An Ode to Becoming Irrelevant

In an era where your relationship doesn't count unless it's on Facebook, an idea isn't legitimate until it's on Pinterest, and a thought is meaningless until it's broadcasted to the Twitterverse, one can't help but to ponder the topic of irrelevancy. Hell, the sole reason why this blog exists is to remind myself that I have a semblance of a sense of humor and, on occasion, a poignant thought or two (bold statement... noted). Though, amidst this seemingly universal sentiment, there is a frightening amount of TV becoming as irrelevant as the Yellow Pages, beepers, or even terrestrial radio (like... what is that?). Let's take a look at those shows slowly but surely securing their place in the cobwebbed attic of the silver screen...

Jersey Shore

Is this show back? No seriously... is it? It's pretty bad that I even have to ask that question as an entertainment industry professional (weird... I've never said that aloud before). Hold on... I just Googled... ah well yes it appears that the new season is in fact running. It also looks like Vinny may have left? (I always liked him) ...But then he came back? (Ugh, comeon). Bottom line: this show has stretched out it's welcome much like Deena's stretched out JWow's hand-me-downs. Snooki can diet as much as she wants; nothing is going to change the life expectancy of this show. The moment Jersey Shore becomes relevant to me again is when in 4o years MTV decides to air a reunion special: Boca Raton Shore. I'd love to see what years of tannarexia does to their aging faces.

GLEE

At least this show recognizes that no one cares anymore. No way in hell they'd toy with a "Finn and Rachel" getting married story line if anyone was actually paying attention. Next thing you know, aliens from planet Schuster will come and abduct all members of New Directions (Ryan Murphy you'd love that, wouldn't you?). Aside from gimmicky episodes like this week's MJ tribute (which, despite my bellyaching, was ridiculously entertaining), it's becoming all the more clear that McKinley graduation day and the series' doomsday are one in the same. Sorry, Britney.

Desperate Housewives

I've never left a show in its final season... that is until now. Yes, I'll always have a spot in my heart for the series that gave women and gay men everywhere a shirtless Jesse Metcalfe, but I can no longer stomach James Denton's blatant disrespect for the acting craft. Sure, he's OK to look at but watching him act makes my brain shrivel. I held on passed the "fast forward" all too long... farewell old friend... farewell.

The Bachelor

It's no secret to faithful readers that I've had my ups and downs with The Bach franchise. So many fond memories... yet so many doody bubbles. In my humble opinion, it's all gone sour since Jillian's season. We've had nothing but weenies, whiners, and ugly ducklings ever since. Until this show cuts the fat and starts from scratch with someone remotely desirable, my Mondays will be exclusively spent with CBS sitcoms.

How Nigel Lythgoe got his Black Spot

…No, I don’t mean his mole. Wait… does he even have a mole? I don’t think so. Anyway…

It was announced earlier today that Fox has cancelled the So You Think You Can Dance results show. How did we find out, you ask? In true whiney-bitch form, Nigel tweeted: "FOX have cancelled the results show so I will have to change the format of SYTYCD. At least we have another season at the end of MAY." Methinks Nigel was not the most popular kid on the playground with all this tattle-taling we’re so privy to. Starting a twitter war against Fox is the 2012 equivalent to whispering “Sally totally hooked up with your boyfriend” to a middle school cheerleader. Oh you naughty boy, Nigel.

While I joke, there is some validity in leveraging a social giant to lay the path towards mass hysteria and I am 100% on board, sinking ship or not. No, this is not just a tweet. This tweet is the defense in a major counterstrike against the big fat black spot Nigel’s just been handed. Ay, matey… the black spot is better known as the kiss of death.

A Short History on “The Black Spot:”

The first appearance of the black spot can be found in the 1883 novel, Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson. For those less cultured, the black spot was also an ominous device utilized in more recent pirate classics like Pirates of the Caribbean, or Muppets Treasure Island (great, GREAT flick).

Where was I? Oh yeah…

The cancellation of the results show is no doubt the first step towards ultimate demise. Next thing you know, they’ll move the performance show to Friday where series go to die. And then what? Will we be forced to watch half famous non-dancers have their way on the dance floor?! Will I have to be subject to Brooke Burke’s cringe-worthy interviews? NOT IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH IT! Friends, pirates, lovers of all things dance, I challenge you to tie sails to your remote controls this summer and give SYTYCD its highest watched season yet! Avast, Fox! Offer us a parley! So help me God if this show gets cancelled I will boycott your entire network! (Except Glee… and New Girl… and American Idol…).

