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Show me, don't tell me, You've figured out the score...Show me, don't tell me, I've heard it all before...Show me, don't tell me, I don't care what you say...Show me, don't tell me...You can twist perceptions, Reality won't budge...You can raise objections, I will be the judge...And the jury...I'll give it due reflection, Watching from the fence...Give the jury direction, Based on the evidence...I, the jury...Show, Don't tell

Dec 11, 2007

Gladiators, Joe's Diner, bloody Terrible Towels, Burt Reynolds, Bear Blasting, Britney, Romo the Homo, and Coach Gibb's drool cup

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Last week, I said that the winners of the writers’ strike would ultimately be us, the viewers. Well, this week I’m here to tell you that…. I WAS TOTALLY RIGHT! In fact, I had no idea how awesome this was gonna’ be. I was just looking forward to some fun awards show moments. I had NO IDEA what other fallout was on the horizon. I mean, I knew that the elimination of scripted shows from regular programming would prompt an increase in reality television and game shows but I did not anticipate the news I heard yesterday. And it makes soooo much sense. Reality television, game shows. Game shows, reality television. You got chocolate in my peanut butter. You got peanut butter in my chocolate. What was the perfect blend of reality television with a game show, stirred up with just the perfect pinches of spandex, steroids, horrible announcers, and people who take themselves waaay to seriously?
Um, look below…


That’s right, American Gladiators is back! Where? On NBC, where else? Shit, if they gave Alec Baldwin a sitcom, they’ll fuckin’ try anything. Sadly, Malibu will not be part of the new cast as nowadays he’s most likely working as night manager of a Gold’s Gym somewhere in the San Francisco Bay area, still putting the exclamation point on his workouts by slamming a fistful of roids and now also chasing them with some Rogaine, a little Viagra, and a tall glass of Maalox to help keep him regular. And speaking of Rogaine, Hulk Hogan is going to be a part of the new cast. Not as a gladiator, at least I don’t think so. Likely, more as a color commentator (Brother!). Joining him as a commentator/host is Laila Ali. Now I must admit, I was kinda hoping for Todd Christensen and his perm or Larry Czonka and his messed up face to come back as the color guys. Christensen was always taking long pauses as looking for some kind of spiritual meaning or motivation behind why some gym teacher from Houston was inconceivably able to knock Blaze off of her perch in the joust competition. And Czonka always seemed one stray twitch away from tearing someone’s head off, tucking it under his arm and running through a wall. Then there was Mike Adamle. Remember him? He was the pint-sized former NFL running back (back when there were white NFL running backs) who treated every episode like he was broadcasting the Super Bowl. If he’s back, this thing is sure to make a weekly appearance on The Soup and get it’s own YouTube channel. Oh, and I almost forgot, Joe Theisman was the original co-host with Adamle. Last I checked, he wasn’t doing anything. Um, whaddya say we go ahead and keep it that way.
So, other than the Hulkster and Muhammad Ali’s daughter, who’s on the show? Good question (that I just asked myself). Though it’s supposed to begin airing in January, they’ve released no information on other announcers or the cast of mutants, er, gladiators. But you can be sure that each of the gladiators will be freakishly proportioned and come with an alias that sounds like a cross between a porn star and a superhero. The last batch had names like Nitro, Blaze, Ice, Zap, Turbo, Storm, Bronco, Siren (the only deaf gladiator), Laser, and, of course, Malibu. Over the six seasons from ’89-’96, they defended their turf in such events as Joust, Breakthrough and Conquer, Powerball, and Assault.

The only thing missing in the original was personality. The gladiators had none and the contestants were mostly dull. I usually found myself not giving a shit who won. What the hell good is a game show/sporting event if you can’t root for someone and wish humiliation on another? Seriously, right? So (of course) I have a plan to solve this problem the second time around. I’ve compiled a list of new gladiators who are all sure to draw your interest. They are listed below, eight men, eight women, along with their new American Gladiator nicknames.

Mark McGwire- Andro
Mike Tyson- Rapester
Pac Man Jones- The Rain Man
Tom Cruise- Half Pint Phaeton
Lawrence Taylor- Snort
Dog the Bounty Hunter- Biggot
Macho Man Randy Savage- Grandpa Macho
Carrot Top- Hack
Jessica Simpson- Ditz
Britney Spears- Sleaze
New York (from Flava of Love)- Drama
The Olsen Twins- Sleepy and Sneezy
Jenna Jameson- Swallow
Carmen Elektra- Nipples
And of course, my old girlfriend…
Kim Kardashian- Booty

Please make it happen, NBC. Do it for me. Do it for America. Do it for ratings. Mostly, do it for poor Malibu, living off of residuals and his crappy Gold’s Gym salary. If you do this right, the sky’s the limit. Next stop, a new & improved Battle of the Network Stars. Ooh, the girls from Heroes suited up for swimming competitions.... I think I just pitched a tent. Now, on with the matchups….




