On the Tee Vees
RHONJ, the episode that proves Rosie needs her own spin-off

To hell with the rest of these feuding maroons.

Far more provocative and watchable Potential Rosie spin-offs:

Ring-Around-the-Rosie:  Adventures in Babysitting meets Kindergarten Cop! Watch the bumbling gruff-ster with a heart of gold as she tries her hand at running a daycare center without losing all of her marbles. 13 episode tally: Fatal accidents narrowly avoided: 32; smoke breaks: 397; number of times “Holy Cannoli!” is exclaimed: 654; laughs: ENDLESS!

Cannonball Rosie: Half MTV Spring Break, half America’s Got Talent, watch  rockin’ Rosie host an endless pool party overflowing with contests, prizes, and hilarity! Slap on some sunscreen, and don’t forget your suit!

An hour of Rosie doing anything, literally anything, as long as it doesn’t involve the New Jersey Housewives.

Girls, the first episode to give me a genuine belly laugh with this

I have a boat/butt load of things I don’t like about my face, but I’m very thankful that my combination of Hairy Irish Monster Syndrome plus a general laziness toward grooming and fear of plucking mean “invisible eyebrows” isn’t one of them. If I had to draw mine in, I doubt they’d be much more subtle than this. She’s like Gargamel with a splash of prison bitch.


*click on each image to get the full view; some parts got cut off*

I made this because of the recent news coming out about NBC’s Fall lineup.

It was hastily made in Photoshop, but I think I get my point across (I also think I speak for many who feel the same way I feel!)

Share this! Pass this wherever you want. It’s about the message.

30 Rock, the episode where Criss mans up for Liz

"Now let’s go to bed!…and watch Dance Moms."

Real Housewives of Orange County, the episode where we can all agree Vicki’s new squeeze Brooks is a serial killer.

Enough pearl-clutching about Brianna eloping. Yes, probably unwise, since yes, the odds are stacked pretty heavily against those crazy kids, but whatever. The guy seems normal, unassuming, and not terribly impressed by the cameras and his own voice, rightly more concerned with his brand new wife (and if it’s an act, it’s a damn good one) and her feelings.

Brooks, on the other hand…something about that “I’m just a twinkly-eyed genteel gentleman tryin’ to please you, darlin’” shtick is so affected and calculated it raises my hackles right up and makes me wonder if in addition to allegedly missing child support payments, there are also a few bodies stacked in some suburban basement.

That empty love tank of Vicki’s must have been pretty bottomless, or the leak it sprung must have also caused her Bullshit Detector to short circuit for her to allow herself to be spoon-fed such saccharine tripe from that guy. He’s only known you a couple months and he writes you AFFIRMATIONS, Vicki? He meets your kids for all of 10 minutes and tries to engage them in Real Talk about family business? Oh, Vicki. No.

Interior Therapy, the episode with the ManChild who owns the cool/creepy robot.

Oh, Manchildren.

Something about seeing noncommittal dudes like that in action immediately conjures my inner Ms. Barch from Daria, the seething teacher never without an ax to grind who would go on these long, entertaining tirades about how all men are pigs.

"You tell his foppish, twee bow-tie wearing, nervous giggling, namby-pamby lilly white ManChild ass to ring it up or you are OUT OF THERE, Cookie, and you’re breaking his pervy robot on your way out!" my inner Ms. Barch may have yelled at the poor yoga instructor.

But I mean, if we’re to subdue Ms. Barch for a moment in the name of fairness, who WAS more infuriating in this episode? ManChild for not unpacking his baggage in the name of getting to wake up to a seemingly reasonable, totally banging YOGA INSTRUCTOR, oh my Lord did you see her in those little shorts, every morning, or the yoga instructor for taking his shit for so long? That line “you get what you put up with” springs to mind and is unfortunately applicable to so many relationships, on the tee vees and off…you know what, wait, nope, still blaming him.

Anyway, I hope she’s long broken up with him by now, bullet dodged, his fridge was abominable etc. But confession, I totally want that creepy robot.