Heave ho, landlovers. And God speed, Nigel.

For Auld Lang Syne

Greetings and Happy New Year to the five people that read this blog!

My, my, was 2011 a roller coaster! I got a new job, shacked up with man-friend, and was finally able to say the words “I’m my favorite number old” (that’s 25 for those of you who assumed I was much older based on my superfluous maturity). Despite the highs of 2011, it’s with particular fondness that I look to the year ahead. With so much lady-tickle-generating events to come (weddings… engagements… an election that will hopefully not make me want to gauge my eyes out), I can boldly say that, world-end-or-not, 2012 is going to be to human history what the dawn of American Idol was to television. Alright fine… maybe that was too bold…

While I selfishly hope your holiday hangovers left you as bloated and fatigued as I am, I’d like to support your unspoken resolutions with some new year affirmations from our favorite friends of the silver screen… you know… for auld lang syne. As I’m sure you’re aware, the new year brought a new episode of How I Met Your Mother. Although the half hour was unnecessary at best, it did subtly provide a Chinese menu of resolutions and mantras through the meaningless and recycled song-and-dance of seasons of auld. Take your pick below and grab a soda (or a gogi berry green tea… blehk you, new year’s diets):

#1: When life gives you lemons, hope someone else gets rotten lemons:

2011 was a rough year for our friend, Robyn. She reluctantly left her seat on camera, was forced into anger management (in all fairness, though, that didn’t turn out to be so bad), and was hit with the news that she’d never have kids. Talk about lemons, huh? Well if last night taught us anything, it’s that lemons can come in all shape and sizes. For Sandy Rivers, those lemons came in the form of lemon drop shots, lemon-tinis, lemoncello, and any other lemon-related alcohol reference I can make. It was his booze-based demise that allowed for Robyn to grab back hold of the microphone and show New York what they’d been missing. Moral of the story: if your life sucks, and someone else’s life sucks more, your life may not suck so bad anymore.

#2: It’s never too late to give up on your drunken dreams:

Some of you may remember Ted and Barney’s master plan of opening a bar called Puzzles (why puzzles? Well therein lies the puzzle. Oh, Barney). Most likely, however, you do not remember this as the episode in reference was more than a season ago and it was stupid. After McClarens proved to be a NYE rip-off, the duo transformed Ted’s apartment into a very 675-esque establishment and fulfilled their drunken vision. I was so inspired that I decided to revive my drunken vision, the beer-fart 3000, a devise that will allow a person to fart unabashedly without the sound and smell of your last 15 beers. In fact, I’ve even contacted NASA about it (assuming the email inventionsguy@nasa.com it a real address). If anything, pursue your drunken dreams in hopes that it will result in a real (fake) website: http://www.puzzlesthebar.com/

#3: Throw a tailgate in a cemetery:

I actually don’t know if this one is legal or not… use discretion

#4: Lie to your kids… In a good way:

This would probably only apply to the 3 people I know who have young children or are having babies this year (however, if you’re any other of my friends and fancy yourself a bit of a hoe, continue reading… it may be beneficial after all). While unpacking baby Erikson’s room, our favorite parents-to-be happened upon an old book of Marshall’s, Enigmas of the Mystical. Why should children be deprived in the belief that Santa, or the Easter Bunny, or Big Foot actually may exist? Speaking from someone who found out the truth about Santa at age 5 and proceeded to ruin it for the rest of Mrs. DeMartino’s kindergarten class, this is something you want your kids to believe in for as long as they can. Especially Big Foot… imagine how many family camping trips could turn into beachfront getaways if your brood is scared of a wilderness monster!

#4: Oh yeah… stop being fat

Reason I bring this up is twofold: One… I personally look like I ate my weight in wine and meatballs this holiday season. Two… it’s quite evident that this needs to be Lily’s resolution as well. DAYUMM that belly grew overnight. Yeah I get it… there’s a kid in there… blah blah blah; but sister just went from first trimester to third in a nano-second. Is it possible she’s growing a vampire baby ala Bella Swan? You know she’s having Marshall feed her chocolate and lard covered pickles by the dozens.

Good luck to you as you ultimately fail on your quest to look like Cobie Smulders, be as rich and successful as Neil Patrick Harris, and procreate like real life Lily, Alyson Hannigan. But in the meantime, enjoy the Puzzles theme song: