Thankfully, mercifully, wonderfully, I rejoice that the holidays are over. This year I was called everything from a “lamer” to a “scrooge” because I don’t enjoy the time from Halloween to New Year’s Eve. Well, tighten your chinstrap, kids, because I’m about to blow sparks out of your ears: I love the other ten months. From January to October I’m a delirious, drooling giggler who runs through rainbow fields with the unicorns and waves bouquets of angel-kiss gumdrops at the Pee-pants Happiness Gnomes. So I get a little gloomy for the last 60 days... I don’t like people telling me when to be happy and when to be miserable. For general rebelliousness’s sake, I reverse the accepted order of things and I think it’s to my benefit.
For 10/12ths of your time (or 5/6ths or however that “math” thing spins around, I’m not sure) you drudge your ugly kids in your ugly car to Ugly Practice then a Stupidity Recital and a Dullard Bee. When you get home, it’s nine minutes of digging in various orifices followed by five hours of watching your favorite show, Hair Growth and Its Removal, and then it’s off to light-beer-plus-mood-elevator-medication-and-a-mug-of-cough-syrup-sleepy-time. Then, start it all over in the morn. Like a mouth-breathing chromosomal-disordered chimpanzee who’s been given a kitten, you spring alive, starry-eyed, wet and ridiculous, when the end of the year rolls ’round because you get to dress up like elves and give each other spray-painted wicker ducks, and suddenly there’s fudge everywhere. You shut off your TV for half a day, put on your Goats Bleat the Classics records; that’s the holiday spirit!
January 4 comes and you’re slapping a child on his ear and neck in the steak-sandwiches aisle of a Kmart Clearance Center and Elementary School. And you stay in Angryville until mid-October.
Which of us has it backwards?
I don’t want to be told when to put on my ghost costume (a sheet with eyeholes cut into it) or when to put on a red sweater or when delicious candy corn is an acceptable breakfast or when a parasitic tree-killing weed should induce amorous smooching if hung from a doorway. I don’t want to be told when to wear grown-up pants and when high-heels are okay for men.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, my Viking helmet and tricycle await.
WHAT I WILL AND WON'T WATCH THIS WEEK
Thursday, January 8
Notorious B.I.G. Bigger Than Life
BET 7:30 p.m.
Dimebag Darrel is the angry white kids’ version of Biggie Smalls, who is the black version of John Lennon. Dale Earnhardt is the Walmart version of Steve McQueen, much as Go-Bots were the poor kids’ version of Transformers. It all comes back to Optimus Prime. It all comes back to Optimus Prime.
HGTV 8:00 p.m.
If history is any indicator, I’ll buy a house three years after all my friends buy theirs, and I’ll purchase some really big (but kinda pretty from the curb) house because I feel a lot of pressure. And I’ll be drunk. And the house will be drunk. And I’ll have a tiny mustache that has just barely come in. And so will the house.
Friday, January 9
Howie Do It
NBC 8:00 p.m.
You have to begrudgingly respect Howie Mandel. He was supposed to fade into obscurity 25 years ago, but he’s dodged anonymity like Neo dodges bullets in The Matrix. After this show is canceled, I want to see him fly around in a black suit and sunglasses and make out with a chick who’s kinda hot but gets incrementally hotter when she puts on rubber pants.
Saturday, January 10
World’s Strongest Man Competition
ESPN 2:00 p.m.
As part of my New Year’s resolutions, I’ve stopped drinking booze and started lifting weights. Well, boxes of wine don’t count as “booze,” and by “weights” I really mean “big cheeseburgers.” I’ve also shaved myself all over and only wear bodybuilder thongs. (Psst...they’re not really bodybuilder thongs, they’re my girlfriend’s underpants and a wig I found on University Avenue. I don’t think anyone can tell the difference though. Shhh.)
History 10:00 p.m.
It’s here, folks. You can squabble about who knew what when and who saw the first signs of it coming and Federal Reserve rate-drops and the price of oil in Alaska, but when boots hit the pavement, who’re you gonna come whining to? Me. Who’s got the shotgun and the awesome sauce?! WHO’S GOT THE SHOTGUN AND THE AWESOME SAUCE?!
Sunday, January 11
Dane Cook: Rough Around the Edges
Comedy 10:00 p.m.
Dane needs one good friend to sit him down and say, “Dane, dude, you’re handsome and charismatic, but you’re not funny. In fact, you’re so unfunny it’s embarrassing. The only thing less funny than you is a pit bull eating a baby, but even then...you know, if the baby squeaked or something it’d be a toss-up.”
Monday, January 12
The O’Reilly Factor
Fox News 8:00 p.m.
Is it me or is everyone else waiting for Bill O’Reilly to melt down on camera. I mean, if it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen in the next two years. Come on, Bill. We know you’ve got it in you. Tell us what you think of Obama and the Democratic Congress; take that heaping spoonful of crazypants.
Tuesday, January 13
Rick Steve’s Iran
PBS 9:00 p.m.
Well, I have to say, I’m a little impressed, Rick. Until now you’ve just been a lithe-wristed wine sipper in Venice and Paris. Iran, Rick? You’re lettin’ your huevos show.
Wednesday, January 14
ABC 8:00–11:00 p.m.
Three hours. If you promise to leave and never come back and stop trying to convince me so hard that you’re really good instead of a medium-sized heap of garbage on top of a large heap of garbage, you can have the three hours. Just go after this, okay? Just go.
Thursday, January 15
The Grudge 2
FX 8:00 p.m.
Maybe it’s my fifth-grade sense of humor, but I go straight to toilet jokes when I see this title.