Saturday, December 30, 2006

Best of the Boob Tubers

My favorite moments from our storied past six months:

*When Walnuts attacks.

*Manohla Dargis is insane, loves Reno 911.

*A pre-scandal David Langlieb weighs in on which Sex and the City gal John Bolton is.

*A hottie round-up that for once isn't filled with blond film actresses.

*Boy, that Lonelygirl15 craze sure burned out quickly.

*We're still waiting for the Polack mob to come after us. What's wrong, you guys are too dense to find us?

*Jeanette tries to have sex with Christmas...

*...and gets some face time with foreigners instead.

And that was our teletastic year. Standby for our favorite TV moments of 06, likely not to be published until 07 because of intoxication, laziness.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Survivor Cook Islands 12/16/06- A Yul-Tide Celebration!

A few months back, Alanna and I were watching Sexy Beast. The first fifteen minutes of this film are glorious; Gary and his friend, whose character name escapes me, both retired mobsters, live in the Spanish country side, which really looks like heaven on earth. Their awkward tan lines and growing waist lines don't matter at all. That's how happy they are. One night, they go out to dinner with their wives and decide on the calamari before Gary's friend tells him they've been recruited for one last job by Don, the godfather of their crew. What ensues is an emotional mindfuck. For the next two hours, I wondered why the film couldn't have ended in the restaurant, with Gary proclaiming his love for calamari. "I love calamari," he could have said approvingly, leaning his chair back with his heels, patting his gut with one hand and rubbing his disproportionately hot wife's knee with the other. That would have been my kind of movie*.

If you're still with me here, last night the thirteenth season of Survivor ended with a real "I Love Calamari" sputter. First things first, my main man Yul won the million dollars. Hip Hip HorAsian! Secondly, he did so after leading his Aitu Four to the final four. Once there, they all sat around camp, singing folk songs while Becky and Sundra braided each others' 39 days of leg hair growth. Okay not really, but they might as well have...that's how much of a love fest it was. Becky would rather have been true to the foursome than take Yul up on his offer to use the immunity idol to guarantee herself a spot in the final three (that's right, this season THREE people were considered for the million). And the four of them very fairly voted to a tie at the final tribal council, so a tie breaker would determine whether or not Becky or Sundra was in the final three. It was about as melodious as one of those Brady Bunch episodes where the kids suddenly learned they can sing, only to find daisies floating all around them while they danced in bellbottoms.

It was great. You may hear the naysayers arguing that they missed out on the Susan-calling-Richard-Hatch-A-Rat moment, or the Johnny-Fair-Play-feigning-his-grandmother's-death plot twist. They are wrong. How nice to see four people honestly and intelligently make it as far as possible in the game. I bet each and every one of them loves Calamri. And so do I, Aitu final four, so do I.

Also, last night Sekou, the first Survivor voted out this season, graced the audience with an original song he had written about the show. Honestly, it sounded like music accompanied by a string of drawn out farts, which happened to sound a little bit like the word survivor.

*This is actually a very good movie.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

64th Golden Globes Nominations Announced

Find all the television-centric nods here, with the occasional incisive commentary in italics. Apologies for all the caps, I pretty much copied and pasted this from here, where you can also find the film nominees.


24 (FOX)








Really? I love the show and even I can admit the woman has two facial expressions.

Poor man's Renée "Lemon Face" Zellweger.





Especially since he can do teenage girl as well as middle-aged man.


Again? He doesn't really act, so much as yell "Damn it!" into his cell phone repeatedly.







I don't watch any of this sh*t.








I keep hearing that Zach Braff is the "voice of my generation," though really I feel more in tune with the much older and funnier Jew, Larry David. Does that make me weird?













What?!? Someone needs to schedule an intervention and send her to Monarchs Anonymous. OK, that was lame.









I've never even heard of this, but I'm sure he was better than...

Yeah, him.





It's sad to watch her suck the last scrap of life out of this show, because she was so fantastic on Deadwood. Also, dating Cherry Jones. That's cool.






Team Sambo!!!


Wednesday, December 13, 2006

House 12/13/06: Aww, Greggy-poo

Last night's House was perhaps was the most miserable Christmas episode that I have ever seen. Between the detoxing, and the stealing Oxy from a dead guy, and the betrayals and the ultimatums and the sniping, and the really hot dwarf (wait, what?), Bad Hat Harry Productions has left us with almost nothing but negativity to carry us through the dark House-less days until January 9th.

Almost nothing. Because last night's episode provided Jeanette and I with one amazing revelation.

Gregory House has metamorphosed into a teenage girl.

Sure, House was cutting himself because it helped to "release endorphins" that temporarily "relieved his agonizing leg pain" and the "discomfort of detoxing from Vicodin." But any graduate of a suburban high school knows what sort of people really cut themselves, and why:

Angsty adolescent females who want everyone to see the pain they feel inside. The kind of horrible, horrible pain that comes from parents who give you your grandfather's old Buick for your 16th birthday instead of the Audi that your friend Julie got. The intolerable ouchies of a rejection letter from Brown University, which is where you were meant to go, because you worked your upper-middle-class butt off for this and your consolation prize is a SUNY, and SUNY schools are for poor losers!

Ahem. To confirm our suspicions, we received a leak of the teleplay for the next new House. Here's a teaser, exclusive to Boob Tubers readers.



House, our patient is presenting with symptoms of liver failure. Yellow eyes, dark urine, and a strange attraction to old, curmudgeonly men. Oh wait. That last one is a symptom of my personal failure as a human being.

It's clearly Seacrest's Disease.

It's not Seacrest's, I already told you. Seacrest's involves the erratic growth of facial hair in men of short stature.
House, what do you think?


What are you talking about?

You guys act like you know so much, but you really don't. Like, do you know how I lost my virginity?

I don't see how this is relevant to our patient--

I want to know.

It was at the cast party for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. To Ben Kellner, who played Joseph. All the other girls in the chorus were SO JEALOUS.

Uh, why don't we get back to the differential diagnosis.

But I'm so tired. Coach Sweeney made me do twenty laps this morning because I had three latenesses to gym class.

Cuddy enters, dressed very unprofessionally.

How are we doing with the patient?

Ugh, I hate you. I am so fat compared to you.

Well, I don't have a bum leg. I can work out every day.

Oh my God, I can't believe you just said that to me. You're such a bitch.
(begins weeping)
I'm a freak!
(reaches for conveniently located scalpel)

Oh, House. It's time you learned...
Life's not a song
Life isn't bliss
Life is just this
It's living...

Friday, December 08, 2006

Happy Holidays: Viral Video A-Go-Go

Thanks to internet viral videos, even when you're at work, you can be watching TV! As one who fully endorses the watching of TV, and as previously stated, as one who LOVES Christmas, I am proud to present my contribution to the world of viral video. Enjoy!

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Carol of the Remote Controls

I just finished finding the best adhesive for dollar-store lights to stick to pre-war brick, I am desperately trying to schedule a viewing of Home Alone (the world's greatest cinematic tour de force), and Ashley Tisdale's cover of Last Christmas is crawling into my Ipod as we speak. It is safe to say that Alanna was right when she accused me of being gay for Christmas.

I am so gay for Christmas,in fact, that my obvious commercial break channel surf location during Tuesday's episode of Gilmore Girls was ABC to catch snippets of the claymation classic Santa Claus is Comin to Town. Who can forget how a red-headed St. Nick brought joy to the children of Sombertown (who were, by the way, all dressed in gray, I SEE WHAT THEY DID THERE)? Not a lot of people, because 11 million tuned in! Similar numbers are expected for tomorrow night's airing of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman on the eye network. And, of course ABC Family is indulging us with their annual tradition, 25 Days of Christmas. (Although even I must admit that some of the programming offered by the alphabet network's cable child is lackluster, consisting of plot lines like 'A grumpy ad executive reluctant to embrace Christmas suddenly discovers his long lost birth father is Santa Claus and is taken on a magical adventure that cures his son's leukemia'.)

