Action!



Excitement!



Apparent lack of movement!

I continued pseudo-watching while more interested in something computer related I as doing, like this, which sounds like it should be much more boring, because I had convinced myself "ehhh, well, those who you have seen are not the Big Stars. They are not the ones who have been fighting in an ultimate fashion over many years. The ones at the end, the main event, the ones the show is named after, they will fight with all their might." So then after about ten more minutes of commercial break, empty buildup, hallway walks, indescribably lame arena entrances and weight statements by a genuine relative of Michael Buffer, the fight began. And then it was over in less than two minutes, once again far briefer than all things supposedly of subordinate importance. Although the full package was marked to end at 10 pm oclock, since only one fight went the full length (the very first), and surely the folks in charge would make sure there was adequate time available if they knew the maximum length each fight could last, I expected the broadcast to conclude early. It seemed to end pretty much where it said it would, after two hours. Trickey, trickery!

I remember when I first heard about Ultimate Fighting, coincidentally the same period when I first heard about Pokaymon, whose totally imaginary battles are considerably more enjoyable to watch. It was presented to me as not only "real" fights, but "real"ly brutal fights. Just two oafs hitting each other in all possible ways, what oafs do best, fighting and fighting until one no longer can. None of the arcane rules, constant time-outs, dull yet totally abstract goals that make actual sports unwatchable and absolutely baffling to me. Of course that was a lie, but luckily I was able to wait until this started coming on television for free to find that out. The sad (as far as entertainment is concerned) fact about Real Fights™ is that they will either have one person senselessly punching the other over and over again and winning really fast or have both people grappling for a really long time, each trying to get the other into punchable position. A real fight simply cannot be exciting for more than a few seconds, because someone getting legitimately beaten up is in too much pain to fight back, and the one applying the beating knows that. The only way other than invisible tests of strength to draw things out and prevent murders (usually) is to prohibit most attacks and make the ones you allow hurt less. That is called "boxing."

(not actual boxing match)

It does not get more extreme than this. Intensity, thy name is... drat, I can't remember what your name is. I wish you would tell me.

*Well... it did until three days after I mentioned this. Now all the shows are completely different. Bah.

Internet, there may yet be hope for you.

I became aware of this about two days ago. As you may not know or have forgotten, I have a complicated routine of television noticing that I engage in while drawing stupid pictures, because certain programs that I began watching so long ago that I no longer remember why insist on breaking up their interesting portions with boring and/or annoying guests who, despite the scripted nature of their interviews, are typically just as I described them. On this particular occasion the first announced guest was Jennifer "Bride of Chucky" Tilly, who I know from past experience is worst than most people, places or things. As Conan's is the only show of this type that I am contractually obligated to view in its entirety, and this was not that show, I simply turned it off. That should have been the end, but the one I turned on was just about to introduce Kevin Federline, and then I typed the paragraph before this one. After dodging the both of them (people, not paragraphs), of course I'd be too weakened to avoid Nathan Lane on the third show. The whole thing was a conspiracy.

I remember two months ago I was about to emerge from a movie theatre, and it had been showing The Night Listeners, so I was already disappointed enough, when the film stopped rolling and a radio station made its way to the sound system and proudly introduced a Paris Hilton song. That's astounding! There are only 7 people who are allowed to be broadcast per month, and she gets to be one of them based on what? She isn't even related to anyone famous. Can anyone name her parents? They just had money. Paris Hilton is related to a business. She might as well have won on Wheel of Fortune, except that nothing she's done would suggest she has the skill to do so.

I realize it's unfair to dismiss Dr. Federleder before having heard any of his product, even if it seems like the right thing to do, but I do not need another egotistical rapper in my life. I don't even need one person who is either of those things. I'm totally through with both. Whether he's "good" or isn't, advance press, and that he has any despite having done nothing prior of note is part of the reason I presume he's egotistical, brings me the other part. You'll never silence your critics by recording harshly worded response albums, because that's one of the things I criticize people for doing.

I thought the whole thing was another one of those pointless, bred to be trendy gimmick ads like the Budweiser "Wluzzzaaaahhhhh!" dipes, but I found out eventually, purely by accident, that the doof who couldn't say "yo" was not an actor, was playing himself, was named "Yao," and was saying his name. Ah ha. That's also stupid. He wasn't responding to the greeting, he was attempting to correct it, because he was sure the attendant recognized him, stupid arrogant lukewuff. I hate when ads try to be popular by using celebrities, especially when they use someone I don't recognize (and in this case who the other characters don't recognize), because they'd never choose someone they didn't think everyone would recognize, which means it's probably an American Idol contestant or Nascar driver or Osmond or something like that. This one, I'm told, is a basketball player. 'Ey! Not everyone watches basketball! This particular participant wasn't even wearing basketball clothing, so this means I would have had to be paying really close attention, and why would I do that? I was already giving it more perception than it was entitled to by not having MUTE mode on. Crispix, I doubt Mr. Yao is on every basketball team, so even if I liked that kind of thing I might not know. I am very knowledgable of the ways that I am ignorant!

