - have a couple of assistant coaches with tasers to hit the douchers so they think they're in the circuit getting electrocuted too.)

Kids on the sideline. Lots of little boys. No girls. Tagliabue better look into that.

Michael Jordan. Neat trick, how'd he grow his hair? I kept waiting for him to "...nothing but net" and whip his own ass over a hamburger.

Jackie Chan. You'd think a badass like Jacks wouldn't get all wimpy about a tag. Did he teach that little dog how to kick the cover off the fire hydrant?

Roman Numerals. 2006 will be StuporBowl XL. 2016 will be StuporBowl L. This is priceless: 2025 will be StuporBowl LIX and I can't imagine how depraved a Miller Light mudwrestling, chick-fight commercial will have to be. What are they gonna do, change to digits? If they do, they'll be in the same pickle in 2035 for SuperBowl 69! WAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

******

I'll see what I can do about observations of the current Super Bowl next week. No promises.

Falling Ping-Pong Ball Zone

Knock-knock.
Who's there?
Boo.
Boo who?
I know, I wanted to cry when I heard it too.

Bob Keeshan, fondly known as Captain Kangaroo, has joined in syndication with Mr. Rogers.

My earliest memories of TV were of a black and white Captain Kangaroo walking around the Treasure House being aggravated by Bunny Rabbit and Mr. Moose. I remember being quite put out whenever news coverage of NASA space shots would pre-empt the show. I was even pretty irritated with one Lee Harvey Oswald because of all the news coverage of the assassination (well, what sort of judgment is a little chid supposed to have?).

No matter how many times Bunny Rabbit would steal the carrots or Mr. Moose would trigger the ping-pong ball hail storm, it was always funny. I loved being read to - I don't remember most of the titles, but there was one little book about the steam shovel, and another guy with hats for sale, and the little duck in China on the Yellow River.

I used to love the songs, and watching the Magic Drawing Board draw the picture of the "Hole in the Bottom of the Sea", and different animals during "Swing on a Star."

The characters visiting with or visited by the Captain: Grandfather Clock; Mr. Green Jeans. One of my absolute favorite characters was the "Bananaman" - a clown who would sing-song his way through some lonesome clown routine where he'd discover things in his pockets that were magic tricks or some other sight gag kids liked. (~yah-nah-nee-nee-nah... oooOOOOOH!) I wonder who that guy was, was it Bob Keeshan?

I outgrew Captain Kangaroo long before it left the air, but I recall bits and pieces of the stories and the songs and the other standard antics to this very day. I can hear the music playing now.

Bye Cap'n. Thanks.