If you want a really crappy example of journalism and a bullshit reason as to why people like me, level headed adults, eat up the cheezefest that is holiday programming, feel free to check out Jennifer Frey's article in today's Washington Post. In it, Frey tells me I like this crap because I am nostalgic for my childhood. OH YES! I LONG FOR MY MIDDLE CHILD WOES DATING BACK TO THE LATE EIGHTIES/EARLY NINETIES! NOT! (Or as Borat would say, I do NOT long for my middle child woes.)

If you just want to know what glorious gems of holiday programming you should set your DVR for and/or advice on how to stick up for yourself when your roommates freak out as you sing every lyric to Even a Miracle Needs a Hand from Twas The Night Before Christmas (the one with that mouse family), turn to me.

Here are my top picks to trim your TV:

The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus (ABC Family, 12/9 11 AM EST, 12/12 7 PM EST) 1985-technology with clay animation tells the story of Santa Claus, heavy on Pagan, not Christian, ideals.

One Magic Christmas (Hallmark, 12/9 7 PM) I LOVE THIS MOVIE! Harry Dean Stanton plays an angel that saves struggling mom Mary Steenburgen's lower middle class Christmas!

Prancer (AMC, 12/10 8 PM, 10:15 PM) Ever wonder what I was like when I was six. THE LITTLE GIRL IN THIS ADORABLE MOVIE!

Friday, December 01, 2006

Green-Colored Spotlight On: Dean Winters

Green-colored because you really can't get any more Irish than this familiar TV actor. You would think that Jeanette would be a more appropriate author for this entry. WRONG you would be. It is a little known fact that this Jewess has dabbled amongst the leprechauns. I just can't help myself. I find both freckles and Catholic guilt very alluring.

Of late, Dean has played affable, slightly dim micks on shows like Rescue Me and 30 Rock. He must be a good sport, because his IMDB profile indicates that he is in fact a well-traveled college graduate and not, for instance, a beeper salesman or Denis Leary's drunk adultering brother.

I first encountered Dean in a very different role, as Ryan O'Reily (seriously) on HBO's prison drama Oz, a show grittier than a sandbox full of broken glass. I learned many things from Ryan: how to manipulate hardened rapists and murderers like a modern day, really cute Iago; how to seduce the Latina prison doctor after having your brother kill her husband; how to survive shootings, gas explosions, and solitary confinement. I should also mention that whenever someone is thrown into solitary confinement on Oz, they are naked. And creator Tom Fontana never shied away from showing us that. Seriously people, what are you waiting for? Netflix that sh*t.

If all that doesn't cement Dean's coolness in your minds, consider this. He was on Law and Order: SVU back in the heady days of the '99/'00 season, and managed in his brief, glorious tenure as Det. Cassidy to nail Olivia Benson. That's something even Chris Meloni (who also starred on Oz) hasn't managed to do.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Dos and Don'ts

Lately, when I think about the show Heroes, I don't think about the schlocky dialogue. I don't think about how Niki got seriously gypped with her "super power," or how in real life, Nathan Petrelli is married to Natalie Maines of The Dixie Chicks, a band that actually titled a song "Lubbock or Leave It." Get it? It's not a bad song actually, but that's gotta be the worst title since The Constant Gardener. Sample lines from that film, at least in my mind:

"Always gardening, you are! By Jove, Manifred, when will you stop the constant gardening?"
"Never, dear Winthrop. My green thumb is eternal. For I am... the Constant Gardener."

No, I think about how Milo Ventimiglia has the stupidest hair on television. The proof is in the arbirtrary asymmetry:

The long-in-the-front, short-in-the-back 'do went out of fashion back in '99, when this chick from my high school, Stephanie, got props for being the "most creative" just because her hair hung in her fucking eyes all the time. Meanwhile, while Stephanie was artfully walking into things because she couldn't see through her HAIR, who was at home writing stories about girls who thought they were metamorphosing into dogs? ME. I SHOULD HAVE WON "MOST CREATIVE" IN THE SENIOR SUPERLATIVES SECTION OF THE YEARBOOK, DAMMIT.

So that's why I hate Milo Ventimiglia's hair. Otherwise, he's pretty cute, in a Guido sort of way. Wait. I take back the "Guido" thing. I don't want all of Bensonhurst crashing this blog and threatening my life. Well, I sort of do.

Other retarded hair cuts:

Flattop-era Will Smith

Keri Russell, whose Season 2 cropped hair was such a blow that it actually made ratings on Felicity go down. Also her ass looks big here.

David Boreanaz, now and forever. ("Angel's lame. His hair goes straight up and he's bloody stupid.")

Friday, November 17, 2006

Daniel Radcliffe is the stupidest human being alive

OK, I know this isn't about television or David Langlieb, but it would be so wrong to let this story pass by.

USA Today published new photos from the upcoming movie, Harry Potter and the E Street Band -- I mean, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Each shot is accompanied by quotes from the cast members, and the titular hero himself offered this little gem of wisdom:

"Harry had been through so much because of him, and yet no one was believing him that Voldemort was back," said Radcliffe. "It made me think of how Holocaust survivors must feel about Holocaust denial."

Yup, he's dead on. A fictional teenage wizard would be devastated by those who didn't take his word about the return of the Dark Lord, as devastated as an Auschwitz survivor would feel if people denied that he'd been robbed of his home, starved, forced to labor outdoors without pay for several years, and witnessed the murder of his entire family. It's pretty much the same thing.

I say we should make ALL our children quit school and get occasional on-set lessons from tutors to movie stars. That brand of education leads to great sound bites!

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Awareness Tubers: UCLA Student Mostafa Tabatabainejad Unfairly Tasered

Ever since Langlieb Gate '06, Alanna and I have marveled about how a jaunt into the world of current events can really up your hit counts. Maybe I should feel a little guilty for bringing this off topic event up here, but when I saw this on YouTube, I was in shock. Plus, I found it on Perez Hilton, and we easily have more substance to our blog than him, so why shouldn't I post this here (not to say I don't enjoy your sass and the way you make it look like there's cum coming out of everyone's mouths in your pictures, Perez).

Anyway, backstory is UCLA student Mostafa Tabatabainejad was studying in the library circa 11:30 PM one night earlier this week, and when he was not able to produce his university ID, the following incident occurred:

Two lessons here. One, don't be a racist asshole, cops included. I can see why the university cops would feel frustrated with their position; whenever one would give me a parking ticket for being in a "Frat Brothers Only" zone or something, I'd usually laugh and yell out "FAKE COPS" as they rolled away on their golf cart. But that doesn't mean you can TASER someone. JESUS CHRIST what were these guys even doing with any weapons. THEY ARE NOT REAL POLICE. I was legitimately touched and happy that the victim's fellow students were telling them to stop and asking for their badge numbers. I hope these guys get demoted to dining hall patrol or something.

Second lesson, someone has a camera everywhere, always. If you do something retarded, there is a huge chance it will end up on YouTube. Just last night, Alanna and Vivian were doing some very vivacious cat impersonations on my bed. If I had a camera, they would have been SCREWED for the rest of their professional lives. Don't be retarded.

Oooh, maybe our racist anonymous commentor of yore will come back in defense of the fake police.

Also, read more here.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Studio 60, House, Nip/Tuck Rootin' Tootin' Roundup

I love working late every night, but I especially love it on nights like tonight, when the cleaning lady looks over my shoulder skeptically as she empties my garbage can, only to see me looking at a clip of Tickle Me Elmo TMX on YouTube. Listen, I don't need her or ANYONE ELSE judging me, especially as I delve into...


