I’m a media critic. I can usually tell how good a movie is going to be based on just the trailer. I only made one mistake: Transformers 3 Trailer was awful. The actual movie…an abomination so awful and inhumane that it is not unlike the Rwandan genocide.
Now, there are a ton of movie critics out there, but no one critiques daytime television, and since I’m currently too valuable to be employed, I’ve decided to make my hesitant debut on the Byron City blog with some daytime TV reviews.
This show is literally always on, and even though it’s a great, funny show, you only watch when nothing else is on. It’s made itself TOO available. Scrubs is the best friend who is in love with you but you’re not in love with him.
Scrubs is always there for you, good times and bad. Scrubs listened to you cry for five hours that night you broke up with The Office, and listened to you vent all night when your relationship with LOST got complicated. Scrubs stayed with you even when you were watching him and Family Guy at the same time. You whore.
Scrubs always came back to love and comfort you no matter how bad you treated it. But one day, they’ll take Scrubs off the air, and you’ll miss it, but it will be too late. The only one left to console you in your grief will be South Park, and let’s face it, South Park will never love you.
Women are from Venus, men are from some crazy, god-forsaken ice moon somewhere near a black hole with giant lizard aliens that we haven’t discovered yet.
To prove my point, here’s exhibit A: Deadliest Catch. The guys on this show are so bad-A that each man sleeps on three cots: one for themselves, two for their balls. Men love watching this more than they would love watching women do the same thing in the Caribbean wearing see-through bikinis.
I, too, love this show, and am not sure why. Maybe it has the same affect on men that Sex and the City has on women. Women are drawn to Cosmos, Prada purses, Manolo Blahnik shoes, and stories about complex relationships. Men are naturally drawn to being hairy, never having to shower, smelling like pee, and acting dangerously stupid in deadly-cold water. Who knew that working in such scrotum-shrinking conditions could be so emasculating?
Want proof? After watching an episode for the first time, I looked around and discovered that I had gotten a tattoo, killed a bear, won a bowling trophy, bought a pit bull, spent 7 years in a POW camp, and impregnated every women within a 5 mile radius. So now I have a new favorite show and a nightmarish child support bill. And I smell like pee.
Amarte es mi Pecado
You don’t have to speak Spanish to be entertained by Mexican soap operas. A show like this among English speaking people is like Baywatch was for the Philippines. It’s the universal language of, “Whoa, look at those…”
But with this show, it’s not just the busty women running around a beach in skimpy clothing. It’s also the high-intensity acting. You don’t know why Pedro is angry with Mariana, but in that one scene where he confronts her in the horse stables, you can just FEEL the hatred, jealousy, and hurt burning in their eyes. And when Pedro yells at Mariana, Mariana slaps Pedro, Pedro shakes Mariana, and then the two kiss passionately and fall on a hay stack, you’re not the least bit confused. Why? Because love is the true universal language, and they speak it like Shakespeare.
Also, hatred, jealousy, lust, revenge, and shame are also universal languages, understood clearly when Mariana’s sister Viviana spies on them through a crack in the barn, her face trembling with anger while a single tear falls from her eye. Now try and tell me that you’re NOT weeping like a little girl and willing to cut off your middle toes to see what happens next. Bring a box of Kleenex and warn your neighbors not to be alarmed when they hear you wailing. You’re not possessed by a demon. You’re possessed by love.
That’s it. Now leave me alone.