Things I’ve been disappointed in:
The lack of Season One AND two House (boat) time
The lack of witty and playful banter on said boat
The lack of semi-nudity
The lack of full frontal nudity
The lack of gratuitous use of bananas
My lack of access to 24 hour candy-bar drive throughs.
And…..there was no gnome this season. Sigh.
Oh, and my ha-ha bone is gone. Recapping average stand-up is as fun as…..recapping Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. (Although, there are more rabid monkeys there….I’d KILL for a rabid monkey scene!)
Instead….we have Anthony. Let us begin the torture.
Anthony starts his rip-roaring ha-ha-fest of an intro. with the totally unused and never tired phrase, “who let the dogs out?” His answer: “I’m guessing Mel Gibson,” which I’m sad to say many in the audience actually GUFFAWED at, proving my theory that the audience is made up of a compilation tape of laugh tracks from 1970’s sitcoms. I swear I saw someone wearing kulats. And was that Weezy…?
Because Bubble-boy Was Already Booked Somewhere
Anthony introduces the three remaining comics, who come out for no apparent reason, as they’re immediately sent back stage again. After they’re whisked into the ether, my greatest fears erupt when I see an extremely fluffy shadow in the background. Appearing like the burning bush, without the wisdom or the fire, we see His Fluffyness™ (<--official knighthood) appear, stage left…and it’s…JAY LONDON! *screams* “Oh BLEEP….Good God…nooooo!” I actually yelled, as if I’d just seen the shadow of Freddie Krueger’s finger blades. Before I actually made him out, I had that sick feeling in my stomach, that gut instinct that says, “sump‘n ain’t right”, you know, my hair follicles tingled and raised, like when you come home, and your door is halfway open, and you’re like, “who left it like that?” and you fearfully go inside, and there’s a strange guy at your counter, and you scream like a hurt boar until you see it’s your brother, and he’s eating almost all of your high-priced organic peanut butter, and he’s doing it with his fingers, and so then you yell at him and yank his meaty paw out of the jar, and then HE screams like a little girl, and soon you’re both wrestling on top of the kitchen island until you bend back his chunky-style covered forearm, and then he takes your Mary Engelbreit ceramic bowl that you use for oranges and he uses it to press your face into the counter, and then you scream through your squished mouth, and you grab the nearby egg beater, and say, “I’ll whisk the CRAP OUT OF YOU IF YOU DON”T DROP THE LIFE IS A BOWL OF CHERRIES BOWL RIGHT NOW!” and he kind of laughs, because it’s a whisk, but then you push the whisk against his cheek, leaving an unflattering starburst pattern, and he catches his reflection in your toaster, so then his face twists in rage like the Sta-Puft Marshmallow man in Ghostbusters when they first hit him with the flame throwers, and then he pulls back on his haunches, roaring like an injured pterodactyl, and then you say, “don’t ever touch my peanut butter again,” and he runs out of the room, back to screaming like a little girl while rubbing his newly imprinted face, and then you sigh and pant, because it’s all over? Anyhow…like that.
So, it was horrific. Truly horrific. And I actually had to write it down. Damn, damn, damn. Which is why, again, tonight, I will be bringing you yet another fine example of semi-accurate typing. Which is what you come to me for.
Transcription ahoy! (<--oh, and this will truly be court-reporter style, I’m not even sure I’m editing out coughs or chair squeaks.)
Jay London’s act: *deep breath* Annnnnd GO! He’s the fourth guy on the evolutionary chart, does his schtick where he moves his mic a lot and asks the bewildered audience members to look at him (making them more uncomfortable and more likely to laugh politely so as to be left alone), he doesn’t have to worry about identity theft because no one wants to be him, yada yada more jokes, met Michael Jackson and told him “lighten up” (this is where, in my notes, I actually type, “I can’t stand this”). How come at the end of a porno they don’t have outtakes? Went out with promiscuous female impressionist and she does everybody. And yayyyyyyyyyyyy he’s ovah! Woo hoo! The pain…is gone! The pain is gone!
Anthony says “thank you sasquatch”. Ha.
Anthony surprises us with the news of our first special guest…..Caroline Rhea! I’ve actually seen her act live, so I’m thrilled she’s been released from the Biggest Loser cage and allowed to employ humor and wit for the first time in a long time on NBC. Sadly, half of the comedy, again, is in the delivery. I’d act it out for you, but then I’d have to give you directions to my house, and honestly…..I’m not sharing my waffle sticks. So here’s her act, with zero percent of the live vibrancy! Eeee!