Firstly, I am sick of sticking up for the integrity of Studio 60. I feel like it is the new kid in town who also happens to be my cousin, and my grandpa has offered me a shiny, Susan B. Anthony dollar for every time I can get cus a new friend. While I do think last Monday's show was awkward in how hurriedly it wrapped up the Nevada based story line (We hardly knew ya, John Goodman cameo), I still was literally looking forward all week to the conclusion of the two-parter.

Secondly, WOAH, who else is shaking in their pajama pants about what Gregory House's Cop-elganger is going to do to him? The bonds between House and his newfound nemesis strengthened this week as David Morse's character, Michael Tritter, uttered words so familar to House's pursedly narrow yet alluring lips: Everybody lies. They're both right. I bed each night awaiting for Hugh Laurie to be right beside me...what?

And Thirdly, what in tarnation was going on with Nip/Tuck last night? In a ploy so cliché we have seen it as recently as last year's series finale of Will & Grace, we got a glimpse into the future (the future, Conan?) with an episode entitled "Conor McNamara 2026." I was glad to see that the best looking midget ever was still in the picture 20 years later (Oh come on, I dare you to tell me I am the only one to think Peter Dinklage is hot! I mean he's no Matt Roloff but WHATEVER!) Also, I think in order to research the future, Nip/Tuck had their staff writers have a Jetsons marathon (They probably could have done this at my apartment since this is one show that has made it to Vivian's DVRing list). I find it hard to believe that people will be eating meals that consist of piles of multi-colored mush like Sean and Christian were in ONLY 20 YEARS. I can't wait until it actually is 2026 so that the writers can feel the same embarassment as George Orwell's ghost did when the real 1984 actually looked like this:

Also, David Lang...oh nevermind.

Monday, November 13, 2006

I, too, am responding to JJ's tag...

1. Popcorn or candy? If you get the popcorn right, taking part in this buttery delight can be the pinnacle of any movie going experience. I love M&Ms but pesonally think they should be banned from theaters, specifically because once Alanna and I were literally bruised by the airborne treats in response to our HILARIOUS and raucous heckling of Scary Movie.

2. Name a movie you've been meaning to see forever. Dr. Zhivago. However, Alanna and I have both seen Doc Hollywood.

3. You are given the power to recall one Oscar: Both the Juvenile Achievement Oscar given to Mickey Rooney in 1939 and his later awarded Lifetime Achievement Oscar. That guy is a hack. He weirds me out. He's not good at anything other than putting on a newsboy cap and clicking his heels, and on that he's even a little rusty.

4. Steal one costume from a movie for your wardrobe. Chas Tenenbaum's jogging suit.

5. Your favorite film franchise is...soon to be the His Dark Materials films, the first of which (The Golden Compass) is filming now.

6. Invite five movie people over for dinner. Who are they? Why'd you invite them? What do you feed them? I would like to clone Zack Braff four times, have all five Braffs over, and feed them a jello mold that spells out, "Show don't tell."

7. What is the appropriate punishment for people who answer cell phones in the movie theater? Lethal injection.

8. Choose a female bodyguard: Roseanne in She-Devil.

9. What's the scariest thing you've ever seen in a movie? Movie, no. Back to my boob tubers roots in order to answer the Zebo the Clown episode of Are you Afraid of the Dark?

10. Your favorite genre (excluding comedy and drama) is? Mockumentary.

11. You are given the power to greenlight movies at a major studio for one year. How do you wield this power? BRING BACK THE WELL EXECUTED MOVIE MUSICAL!

12. Bonnie or Clyde? Hyde. David Hyde Pierce.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

MeMe, YouYou, PeePee, PooPoo

J.J. of As Little As Possible tagged us Tubers for this fun little meme. Since there's nothing I love writing about more than myself - ahem, I mean entertainment - I thought I'd give it a go.

1. Popcorn or candy? Popcorn is such a cocktease. It smells so excellent, and then when you eat it, it's too dry and gets stuck in your throat, or so buttery and greasy that just looking at it makes you break out. So candy. Junior Mints if possible.

2. Name a movie you've been meaning to see forever. Dr. Strangelove

3. You are given the power to recall one Oscar: Who loses theirs and to whom? My Oscar memory isn't that spectacular; instead of recalling what Meryl won for and when, my brain is filled with amusing quotes from the fifth season of Angel. Example:

Spike busts into Angel's office
Angel: We're having a meeting.
Spike: Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't care.

Which is to say, Crash was totally undeserving. Best Picture should have gone to Buttsex Mountain.

4. Steal one costume from a movie for your wardrobe. Which will it be? Either The Bride's yellow jumpsuit from Kill Bill or Edward Scissorhands' S&M get-up. Maybe a combo of both.

5. Your favorite film franchise is... I have a soft spot for the Christopher Reeve Superman movies, except for the awful, awful fourth one. World peace does not an action movie make.

6. Invite five movie people over for dinner. Who are they? Why'd you invite them? What do you feed them? I'd like to host Klaus Kinski, Christopher Walken, Anne Heche, Stephen Seagal, and Shirley MacLaine to see who comes up with the best plot to take over the world. I'd feed them canned cranberry sauce.

7. What is the appropriate punishment for people who answer cell phones in the movie theater? They should have to listen to Nicole Kidman sing "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend" for eons and eons. That would be torture for me, anyway.

8. Choose a female bodyguard: Ripley from Aliens. Mystique from X-Men. Sarah Connor from Terminator 2. The Bride from Kill Bill. Mace from Strange Days. None of the above. I choose Sybil from the TV movie of the same name.

9. What's the scariest thing you've ever seen in a movie? Of late, it's the fat Armenian dude's testicles in Sacha Baron Cohen's face.

10. Your favorite genre (excluding comedy and drama) is? I must grudgingly admit an affinity for sci-fi. The Fountain trailer, for instance, excites me to no end. Oh, Wolverine.

11. You are given the power to greenlight movies at a major studio for one year. How do you wield this power? By hiring underrated actresses and giving them complex, meaty roles. It's shameful how few interesting parts exist for women, and the ones that do all go to the Aussie Trifecta: Kidman, Watts, Blanchett.

12. Bonnie or Clyde? Bonnie. Clyde's so vain, he probably thinks this blog is about him.

13. Who are you tagging to answer this survey? Lauren of Oodleday, Eric of Confessions, Chris of Exit Stage Left.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Survivor Cook Islands 11/9/06: OMFG!

Wow! Wowee wow wow wow! What a shit show of a Survivor episode! I loved it! You may think Mark Burnett is off his rocker, coming up with the most sensatonal stunts legally possible to get America to watch, and you're probably right, but Survivor grabbed this longtime but now wavering fans by the [hypothetical] balls last night!

Firstly, I almost threw up my delicious, homemade grilled cheese on wheat when Jonathan shared with Candace the prospect of it being the four "caucasians" left at the end. What?! I thought we were over that publicity stunt. I have spent the past few weeks marveling at how race went from being the main issue on Survivor Cook Islandsto being an almost non issue once the tribes merged. People were voted off because they were bat shit crazy (see Cao Boi), not because of the color of their skin. And of course it's a cracker that would keep the racial sentiments around. Perhaps I shouldn't be throwing that term around in light of Langliebgate 06, but I don't care!

AND if Jonathan's temporary posession by William J. Simmons wasn't enough, Jeff "I am second only to Ryan Seacrest in my reality show hosting abilities" Probst threw a curveball (or coconut, if you will) before the rewards challenge; all Survivors had a ten second opportunity to start a 'mutiny' by deciding to switch to the opposing tribe. Candance took him up on this so that she could be back with her BFFEAEAEs Parvati and Adam. BUT, at the last second Jonathan joined her. Good job, Candace, because Survivor is definitely all about making friends and not at all about strategizing to win a million dollars. Also, good job, Jonathan, because Survivor is all about following around a hot, blonde twenty something that wants nothing to do with the modern day Richard Hatch.