RHOJ, the episode that soundly proves that Lauren Manzo needs to get rid of her family, seriously, they are revolting.

Yes, Caroline “I never had lap band surgery, I lost weight from healthy eating!” Manzo, the best way to motivate your vulnerable daughter and bolster her self-esteem is most definitely to criticize her lack of will power and laugh along with Dweezer and Doozer Manzo as they make fat jokes at her expense and encourage Vito to ogle thinner women.

 I feel like this poor woman is a starfish that somehow got itself stuck in a bucket of chum and needs a good samaritan to pluck her out and throw her back into the ocean.  

Real Housewives of New Jersey

Dear Lauren Manzo,

I don’t know what ended up happening with that “nutritionist” and if all these months later you’re still seeing the dude or what, but I sure hope not. That guy? Is no nutritionist. When the scene opened with you and Caroline entering his office, my Sun Chips and I were all set to cheer you on from the couch for taking that step, one I’ve also been meaning to take for awhile but always seem to have an excuse at the ready to put it off because frankly, there are just Too Many Damn Sun Chips in the world.

…then he said “here’s what you’ll be eating,” and presented you with a container of MOTHERFUCKING EGG WHITES and some sad berries. NO. No no no no no. I mean yes—of course you will lose weight if all you eat for two months straight are egg whites and berries. The weight will melt off, you’ll be excited, life will be great for a couple of months. But then one day you will stop eating egg whites and sad berries and try to resume eating “normally.” And then your metabolism will say “time to pay the piper,” or something along those lines but a bit less antiquated and will shove those pounds and even more pounds back on your frame  so fast your perfectly applied eye makeup will streak. 

And then you will feel even more upset and defeated, and that would suck, because you are one of the only relatable people in this whole tootin’ franchise, and you don’t deserve that kind of grief.

Please find a real nutritionist who advocates lots of food groups, moderation and portion control,  and who will not train a rusty chainsaw on your soul by subjecting you to a life of egg whites and sad berries.



The Pitch

Uggh, so baffled on this one: were the Waste Management execs watching the same two presentations I was, or was that “ha! made you think it was the other guys, didn’t we?” angle (one of the most gimmicky and tiresome reality show tropes that I thought AMC might be above, but no such luck) skewed to also leave out any glaring flaws in the Ad Store’s campaign?

All I can say is, even days later, I am still sort of beautifully haunted in a single sepia-tinted tear rolling down my cheek kind of way by the “Trash Can.” slogan and the campaign’s simple effectiveness, and a few days later I am still  pretty incredulous that nobody at either SK+G or Waste Management piped up after seeing the ”WOW” concept on paper and said, “um, wait a minute guys, hold the phone: wasn’t WOW also a brand of chips that made everybody shit in the 90’s? And since that brand is also unfortunately but kind of hilariously associated with ’waste,’ is this maybe going to be an issue? Can anyone back me up on this?”

It wasn’t just the slogan, though. SK+G’s campaign tried so hard in its image revamp that it was overblown on every level and screamed “kids these days—here’s what they want, amIrite?” Day Glo colors, wiggling graphics, an interactive smart phone app letting you make a magazine picture come to life that, in spite of its pointlessness, DOES seem rather funny and cool the first time you’d try it, but that’s just it—the first time, and then ”poof” goes the novelty.

And let’s not even pretend that during the pitch itself that SK+G held a candle to the other firm. Bald Interrupting Asshole is a self-professed asshole, yes. Still doesn’t excuse his interjections at such a crucial make-or-break moment for the company. Completely unprofessional. Why was no one at Waste Management perceptive enough to question that if SK+G can’t reign in their employees to cooperate for a one-hour pitch, how are they going to effectively steer the account going forward?

Whatever, Waste Management. I’ll take the perfectly grizzled, sharp as a tack, non-Oxford educated NY ad man any day over Soul Patch Adams over there.

Know what the only thing sadder than a soul patch is? A greying soul patch.