Thursday Night

Broncos at Texans-
I’m guessing that slightly less people will be pissed off about not having the NFL Network and missing this one. But as the commercial says, there ought to be some “Shanihanigans” in this one. Have you seen those Joe’s Diner commercials on the NFL Network? I love ‘em. Don’t know if it’s the witty banter, the bearded guy’s Boston accent, or the fact that Joe Montana is stuck working as a hapless fry cook. Probably all three. I hope Montana burned himself during one of the takes. And I may be getting old but I firmly believe that all men should be able to spend at least one extended lunch or breakfast per week at a diner with his pals. Coffee, cigarettes, eggs, toast, some kind of meat, maybe bacon or ham, sausage, something from a pig, and discussions about sports, movies, things that piss you off, guys you want to punch, and women you’d like to bang if you weren’t a married middle-class loser spending your morning in a diner.



Saturday Night

Bengals at Niners
-
This may not make up for two Super Bowl defeats but I’ll take it. Damn you 49ers, damn you all straight to hell!!!



Sunday

Jets at Patriots
-
This one is sure to get U.G.L.Y. I say we just throw Belichek and Mangini into a steel cage and let ‘em fight to the death. I’m guessing Mangini would quickly take Belicheck to the ground and eventually administer a submission hold, only to have Belichek pull a camera from his hoodie and clock Mangini in the ear with it. Then Randy Moss runs in with a folding chair as the referee frantically calls for the timekeeper to ring the bell.




Jaguars at Steelers-
It must’ve taken a shitload of Terrible Towels to stop the bleeding from that anal raping up in Foxboro last weekend. I hear there are just three cases of them left and they all belong to a gas station owner in West Virginia. Word has it that he’s either going to put them up on Ebay or give them away to charity. And by “give them away to charity”, I mean give them away to Charity. Charity’s a low-class stripper in Huntington who gives high-class BJs and often works on the barter system. Just one Terrible Towel will typically buy you ten minutes of oral delight, complete with her patented move, the “Mine Shaft”.






Seahawks at Panthers-
The John Fox Farewell Tour heads back to Charlotte!



Ravens at Dolphins-
Here’s a sentence that has never been written before:
Cleo Lemon will be the best quarterback in the stadium this Sunday.
Unless, of course, Jamie Foxx, Keanu Reeves, or Burt Reynolds happen to be watching from a luxury box.






Packers at Rams-
Stephen Jackson is… Awesome. If he scores a touchdown, runs through the end zone and right through the wall, I would classify my reaction as only “mildly surprised”. It’s like instead of blood, he’s got Powerthirst running through his veins. And I believe Fox Sports has reported that he’s the only NFL player currently capable of Bear-Blasting.
(see video at bottom of blog)




Cardinals at Saints-
Our first true Parachute Game of the season. Two teams, one parachute. Winner floats safely down to keep fighting for a playoff spot, loser smashes face-first into the earth, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust and a crap stain on the back of its pants. I once fell face-first and crapped my pants but it had nothing to do with football. Or parachutes. Let’s just say it involved a half dozen too many Jagermeister shots, three cheese coneys, and an ill-advised jump off of a retaining wall. Good times.




Titans at Chiefs-
Time for this week’s pop quiz….
When the Titans team plane leaves Nashville and heads to Kansas City, which direction will it be flying?
a) Northwest
b) Southwest
c) Due West
d) Up
e) From one crappy little redneck town to another crappy little redneck town

Answer: a, d, and e




Bills at Browns-
This isn’t the first time that two candidates for Coach of the Year have squared off this late in the regular season. But it is the first time that two Coach of the Year candidates have squared off this late in the regular season where one of the coaches was physically able to actually eat the other coach.







Falcons at Buccaneers-
Vick(arrested), Schaub(traded), Harrington(injured), Leftwich(injured), Shockley(injured), Redman. The Falcons have gone through quarterbacks like Britney Spears goes through grande moccachino lattes with extra whip. That bitch is crazy.





Colts at Raiders-
Hey fellas, it’s Cheerleader Posedown Time!!!












Eagles at Cowboys-
As if I didn't hate Romo's cheesy little grinning fuck face enough already, then I stumble upon this....



Where the fuck is my shovel?




Lions at Chargers-
Ever since Jon Kitna and his wife decided to use Halloween as an opportunity to dress up & make fun of one of the Lions coaches, they’ve lost five straight. Concidence? Yeah, probably. Karma? Definitely.





Redskins at Giants-
Could someone please make sure that Coach Gibbs is awake, fed, and dressed well before gametime? Thanks. Last week we cut it a bit close. At one point, he wandered away unattended in the tunnel with a TV Guide, a can of orange soda, wearing only his adult diaper and yelling at the cheerleaders to give him a sponge bath. This man is an icon people, please keep him restrained and/or medicated so he doesn’t embarrass himself. And, for the last time, do not forget to have his drool cup handy at all times!



Monday Night

Bears at Tinks (Vikings)-

Forgive me Purple Jesus, for I know not what I do.


....Aaaand Johnny B's jaw just hit the floor.

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