It doesn't matter what any of these pawns do, though, because Yul is probably the best human being to have ever walked the planet. Yul for President 2008. He'll be running for the AWESOME party.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Ed Bradley, 65, Loses Battle with Leukemia

According to the Hollywood Reporter,
Veteran "60 Minutes" correspondent Ed Bradley died of leukemia Thursday morning at a New York City hospital. He was 65. CBS News said Thursday morning that Bradley died at Mount Sinai Hospital. Bradley was a correspondent at "60 Minutes" for 26 years, covering a number of the show's biggest stories and winning 19 Emmys during his career. His most recent was for a "60 Minutes" segment on the reopening of the 1950s racial murder of Emmett Till.

This is truly a shame, and Ed will no doubt be missed. I feel like I hardly knew him, but that's probably because I am hardly 60 Minutes' target demographic. Starting today, I will certainly be holding my main man Charles Osgood nearer and dearer, because you just never know.

Also, David Langlieb.


I don't know if you're all aware what has been happening on Comedy Central's Motherload web content/The Colbert Report, but check it out! Tek Jansen! Colbert's very own animated super hero alter ego! I, for one, feel like a bigger douchebag than our embittered/racist anonymous commentor on LangliebGate 06 for not knowing about Tek sooner. His theme song will be my wedding song for sure.

Also, David Langlieb.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

House 11/7/06: House gets real; find the Langliebgate reference!

Last night on House: a comatose 600-pounder comes to the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, and when he awakens he tries to bust out. Problem is, weighing 600 pounds makes him sort of hard to miss. In a very House-esque move, Cameron doses him to keep him in the hospital. He refuses to believe that his illness is connected to his weight, and it turns out he's correct: he has inoperable lung cancer. Sometimes it sucks to be right, huh? Meanwhile, the cop who House previously violated with a rectal thermometer is gunning for our favorite titular character. He searches House's apartment and finds enough Vicodin to keep all of Greenpoint sedated. Ruh roh!

I, for one, am thrilled that the House writers have come up with a credible adversary for our favorite doc. This season had a lackluster start, but with David "I'm so creepy! CREEEEEEEEEPY!" Morse as the cop who's got it in for House, things have been kicked up a few notches.

As much as I love Hugh Laurie and the character he plays, the formulaic nature of the show can get tiresome: it always ends with House brilliantly pulling some brilliant conclusion out of left field, and then brilliantly curing the patient. All while sending a constant stream of insults his or her way. It's like, I get it. He's really good at what he does. Meanwhile, in the back of my mind I'm going, "No doctor can be this much of an asshat, AND publicly addicted to Vicodin, and never get sued, no matter how smart he is."

Well, Mr. CREEEEEEEEEPY! may resolve both of these dilemmas. He confronts House with the legal troubles that would be inevitable in the real world, and he also takes much of the pleasure out of House's medical victories, since in his personal life, Greg's in deep. He may have tied with God in a genius-off, but he ain't infallible. I look forward to the upcoming episodes, especially since tonight's Lost will be the last for many long, cold months.

Also, David Langlieb. I'm just gonna write his name at the end of every entry to get more hits. Why not? All the other blogs are doing it!

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

"Never were words so true." Thoughts on Gilmore Girls and memories from Brian Williams

When I thought of the title for this entry, I was sure that Voltaire, FDR or some other ‘quotent quotable’ amongst the pages of Bartlett’s familiar quotations said the above line. Turns out it is a lyric in the song Home, from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, now in its thirteenth smash year on Broadway, and featuring Donnie Osmond through December 24th. I dare you to judge me. Go ahead. Do it.

Anyhooters, perusing various publications today, I felt as if television related writers were SPEAKING DIRECTLY TO ME. Like they were IN MY HEAD. Like they KNEW ME BETTER THAN ANY OTHER PERSON. Like they were MATT PARKMAN AND I WAS SYLAR. Here’s what I’m talking about.

In her astute article on Gilmore Girls, The NY Times’s Virginia Heffernan offers the best analysis I have heard all season, except for mine. When the WB, Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dan Palladino could not come to contractual terms, the married couple/show helmers jumped ship. With Amy on board, the show’s wit and banter was as sharp as an anonymous commentor’s bite. Or as Heffernan puts it, we saw Lorelai and Rory as they should be:

“In their purest incarnations, Lorelai and Rory shared the witty woman’s challenge: to architect a wall of words so high and so thick that no silence, no stares, no intimations of mortality or even love could penetrate it.”

Now it looks as if Lorelai and Chris are going to get caught up in the romance of Paris. The closest I came to romance in Paris was hooking up with some guy named Jeremiah in a room featuring six bunk beds at the Hotel Calaincourt, whilst reeking of Guinness. And Lorelai and myself are cut from the same cloth. Okay, her cloth is skinnier and better dressed, but nonetheless it is the same. Therefore, I can tell you that a decline into the depths of canoodling and conversation hearts over the course of one summer hiatus is NOT POSSIBLE. Here’s hoping that the coarseness of Luke’s stubble and over starched flannels will soon whip Lorelai back into shape.

Also, in the latest edition of Newsweek, NBC News’ favorite funny man* gives a heartwarming look at his youth’s transition to Technicolor. He shares, “I was, more than any kid I knew, obsessed and fascinated at what television had to offer, and the places it could take me.” The same is true for me, possibly times three. So for all those times my mother told me to switch off the M*A*S*H repeats in favor of some outdoor recreation, I say to her, LOOK AT ME NOW!

*Chris Hansen came in second, specifically for his fine work in blooper reels featuring pedophiles caught with their pants down.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Back to our regularly scheduled programming...Law and Order: Out to Pasture

Staying abreast with current events has really helped our site meter out. So in case you hadn’t heard, this weekend was bad noose for Saddam Hussein. Find me a more reliable source than the Boob Tubers to read about current events and I will give you a million bucks*. We’re like the Daily Show of amateur blogs about television.

But seriously,folks, as Alanna said, back to business as I proudly present the next installment in the Law and Order franchise, Law and Order: Out to Pasture. The grand pappy of all procedural crime shows and its equally successful subsets have created yet a new niche for themselves: the place where personalities that have aged themselves to the B-list go to fade away.

Most notably, last Friday’s installment of Law and Order: Original Recipe featured Chevy Chase in a ripped from the headlines story. Chase played a celebrity who spreads anti-Semitic love (and by love I mean hate) after being arrested for a D.U.I. And also, when pulled over, he’s covered in blood. Chase should be commended for his dramatic acting chops, something only hinted at in Clark Griswold’s scenes as a straight man. However, the L & O: OR writing staff could have benefited from not sleeping through Subtlety 101. As he spouted out lines like “sugartits,” Chase might as well been wearing a Passion of the Christ t-shirt.

Just a week earlier, Law and Order: SVU featured Liza Minelli, in a ripped from the [older] headlines story. Minelli played a Patsy Ramsey-type dealing years later with the murder of her beauty pageant queen daughter. Like most situations these days, Liza appeared to walk through this one in a painkiller induced haze. It’s like her Valium glazed eyes were saying, if mumsy had killed me, at least it would have been some sort of attention.

Earlier this season, Law and Order: SVU was visited by the incomporable Jerry Lewis. Let me tell you, if Emmy watched the first half of the episode before changing to marvel at how puffy James Spader has gotten on Boston Legal, Jerry may have a chance. His portrayal of a catatonic homeless person/potential rapist was so believable it had me saying, “So THAT’S what he does between telethons.” But when it’s revealed Lewis is actually Detective Munch’s uncle, he gets the medication he needs and reverts back into HEY PRETTY LADY mode. And then pushes a perp in the way of an oncoming subway.

