Pajiba

"I'm everything you need...to make you complete..."

Damn you Alex the Odd, damn you straight to puss spewing hell!

It will be weeks before I can get those Casio synthesizer pre-packaged "beats" outta my head. Oh god I can still hear them, I'm gonna have to shoot myself.

Now, I will admit to liking Zeppelin myself, but I'm not a fanatic. However, even if I hated everything they ever created, I'd still be bewildered and horrified that an ENTERTAINMENT reporter didn't know who they were, nor recognized any of the countless songs that have been used as soundtracks, punchlines and to shill crappy cars. That blew my mind. Not to mention the rest of the post - yikes. I hate to be cliche, but seriously, I weep for the future.

Thanks Alex, that was...refreshing. I only managed to watch about 15 seconds of it before shutting it off, but it was enough. Trust me. Now I'm afraid of falling asleep.

Oof, don't do that. I read The biggest casualty of the strike so far: No more Liz Lemon and immediately thought that 30 Rock had been permanently canceled. Felt like a kick in the stomach. I'm already so deep into withdrawal from my weekly fix I watch the clip of Alex Baldwin's Good Times "bust up your chiffarobe" master class in acting five times a day. If they do cancel it, I may have to take up sniffing glue again.

I told them to take my name off that train wreck when that little dipshit insisted on doing his own choreography!

How can you be underwhelmed by the new American Gladiators? The original was broadcast (at least in my area) on Saturday afternoons, so it isn't like there was this high standard to achieve. They both fulfill their purpose: showing backyard atheletes getting the shit smacked out of them by people with legs the size of Mack trucks.

Now, if you are watching it after seeing a marathon of Ninja Warrior (like I did) then yes, it is weak sauce in the extreme. In fact, it almost seems a little fixed, especially the Eliminator. How come every single frontrunner always gets tripped up on that goddamn reverse escalator?

During my indentured servitude working at a televison network affiliate in Chicago, (I was an intern for the entertainment reporter - no pay, just college credit) I witnessed the incredible stupidity that is the entertainment correspondent.

He was, I believe, a former actor who never made it therefore he was quite suited for this job.
He was not the "bubble-headed bleach blond" that Don Henley sang about in the song "Dirty Laundry" but he was close. He was also a good 25 to 30 years older than me. I was born in the early 70s.

I'm not a fan of the Beatles (Zeppelin - hells yeah) but even I know that they had a song called "When I'm 64". My boss, on air, referred to it as "When I'm 65". The phone lines lit up instantly. Idiot.

He wanted to refer to Charlton Heston as Carlton Heston on air. When I corrected him, he told me I was wrong. I said I was quite sure I was correct but I knew not to argue with him so I said okay and let it go. He looked at me as though maybe I could be right so he went to check it out. He later told me I was right. Dumbass.

This was in the early 90s at the height of Billy Ray Cyrus "Achy Breaky" popularity. He told me to call Billy Ray's publicist to find out how to correctly say his last name. I say it is Sy-rus. He says its Sir-rus. I say no, it is Sy-rus. He says call the publicist. Guess what, everybody? It is pronounced Sy-rus. Stupid fucking moron.

Yeah, that was a fun summer. Good times. There are more examples but those are my favorite. Just goes to show that stupidity knows no age.

Sorry for the long post, but that felt good to get out.

Heh, I'm just glad that more people now have the opportunity to share my pain. The horror. The horror.

Led Zepplin was pretty much the soundtrack to my New Year's Eve thanks to my flatmate deciding to monopolise the stereo with his newly bought (by moi) Christmas present. Bless.

The thing I find most disturbing about your story jen310 is that now nobody on Earth could mispronounce his name due to the prevalance of Hanna Motherfucking Montana. A fact that makes me even sadder for the imminent demise of our culture.

You wound me, TK right to the very core of my being.

And bringing out the "Lexi" that's cold, man. Real cold.

I loved the new American Gladiators. The cheesy scripted quips, the excruciating pain from players on the Eliminator, the hot Crush lady. It was like being a child all over again.

I think part of the reason the reverse treadmill is so hard is that by the end you're sapped especially your legs from the climb up that cargo net which is NOT easy because it hangs so loose.

Dexter and Deb? I'd hit that! And by "that," I mean both.

I was trying search around for an "eww" feeling because they're sibs on the show, then I remembered they're both adopted. Adopted brother-and-sister ugly-bumping = even hotter.

So boderline-inscest is your particular "bag" then socalled?

It's interesting what Pajiba Love can teach us about a person. And to think, I thought you were all booze and little substance. Now we find out that you have weird, slightly pedestrian kinks. Fascinating stuff.

I know who Squeaky Fromme is, but only because I happened to be alive during her 15 minutes of fame. I think most people can be excused for not recognizing the name.

However, I grew up with Led Zep, and aside from Stairway to Heaven, I couldn't tell you what other songs they made. If you played one for me, I also couldn't tell you who did it. Of course, I can't recognize any Britney Spears songs, either, and I'm rather proud of that.

Oh, and those gladiator pics made me want to puke. Please tell me they were faked. Please.

That's ok, Vermillion, I forgive you; Sasuke just holds a special place in my heart. I did laugh at the super cheesy outfits, although I was disappointed by the lack of flowing locks.

BWeaves, do yourself a favor and download Led Zep's "Kashmir" -- that one's a life-changer. One of many important lessons I learned from Fast Times at Ridgemont High.

ATO, it's the forbidden fruit that we desire most. But now that you mention it, Deb looks a bit like my own biological sister and I just. don't. need. that. inmyhead...

Deb's rack vs. Dexter's guns: WHO YA GOT!?

Amen to that wsapnin, he can restrain me in Saran wrap any day. Ok, I may have just given myself nightmares.

And TK, while I may be guilty of hideous oversharing (and revelations about my love of horrendously tacky "music" videos) I reveal nothin on the interwebs that I would be unhappy to have discussed at a dinner table (of course said table my be located in, oh say, a brothel but my point still stands).