Caroline’s act: Hosting a show titled The Biggest Loser (where they totally don’t allow her to make any witty commentary <---another NBC failing), and she hated the title, wanted to film it in Hawaii and call it Kimono Wanna Weigh Me. She was on Sabrina, the Teenage Witch, and actually had a 38-year-old woman come up to her and ask her if the cat was real, she’s like, “wow, now, was it the fact that it talked and looked like an alcoholic rabbit wearing a hair piece?” She’s not like most celebrities: when fans come up to her, they actually end up telling HER, “I gotta go.” Mel Gibson has a new movie called Apocolypto – about the end of his career. Talks about the CNN crawl and refers to it as the “constant ribbon of terror”, and wonders why it is that we never see the first word, it’s always just like, “has just been attacked” and you turn to ask someone else what the deal is and turn back to see “should run for their lives”. There’s a newscaster in LA named Michelle Tussie (sp? I tried to look it up people!), and every night she tries to psychically will her to say, “I’m Michelle Tussie with the night newsie.” She still shops at a store called Forever 21, feels like an alarm is going to go off, “you’re fooling no one.” She says you’re never going to hear a group of women saying, “there’s a sale at Almost 40! Free reading glasses!” She talks about how no one can take compliments, and if you try to give them one, the recipient always confesses some horrible secret you’d have never guessed just to make up for the compliment. You say, “You have a beautiful smile,” and they say, “My back tooth is completely black.” You say, “I love your dress,” she’ll say, “it was a dollar! I bought it at a garage sale and never even washed it!” Her father is an ob/gyn AND a Star Wars fan, so he likes to be called OBGynobi. She then talks about her big cheeks and says she constantly hangs up on friends. “You’re the victim of Fat Face Hang-up, FFH.” She’s so glad she didn’t find the love of her life until she was 39, because even if she does have to spend the rest of her life with him, it’s not that long. If she’d gotten married at 21 she’d just be up for parole now. She finishes with comments about how much couples who’ve been married for 50 years must have been freaked out when Viagra was invented, and is sure there’s a female scientist out there working on the antidote. Lastly, she doesn’t understand Viagra, because “I like pie, but I don’t want to eat it for four and a half hours.”
They Got Rid of the Wrong Dude
Just when I’m starting to settle in with my chicken pot pie (<--fictitious, as I actually don’t think meat should be hidden inside crusts normally reserved for sweet things! But it makes it more colorful, yes? Truthfully, I had nine peanuts for dinner. Again.), anyhow, just when I’m settling down to my pot pie, suddenly, the space time continuum is disrupted by the arrival of JAY LONDON…..“Soy Bomb” style. Yuck. He runs off with the mic, and all I can think about is how much I wish Anthony Clark were less skinny and more meaty (“pot-pie like”, if you will), so he could tackle Jay and bring him down like a tranquilized bear. Instead, he brings the four remaining comics out again. Who will go home? Who will accost the banana (as per my wishes)? Let’s see.
First, Anthony tells Josh Blue that………..he will be performing tonight! Woo hoo! And he runs off stage. He does not accost a banana.
Second, Chris Porter…..America voted….and you’ll be staying right on stage for now to sweat.
Ty Barnett…..will be performing tonight! Woo hoo!
Which means it’s between Chris and Michelle, and since you can actually invoke the Power of Scroll, and I can’t stop you….Michelle goes! Awww. Kristen is in the audience and looks genuinely sad, and I am too, as I think Michelle actually improved from the show’s beginnings. She thanks everyone, yada yada, it’s sad, and we’re done here.
Laughing on the Inside, Laying-in-our-drool on the Outside
Before we launch into more quality typing, I’d like to point out again, the complete and utter failure of the producers and editors of this show. For each comic is given an intro., and each intro. pretty much blows. They get all these quality minutes to inspire and/or entertain us, and instead, just like the unfavorable questions on American Idol that forced Kinnik Sky to reveal her love of hog intestines, we get lame questions from the producers, all amounting to, “if feelings were a color….?” Which leads to dull answers from the comics. Seriously. They might be sweet and “aww” and all, but really, far less entertaining than…things that entertain. The clear question tonight had to be “what one word would you use to describe your experience on LCS?” Seriously? Can’t we guess the answer to that? Unless someone says, “Blowworthy,” I don’t think they can surprise us. These one word answers and completely shallow questions leave the comedians little to work with, which means the interviews don’t surprise us, which means……….zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Speaking of which, it’s time for Josh. Who I have totally supported, but tonight….eh. He aiight.
Josh’s sweet but he’s-better-than-this interview: The whole experience of LCS has been overwhelming, his life was turned upside down, it took a lot of work to get to this point, and a bunch of other obvious things like “water is wet”. Anyhow, he says if you put your time and effort into something, you can make things happen.
Josh’s act: He never thought he’d make it this far, not in the contest, he means the stage. He wanted to go to this global warming rally last week, but it was just too hot. How did he know it was too hot? Because a dude came up to him and said, “hot enough for ya?” He said he looked the guy up and down and said, “yeah, you’re pretty cute, but I just don’t roll that way.” He went to the grocery store to buy some sunscreen, but he spent way more money than he’d planned because of the bleeping self checkout – one box of cereal 208 times. Then he launches into a bit about parents spelling things in front of you – like he’s at dinner with his parents, and they’re like, “tonight if Josh is good, I’ll take him to the S-T-O-R-E.” And his response: ‘For Pete’s sake mom I’m 27….where are we going?” His dad’s like, “yeah, where?” More spelling jokes, including the fact that his parents voted for R-O-Z. Then some joke about Gabe that falls flat with the audience. He says he’s not really a religious man except when he shaves, and that’s his time to talk to God. He has questions like, “why did they make a Mach 3? And why did I buy it? And why do you have to put so many important veins and arteries right here?” He says every time they add a blade his chances of survival go down 38 percent. He closes with the fact that the 800 number below him isn’t a telethon. Vote! And he’s out!
Chris Porter and the clue to the lame question asked of him via the producers – if he had to sum up the LCS experience in one word it would be “intense”. Yeah. To quote my 8-year-old self, “A-doy!” Then he launches into the fact that the PEOPLE ON THE MESSAGE BOARDS (that’s you people – you’re famous! Or at least some of you are) were blasting his set, and he said, “perhaps they didn’t see his standing ovation.” Poor Chris. Everyone is stupid except for him.
Chris’s act: He’s excited he’s sober, and then launches into an entire set on being wasted. First, he talks about how he used to smoke pot and eat mushrooms, and doesn’t have a joke about ‘shrooms, just advice, when you’re on them, Jesus isn’t going to contact you by phone, and the people who call you are not on mushrooms, so it’s going to make for some weird conversations. Like, a friend calls and says, “hey man, what are you doing?” and you answer, “well I was in the closet and then you called. He says they don’t know you’re tripping but now they think you’re gay – he says he doesn’t care about being gay, and wonders about easy someone’s life must be if they’re constantly worried about other people’s gayness. He then insists he’s not attracted to the bleep (I will assume he said “hoo-ha”, just to bring it to ye clean!) , and he says that he’s not even attracted to his own! He knocks it senseless every day, “it’s a bad boy, need to keep it in check, discipline is key.” He goes back to los drogas when he talks about how lame the anti-drug commercials are, especially the one where the little girl on the bike is hit by the stoners in the drive-through. He’s saying it would never happen, and what’s with her, she should “look both ways, beyatch!” He says instead of them staying off drugs, maybe SHE should stay off her bike! He also says the commercial doesn’t give you the full story – as soon as the girl was hit she just looked at the guys and said, “you big stupid”, seeing as how they hit her at 12 miles per hour. Then he talks about the commercial with the kid floating face down in the pool, and at first you’re wondering, “what the hell are they selling here? Jeans?” He then says it’s not an anti-pot scenario, it’s an anti-pool scenario, if you had a regular back yard that kid would be fine! And he’s out!
Ty Barnett is happy to be here. <--see what I’m saying? Is this an actual, necessary intro.? I could have used another “the More You Know” on gonorrhea starring Tony Danza. He (Ty, not Tony) says his nerves are kicking back in, but when he’s on stage, he loves performing and he’s ready to do the dang thing and then the cast of Star Trek comes in and they all start singing the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. Or not.
Ty’s act: He’s originally from Chicago, but pays child support in Seattle. He says he’s kidding….he doesn’t pay child support. *cymbal crash* He got a ticket the other day for not wearing a seatbelt – he understands wanting safety, so…shouldn’t there be seatbelts on buses? He says that saying you don’t need protection on public transportation is like saying “always practice safe sex unless you’re sleeping with a prostitute.” He bought a DVD player and reminisces about when DVDs first came out and they advertised extra footage, and how it’s morphed into deleted scenes not good enough to get in the movie – why are you showing us that? It’s like “having sex with someone and then pulling out pics of people they could have been with.” He talks about remembering cartoons as a kid being over by noon, now they can watch cartoons all day via the cartoon network – he wonders who they’re broadcasting to? Is there a 3-year-old with candy cigarettes and hot chocolate muttering, “I can’t sleep, I’ve got shapes tomorrow.” He talks about how not everyone should be allowed to be a parent, that they should have to take a test. “The results show that you don’t qualify for a child, but you can have a turtle.” Then he talks about how some guy offered him meth, and he turned it down due because one, he has an addictive personality, and two, “you can’t cook. If I can’t trust you with eggs, I don’t think that bleep is in your area.” He doesn’t like it when people drink and do drugs and call it a disease – an addiction is an addiction. He says that no one ever tried to sell him a bag of teburculosis. He finishes with the fact that they found out a family member was going through drug problems, his cousin – for medical reasons. “Because he found out he had a lazy eye.” And he’s out!
Next week: The finale! <---this is all you get in way of intro. It’s the finale, people, it’ll be prerecorded LIVE, there is no pre-footage! Nein! (And I’d like to thank Jesus now for that.) Stay tuned for SueEllen’s awesomely awestacular recap extravaganza!
Totally zorbed out. email@example.com