In the end, I suppose Law and Order is a better choice than The Surreal Life for fading stars, but if the Peacock wants to hold on to the oh so precious 18 to 49ers with their procedural crime franchise, perhaps they should have gone the CSI route and snatched up Kevin Federline before he was too hot to handle. Or not.

*I will not give you a million bucks.

Declaring the time of death on the Greenpoint scandal

Boy, that escalated quickly!

At this point, I believe I speak for all Boob Tubers when I say it is time to move on from Langliebgate 2006. We've made our stance clear, and so have a multitude of commenters with varying levels of humor and eloquence. The comments section for our last entry has begun to take a nasty turn, so we declare a moratorium on that topic. Feel free to continue leaving your thoughts, but do not expect a repsonse from us.

Oh, and by the way, it looks like there's a totally new thing to be offended by today. Get on that, people!

Please stay tuned as we go back to writing about what we know best, television. Jeanette will be posting shortly about the Law and Order behemoth, and there probably won't be any references to Detective Benson hot on the trail of a Polish crime ring.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Media Tubers: We Break the Silence As One of Our Own is Dragged through Mud

There are only so many Langliebs in the phone book, so if you have deduced that our own resident Sex and the City expert is the same David Langlieb that has been today’s talk of the town, you’re right. For those of you that haven’t heard the news, a satirical article Langlieb wrote accusing gentrification of being a modern day form of colonialism has caused quite the stir within the Polish community, despite its obvious sardonic tone.

Maybe if Langlieb wrote for Condé Nast, the New York Times, or News Corp (well okay, probably not News Corp) he would be fired. But Boob Tubers is no Condé Nast or New York Times! Here, we are staunch protectors of the freedom of speech, and staunch supporters of the death penalty for people incapable of critical reading.

As for the Polish community that is now up in arms, please understand that the Boob Tubers, Langlieb included, have nothing but respect for you. In order to show this respect, we would like to invite any Pole that is willing to share a meal with us. Let’s get together and eat some dead babies. We found a great recipe here in Jonathan Swift’s A Modest Proposal. Wait, what? He didn’t actually want us to eat baby? How can that BE? It’s right there in writing!

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Before your fun size Butterfinger high wears off, I'd like to offer my assessment of Bravo's "Even Scarier Movie Moments" miniseries that aired last night: Zzzzzz...

I was deeply disappointed in this dull, predictable horror movie round-up, because the initial 100 Scariest Movie Moments that I caught a couple years ago was so great. The flicks were assessed by actual horror veterans like John Landis, Stephen King, and Guillermo del Toro, in addition to film experts like Leonard Maltin. (Oh, Leonard. You and your compulsive movie taxonomy.) And random shmandoms like Debbie Matenopoulos offered such color commentary as this response to the eternally great Poltergeist: "Get your kids, get your shit, get the fuck out of the house. That's all I've got to say." Beautiful.

What was best, though, was that the show didn't just cover the traditional Psycho-The Exorcist-Alien type films, though those three ranked quite high. (As a companion piece, check out J.J.'s blog about his tormented relationship with The Exorcist.) No, "100 Scariest" tackled oldies like "Freaks," foreign films like "Audition," and cult hits / obscurities like "An American Werewolf in London," "The Brood," and "The Wicker Man."

The show nspired me to watch "Suspiria," Dario Argento's beautifully bizarre film about a coven that sets up shop in an Italian dance school. Interestingly, last night's lackluster "Even Scarier" shows a clip from "Saw II" in which a girl is forced to jump into a pit of dirty hypodermic needles. Surely this lovely moment owes much to the scene in "Suspiria," in which a young dancer believes she is jumping to safety, but really leaps into a pit of barbed wire.

The original "Scariest Moments" also led to a party which was dubbed CronenFest and took place at my Maryland apartment during my senior year in college. We watched "The Brood," "eXistenZ," and "Crash" (no, not the L.A. race relations version) and enjoyed some distinctly Cronenberg grostequeries.

But last night, we had no outside-the-box selections, no random pop culture ephemera, no insightful commentary. Instead, we got the lame-o Eli Roth (of "Hostel" fame) yammering about how "Dead Alive" is the only film with enough gore to impress him. Wow, good to know. The list included recent semi-hits like "Cabin Fever," "Slither," and "The Grudge" - the American version! For shame, Bravo. You should have just re-aired your original, brilliant clip show.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

House, M.D. has been cancelled!

Just kidding, readers. That was a Halloween trick, if you will, much akin to a traditional suburban egging. Or a hearty BOO! from a sheeted figure waiting around the corner. Or the use of a slit condom, discovered after an All Hallow’s Eve lovemaking session in a shaving cream and pumpkin gut covered alley. Boy was I a cheeky trickster that year!

Instead, I bring up House, M.D. to briefly mention that last Saturday’s episode of SNL was, by far, the best of the season. Sure, first time host Hugh Laurie benefited from the strength of a cold open courtesy of Borat himself. But he also had decades of experience to fall back on, and the entire show was rife with his trademark BBC humoUr. It is beyond imperative that you go here to hear Hugh’s protest song before the Peacock’s internet police make them take it down. (Sorry, Peacock, if it was on SNL’s site or I Tunes, I would have sent them there first and greased your feather covered palm.)

And now, we turn to the other side of today’s most frequently invoked dichotomy for a Halloween TREAT: daytime television’s... COSTUME PALOOZA!

The fun started bright and early this morning, as Today's Matt Lauer and Al Roker got their Jack Sparrow and Davey Jones on. I was really surprised that Matt changed into a suit before his interview with former GE chairman Jack Welch. Sure Jack Sparrow may not scream journalistic integrity, but I thought the pirate's presence during an interview with a former captain of industry re: the current state of our nation's dismal employment sitaution could have taught the housewives of the midwest an important lesson in symbolism. Oprah's book club could have been revolutionized! I was also surprised when Al's face tentacles prevented him from finding his own mouth during a segment on Halloween candy. For a while now, I had believed that doctor's inadvertantly placed a food magnet in Al's stomach, as opposed to the initally requested gastric band.

Only across town, but what I am beginning to believe is a parallel universe, on Live with Regis and Kelly, Regis did his best Howie Mandel while Kelly Ripa was one of the suitcase toting models from Deal or No Deal. At one point, Kelly pretended to speak like a foreigner and have no clue what was going on. HA! Did I say pretended? Unfortunately, couldn't land any images of this shit show, so unlike with the kids plugging books on Reading Rainbow, you actually will have to take my word for it.

Marth Stewart deemed today black cat day. Sure you'd think this might be a tribute to the lure surrounding these mysterious felines, but insiders know this is a tribute to the gang she joined in lock down, the Black Pussies. And boy those lead tattoos must have gone to her head, because in teasers, Martha told us we would be seeing the Pussy Cat Dolls, but all we got were these gals, minus the astonishing Raven.

By the time The View rolled around, you may think that I was costumed out. Quite the contrary, my friends. I was fit as a fiddle and ready to take in the ladies dressed as famous queens throughout history. Take a look here as they interview the reigning queen of rock. Hot topics, however, have never been more disturbing, as guest host Kathie Lee Gifford as Catherine the Great sat stroking a toy horse. WHA WHA WHA WHAT?! If you could ACTUALLY handle horse cock, Kathie, maybe Frank wouldn't have had to rent out Motel 8 rooms for him and the local Applebee's hostess.

If your time was more valuable than mine today and you missed daytime television's COSTUME PALOOZA, but you're still in the mood for a Halloween treat, don't miss tonight's Late Night with Conan O'Brien in skelevision.

And if you're joining the boob tubers for the first time, courtesy of our nod on Cinematical, WELCOME and KEEP READING! Every time we get a hit, a Malawian orphan gets adopted.