I truly did overhear a human be quite impressed with the awful ad, gleefully wrapping up with "...because you couldn't not know who that is!" I DIDN'T! I DID NOT KNOW! AND I WISH I STILL DIDN'T! One thing I thankfully still do not know is what was meant to be sold. Ha ha, ho, you spent all that money hiring people I'm supposed to recognize outside their usual contexts and buying 80 airings per day and you didn't even achieve brand recognition! Ha ha ha!

To be fair, however, not that they'd ever reciprocate my fairness, I also hate when I do recognize a celebrity, or if the ad tells me who it is. This is Eels Macinstrudel, a Geico customer. Eels is not an actor. And neither is Verne "Mini "one notable role in 1998" Me" Troyer, but here he is anyway, probably being a complete twit. I think Verne Troiuer or whatever should have a fight-to-the-death with Kathie Griffin and then whoever wins should be denied medical attention. I can imagine an extensive tournament of such fights. Flavor Flave, Fat Guy From the Sopranos, Little Whiny Guy Formerly of Sopranos, Andy Dick, Jennifer Tillya, sure, whoever's available. Considering the sorts of shows these people are typically seen on, I'm guessing they are. We may even be able to reuse promotional material from Celebrity Poker Hoedown for this. It won't stop Robin Williams, but I question whether a gaggle of land mines would stop Robin Williams. Bicentennial Man was not all fiction.

I wish I could say this was something I'd written up a long time ago, and so have one less of those lingering around, but it all came out just now, because I suddenly remembered how mad it made me. Stop making me mad!

Overheard, by me, in the vicinity of restrooms:
"-made me realize how bad I had to pee!"
"I gotta piss like a goddamn fuckin racehorse."
Note to someone: That there is not me saying those words. That is me quoting another human. That doesn't count. It does make me wonder why a horse would need to engage in both racing and fornicating to get an agitated bladder after being forsaken by a god. They don't make deities like they used to, I guess.

There are two ways to get in trouble at a bowling place. The first is to do something that violates an unstated rule but that makes a lot of people highly amused. The other way is to do something that violates an unstated rule but makes no one laugh. The second case is what I specialize at, in all places. If you've ever seen me on an internet message board, you know it, except off the internet it often doesn't make me laugh, either. I'm definitely in someone's "disgruntled employee" livejournal now.

I did not play well. I was not expecting to, but for some reason it still made me a bit mad. Yes, I was throwing the ball strangely, but my reasoning was -or at least I have since convinced myself it was in the absence of any memory of having planned it- is that it's no fun to miss if you play the game properly. At least if I do it in an unusual way, I will have done that much. There were at least three times I threw the ball the normal way, and when those missed it made me slightly more mad. In the end, I won 31 points out of a possible much larger number.

I only hope I have not misread the source material, and the accusations were actually of Koreans being flushed down toilets. That would be ridiculous and easily dismissible. They don't fit through the pipes.

Still, this is an example of understandable nepotism. Unlike Cakefed Spears, this Hogan is a direct relative, and was bred from a long time ago to be an overexposed yet indistinguishable billionaire blemish. She planned a recording career. Anyone legitimate merely hopes for one, and lists that second after artistic fulfillment. Brooke Hogan, on her fifteenth birthday recieved a box with an actual recording career inside it and a pony.
Her father (Brooke's, not the pony's, as far as I am aware) needed to pay the Marvel Comics people to use his own name. That's how famous he is. Wanting to pass that on is understandable, for the economical sake of getting maximum use of a purchase, and for the other economical sake of getting loads of money because people will buy things just because they are endorsed by a famous person, or made by a person endorsed by a famous person, and them both being named Hogan makes it harder to not notice. Think of Hulk Hogan like Oprah Winfrey (even if Oprah took more steroids) and Brook Hogan like Dr. Phil McGraw, except instead of McGraw her name is also Winfrey. I reckon her productions are of comparable quality, since she's as much a Hogan as Phil is a doctor. Yes, and they probably sing equally well, too.