Monday, October 30, 2006

"Love makes you do the wacky." --Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Too right you are, Buffy, especially when the love in question is for two dead guys. Today, as part of the brilliantly-themed Vampire Blog-a-thon, sponsored by Nathaniel of The Film Experience, I will tackle the age-old question that has tormented academics and fangirls alike: Angel or Spike? (Or, if you prefer, Tall, Dark, and Forehead or Captain Peroxide?)

I'd just like to see [Angel] grow. Honestly, everything he's done so far I've enjoyed, so there's not really one thing. Maybe, like, golfing or something." --David Boreanaz
There's nothing I love better than one of these completely insane one-liners. Unfortch, Angel the character lacked much of Boreanaz's off-the-wall charisma. In my mind, Angel didn't grow much on Buffy. He had two wildly different states of being, yes: guilt-plagued, brooding good guy and nasty, rage-filled bad guy. The most he could do was flip-flop between those two and occasionally make Buffy cry. Perhaps the problem is that Angel was too much a part of Buffy's central metaphor that became the show's framework in the first few seasons. That is, High School Is Hell. Sometimes you sleep with a guy and he becomes a totally different peson. We all knew Buffy and Angel's relationship was doomed from day one, because so much was set in stone. If Buffy sleeps with Angel, giving him one moment of true contentment, he will revert to the evil Angelus. And in the Buffyverse, as in our world, there's not much hope for a partnership with those kind of sexual high stakes. Once Angel goes from a mopey repenter to Angelus, we've seen everything he can do. (That is, until his spin-off.)

"The truth is, I like this world. You’ve got – the dog racing, Manchester United, and you’ve got people: billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs." --Spike
Spike, however, remained an unpredictable presence for much of the series. Unlike Angel, he didn't have a split personality - no soulless doppelganger. Soulless Spike was not very different from Soul-Having Spike, so there were much fewer rules dictating his behavior. We saw from the beginning that he was a different sort of vampire, cut from a more romantic, Anne Rice-ish mold. The Judge told Spike and his highly irritating girlfriend, Drusilla, that they had too much humanity in them. "Yeah, what of it?" Spike said. Spike never seemed evil so much as a juvenile delinquent in arrested development. He took a manic glee in creating havoc for havoc's sake and had some of the best one-liners ever uttered on television. Unlike Angelus, who was a by-the-book villain, Spike was much more self-aware; he turned the bad guy cliches on their head. He also was incredibly sensitive, even without a soul: see season five's "Fool For Love" to see how quickly Buffy breaks the guy who has "always been bad."

"I love syphilis more than you." --Spike
Sigh. It's no surprise that Buffy should fall for either of these cradle-robbing creatures of the night, despite Angel's massive forehead or the fact that Spike's hair makes his head look like a Q-tip. But Angel is ultimately a eunuch, or the forbidden fruit if you prefer something less emasculating. Angel will always be Buffy's first love, but their relationship is a dead end.

In season four, Spike is rendered impotent by a microchip the Initiative places in his brain; in one episode, in which Buffy and Faith switch bodies, Faith-as-Buffy humiliates him sexually with some vivid dialogue. (I seem to remember "make you pop like champagne" being said at some point.) In season 5, Spike has an epiphany after having an erotic dream about Buffy. Turns out, all that fighting they've done is kind of like third base for Spike. And so begins some of the most perverse sex ever aired on network television. We all thank you, Spike.

Her relationship with Angel forces Buffy to become independent. She discovers when she must kill Angel, that at the end of the day she has only herself to rely on. Spike, on the other hand, forces Buffy into more existential dilemmas about herself, the nature of her job, her baser wants and instincts. And I don't know about you all, but exploring those baser wants and instincts were far more fun than watching Buffy swoon in Angel's arms.

Advantage: Spike.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Sex and the City Pre-Election Day Special

Voters go the polls in two weeks from today, and both houses of Congress are up for grabs. I was reading expert pollster Charlie Cook's website today as I am wont to do around election time and was reminded of Sex and the City.

Cook predicts Democratic takeovers of the House and Senate, an analysis I wish I could agree with. It is true that recent polling looks good. But Cook, like many political analysts in 2002 and 2004, neglects to consider the vastly superior GOP turnout operation - the Repubs know how to get their voters to the polls (I assume it involves promising them free vials of orphan blood or something) and they cheat (a recent gambit involved distributing pamphlets in poor, under-educated precincts in Mississippi that said Republicans should vote on election day while Democrats should vote on November 8th "in order to avoid long lines"). Usually the combination of high turnout and shameless cheating gets Republican candidates 2-5 extra points over what they're polling prior to the actual voting.

Sex and the City ignored a similar gaping political inconsistency sometime back. You may recall the early episodes of Season 3 in which Carrie dated a candidate for City Comptroller (also known as the guy with the urine-in-the-shower fetish - a phenomenon which deserves a blog post in and of itself). She expressed enormous ambivalence about the political process in a conversation with the gals, clearly betraying her as an unregistered voter. Okay. Fast forward to episode 80, "Hop, Skip, and a Week"...Carrie has JURY DUTY! Perhaps Darren Star would like to explain how an unregistered voter gets jury duty. Uh huh...I'm waiting.

Un. Fucking. Believable.

In an age when 15 year old girls are as likely to get excited about civics as Pat Buchanan is about Holocaust reparations, is it any wonder that S&TC can't bother to keep things straight for its target audience? I guess it's all cool as long as the Manolo Blahniks look good. Thanks for ruining democracy, by the way.

I suppose I will one day forgive the writers for this pathetic oversight. But Sarah Jessica Parker - as articulate a spokesperson for abortion rights as any Hollywood A-lister - should know better. She could at least have ad libbed something.

Berger: Are you telling me the guy had a mango in his suitcase?

Carrie: He did! And I'm also telling you that voting is cool!

Berger: Your excitement about the political process has inspired me to not break up with you on a post-it.

Carrie: Let's have sex!


Saturday, October 21, 2006

Vampire Blog-a-Thon: Interview with The Vampire

Brace yourselves, readers, for a blood spattered October 30 blog-a-thon extravaganza! Watch the video above for details and mid-nineties, less-crazy Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt. Mmm.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Alanna's TV Round-Up: Questions for the Day

1. I've just tuned in to the delicious smuttiness that is Nip/Tuck. I know, I'm way behind the curve. But can someone tell me whether they always tie up troublesome plotlines so abruptly? See: The crazy would-be nanny Sean slept with getting hit by a plot device, I mean bus. And Sanaa Latham's husband having a deus ex machina, I mean stroke. I feel the show writers are missing excellent opportunities for blackmail stories. Come on, I want to see the despicable main characters plunging into the deepest shame spirals possible, not getting what they want four episodes into the season.

2. Lost was groovy last night. Anything with Pretty Boy Boone, sweat lodges, and hippie communes cum marijuana factories is fine by me. But are they ripping off Heroes by giving Desmond psychic abilities? And WHEN will we learn how Locke got paralyzed? I've heard a million different theories, including: botched suicide attempt; injured when Hurley made that deck collapse with his powers of fatosity; car accident with Sawyer. This is a question that could easily be answered, and should be. Soon.

3. Do you think Hiro on Heroes is a Sambo character? Vivian does. He certainly has that stereotypical anime character thing going for him, but I think it's tempered by his more sober and slightly sleazy friend. And how cool was that future-Hiro at the end of last episode? Well, just another shocking Heroes ending™.

4. Was anyone surprised that Jeffrey won Project Runway? I mean, even I could see that he was the most talented of the bunch, despite being periodically blinded by his hideos neck-tattoos (necktoos?). YEAH DETROIT!!

Thursday, October 12, 2006


We're none of us Grey's Anatomy fans, but I can't help but take notice at the recent brouhaha on their set. For those of you who are too busy going to the opera or adopting African orphans to pay attention to B-list scuffles, Isaiah Washington tried to choke a bitch -- the bitch in question being Patrick Dempsey.

I can't really speculate as to what this was about, but there's definitely something about Dempsey's mug that makes me want to break out my long-abandoned tae kwan do skills. Look at him - he's smug, simpering, other "s" words. He looks like Sean Penn's goofy little brother. (The one who didn't OD.) And face it, McDreamy fans - that hair is ridiculous.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

They Come Out So You Don't Have To

In honor of National Coming Out Day, we at The Boob Tubers encourage our GLBT visitors to find the courage they need to fly their rainbow flags high... through, of course, the magic of television. Without further ado, my favorite TV queers:

1. Willow & Tara on Buffy the Vampire Slayer
These two were the first lesbian couple to appear on primetime TV. What a difference a few years makes. Willow's metamorphosis from a cutesy, stammering nerd larvae into a big, beautiful, Wiccan lesbian butterfly was one for the ages. The singular Buffy writers made her sexual awakening believable and relatable (except for the being able to float part). And Tara was her sweetie who, despite being a fairly minor character, got a show-stopping number in the Buffy musical, Once More With Feeling. You make me come...plete indeed.

2. Jodie Dallas on Soap
Frankly, I know very little about this character, as I was but a twinkle in my mama's eye when this show aired. But Billy Crystal grew up one town over from me (Strong Island WHAT!) and he played this dude, the first openly gay regular character on an American series.

3. The Fab Five on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy
They're a little past their prime, but they shaped Bravo into the delightfully flamey network it is today. Tim Gunn, you betta recognize!

4. David & Keith on Six Feet Under
That crazy HBO. It wasn't enough for them to have a gay couple, they had to be a gay interracial couple as well! What's next, elaborate fantasy sequences involving the Corpse of the Week and some kind of musical number? I keed, I keed. David and Keith stand out because they were given as much screen time and drama as any other couple on Six Feet Under. They were alternately wretched and adorable, but by the series finale I was convinced they were meant for each other. Granted, whenever I watched the show with my dad he carried on so much you'd think the sight of two men kissing was burning the eyeballs right out of his head. So the social value here is negligible, if my dad is your sample population.

5. Shane on The L Word
This show is pretty much terrible and preposterous, but Katherine Moennig as Shane is the sexiest dirtbag to ever grace television. I want to both wash her hair and make out with her.

6. Rickie Vasquez on My So-Called Life
Rickie is the gay best friend every girl wants to have. He did his makeup with BFFs Rayanne and Angela in the girl's bathroom and secretly, sadly was infatuated with Jordan Catalano. (Who WASN'T?!?) I recently heard a crazy story: actor Wilson Cruz was kicked out of his home for being gay while filming. When his father saw the ironically parallel episode in which Rickie also ends up on the streets, he invited Wilson back home and they reconciled. See, TV does heal all wounds.

7. Mr./Ms. Garrison on South Park
Well, I just made a mockery of this whole list, didn't I?

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Jeanette's Stream of Consciousness, 10/9/06 Studio 60 , Reliving Jay Mohr's Nightmare (it's not waking up each day realizing he's Jay Mohr)

Since my posts are done when I am at work, it's becoming harder and harder for me to write manifestos as we have seen other tubers do, namely regarding Lost. Jesus, I didn't get a word of that. OTHERS? POLAR BEARS? COCONUTS?! WHAT?! WHO IS WITH ME!? ABC, you so crazy.

So here are my television thoughts for Tuesday, October 10th...

I do not understand entertainment trade publications and their need for nicknames. When CBS is referred to solely as the eye, it makes sense. It is easier to say eye than it is to say CBS. The same can be said for NBC being referred to as the peacock. Say them both out which is easier? Why, peacock of course, both for its lack of a third syllable and its tendency to give you the giggles! But calling ABC the alphabet network and its parent company Disney the Mouse House, while cute, does not save breath or trees. It does, however, make any speaker invoking the slang sound just as cool as Ari Gold.

Last night, the second half hour of Studio 60 was magnamulous. I continue to be thrilled to see Evan Handler in a meaty, post Sex and the City role. Last night, Evan's Ricky Beck handled chaos with grace as Dylan (Bradley Whitford) and Matt (Matthew Perry) dealt with plagarism from the writer's room. Simon's (DL Hughley) abnormally funny rant on the Studio 60 version of Weekend Update was reminscent of a piece written much earlier by someone else... In Gasping for Airtime, Jay Mohr recalls a similar incident , where he blatantly steals a bit from Rick Shapiro's stand up. If it is the first month of Studio 60 and we have already seen them deal with this issue, and other predictable live TV show issues such as power outages, where do we stand with plot development, you may ask. I say we still haven't seen Dylan do blow off a hooker's ass, so this show has room to grow!

And also, please don't accuse me of getting on the box full of peacock soap that pays my rent, but feel free to enjoy tomorrow night's premiere of 30 Rock. I have seen the pilot which is certainly better than any 30 minute comedy out there on network TV (Ahem, Two and a Half Craps, eye network). But even if tomorrow's show doesn't 100% strike your fancy, please tune in next week, when the show is supposed to be HILarious.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Lost, 10/4/06: How did The Others get DSL???

This week on the Lost premiere: Jack, Kate, and Sawyer (for love triangle purposes, I'll just call them Skack) are in Otherville, which turns out to be a suburban utopia complete with muffins, book clubs, and high-speed access to Australian autopsy reports. Unfortunately for our protagonists, they're being held in the rough part of town.

Jack's in a 24-esque prison cell, where a cute blond named Juliet quickly breaks him like the pansy with daddy issues that he is.

Sawyer's in a bear cage, where he mostly glowers, quips, and figures out how to get a fish biscuit, but much more slowly than the bears did. Heh. Sawyer's dumber than your average bear.

Kate gets to don a dress and handcuffs for a beachside breakfast with The Artist Formerly Known as Henry Gale. TAFKAHG tells her to enjoy, because the next two weeks are going to be rough. Oh, shit. Two weeks in Lost time is like a full television season in the real world.

The rest of the Losties are nowhere to be found. We still have no idea whether Locke, Desmond, and Mr. Eko are alive after the hatch-splosion. Wait, that's not true. The actors' names are all in the opening credits. Mystery solved. However, I wish episode 3.1 could have tackled at least one question instead of dwelling, once again, on a Jack flashback (Jackback?) in which our hero is so put upon by the world. Sorry, when I consider the tragic backstories of other characters (Locke's dad stole his KIDNEY??? Sawyer witnessed his parents' murder-suicide???) I can't drudge up much sympathy for a self-rigteous jackass with such garden-variety problems as a drunk dad and a cheatin' wife.

Now, I'm not one to complain about Lost's deliberate pacing and cornucopia of mysteries. I enjoy its multilayered WTF-ness; it's what keeps me coming back. However, I agree with one Television Without Pity poster who said that the trouble with the show is that when it does answer questions, it only addresses the whats, never the whys or hows. For example:

Q: What cause the plane to crash?
A: An electromagnetic pulse emitted by the hatch.
Q: But... why? Why did the hatch have world-destroying electromagnetism that was diffused by pushing a button? Who made it so? Now that the hatch exploded, where does the EMP go? How will that effect the island?
A: Shut the fuck up.

My advice to the Lost team: Get crackin' on those whys soon, or you'll soon end up with a X-Files Season 11 mess. Also: Sawyer looks warm in that cage in the middle of the jungle. Maybe he should take his clothes off.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Hugh "BFF of Jeanette and Alanna" Laurie to Host SNL

Sure, we've been bashing SN-Smell and NBC lately, but this news offers a glimmer of hope for the anorexic Saturday Night Live. Unlike most hosts, Hugh Laurie actually has a background in comedy and could theoretically write some of his own material. Is it foolish to hope we'll be spared the typical audience plant, "Oh hey, I didn't know you were British!" opening monologue antics in favour of an actual, you know, monologue? If not, Hugh's one host who I wouldn't mind to see singing instead of making jokes about car accidents (cough*DaneCook*cough). If you haven't ever experienced Hugh Laurie's lyrical stylings, check out season 1, episode two of Jeeves and Wooster. Hidy hidy hidy ho, indeed.

In any case, this calls for a blogtastic countdown to Hugh's SNL gig, which Jeanette and I will be DVR'ing because we're throwing a Halloween party that night. Yes, we're actually forgoing real time television. No, you're not invited.

So check back here throughout the month for Hugh-themed countdowns to October 28, AKA The Day Which Shall Live in Infamy. We'll post our favorite House bon mots, photographs, and whatever else we feel like when we're too lazy to come up with an actual update.


Monday, October 02, 2006

Weekend Round Up, Degrassi, SN-SMELL, Saved by the Smell, Discovery Smell-las (which one doesn’t really work…)

The new season of Degrassi: the Next Generation started Friday night. Let me say it is a good thing that our neighbors to the north are liberal, because when I get picked up for seducing a minor (AKA, Daniel "biceps" Clark), I want to be tried in a bleeding heart court of love. As Dr. Gregory House said, “You can’t stop our love!”

Pictures of Daniel on the Internet are scarse, but that’s probably for the better. I don’t want to end up being interviewed by Dateline’s Chris Hansen with my pants off.

Anyway, I give the premiere four out of five chunks of Gouda, because it was cheese-tastic!

I want nothing more than to love Saturday Night Live. Ever since I was a four-year-old, flat-boobed tuber, watching Nick at Nite, asking my mother what consumption of mass quantities meant, the humor has reached out to me like no actual friends or emotional bonds could.

By the end of the 31st, 2005-2006 season, though, some would argue that it was as if Matt Foley, Motivational Speaker, himself had jumped on top of the show, leaving a pile of kindling (and the remains of Chris Parnell, Horatio Sanz, and Finesse Mitchell’s careers) to be swept up by Jane, the Studio 8H cleaning lady.

I have spent too many early Sunday mornings drunkenly quoting Amy Poehler’s Caitlin to be completely down on season 31, or the show in general. But when you have a weekend update team that is supposed to have more chemistry than Fred and Ginger, and they only get mild chuckles, Lorne Michael’s pulse has probably increased from ‘Canadian’ to ‘concerned.’ I’m not giving up yet, and stay tuned here as I will let you know how the new, streamlined cast is doing…

I’m certainly not breaking the news to blog land that Dustin Diamond, aka Screech of Saved by the Bell fame has had a sex tape leaked. But I am breaking social mores when I out myself and fellow boob tuber Alanna for following his lead. We spent our entire Saturday night giving each other fake dirty sanchezes from unknowing providers of…special moustache paint. Too much?

DVR is waiting for me to watch the first installment of the Discovery Channel’s new series Discovery Atlas. The Discovery Channel and I have had a tight relationship ever since they showed me my first naked boobies that weren’t my mom’s. Now they continue to fascinate me with this installment that will spend two hours simply profiling a different country this week. If you saw it, let me know what you thought of last night’s premiere on China (read: let me know which dog recipe looked best). Italy is featured next Sunday at 9 PM!

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

We Could Be Heroes, if We Weren't So Sloppy With Plot Development

Unlike Jeanette, I am free to trash NBC up and down Broadway (and other popular thoroughfares.) I can tell you that Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip is a self-important snore, a masturbatory tribute to TV-making, fraught with typical Aaron Sorkin non-humor. Example: the cutesy dialogue between Matthew "Oxycontin" Perry and Bradley "Wha...? Zzzz..." Whitford in the second episode, "The Cold Open." Brad asks Matt if he still loves some chick named Harriet, and Matt's like nah, I just appreciate her talent, and her convictions, and her legs. Brad's like, Oh man, you're in trouble, and Matt's like, yeah I know. HILARIOUS RIGHT?

So that blows. And NBC's most popular show still involves people yelling at girls with bad boob jobs to open suitcases. HOWEVER. I caught Heroes the other night, and like the suckiest of suckers, I was sold. The show may rip off X-Men shamelessly with a little bit of Lost thrown in, but it managed to hook me despite some cheese. Let's compare the good with the dairy-based:

* Several genuine moments of surprise. Par example: at the end of the pilot, we learn that a main heroine's father is also the creep pursuing a different protagonist for his possibly revolutionary scientific theories.
* Unpredictable reactions to discovery of superpowers. Por ejemplo: aforementioned cheerleader is appalled to discover she is indestructible. This makes her a socially-unacceptable freak, she reasons. Yeah, because broken bones are the new black.
* Diverse cast includes East Asian, South Asian, and drug addict characters. Oh wait, that's Lost. * OK, we'll let that go because the East Asian character is hilarious!
* And the South Asian is HOT! What's up with me and the subcontinent lately?
* It takes place in New York.
* Ensemble cast guarantees you'll like at least some of them.
* Special effects look quite promising so far. If the show can keep up a hefty budget, viewers have some neat sci-fi tricks to look out for.

* Thus far the show leans heavily on the ever-popular "serendipitous encounters" motif.
* Writers show a propensity for dialogue of the anvils raining from the heavens variety. People, how many workshops do you need before you grasp the "Show, Don't Tell" rule? There are ways to provide backstory that don't involve dialogue like, "Well, good thing I'm a politician and our mom is dead and you were always such a dreamer!"
* Why is everyone's power cool except for the hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold character, who has a terrifying, evil doppelganger? OK, that's not cheesy, but it's a plot wrinkle.
* I mean, this is VERY X-Men. I hope the showrunners decide to wriggle out of the formula a bit. Lost did new and exciting things, like break TV's language barrier and use flashback in innovative ways. Heroes needs to find its own schtick if it plans to stick around.

Or Hugh Jackman could join the cast as Wolverine, in which case I would gladly watch each week. Jeanette says that Hugh Jackman is too fruity to crush on, but come on. Jeanette likes Ewan MacGregor, who starred in two of the queerest films ever made: Moulin Rouge and Velvet Goldmine. He should make a sequel, Velvet Rouge, which concludes with Ewan spontaneously combusting into a pile of glitter and old Liza Minelli CDs.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Jill's in the Dawg Pound!

Sure it's easy to sit back on our Ikea couch that we dragged in from the street, watch tv on a 13 inch screen, and throw occasional insults at the screen in between mouthfuls of the inexpensive, frozen delicacies that make up our dinner hour...and then waste even more time writing about it on the internet. That's why I am proposing that BoobTubers be more proactive about resolving the topics of our kvetching (SP? Help me out, Juden). Starting now, the BoobTubers will bear the burden of finding the FUTURE TALENT OF TELVISION vision vision vision (see what I did there?).

Let's start with a plug for my former co-worker and friend Jill's appearance on yesterday's episode of Martha Stewart. She sang for guest Randy Jackson, in the hopes of being swooped up for the next season of American Idol to save viewers and listeners from travesties like Bucky Covington. Blech.

Anyway, check Jill out! Click the link and go to the first Randy Jackson/spaghetti squash segment. Even if you don't like curly headed crooners, you can learn a great autumnal recipe. MMMM.

Insert George Michael Pun Here

Fox's recent announcement that it will launch a division dedicated to films with Christian themes reveals that the network best known for feeding people cow eyeballs is tapping into a significant but much-overlooked market. We at the Boob Tubers can only hope that this project will be such a success that Fox will also create new TV programming dedicated to the J-Man (that's Jesus, for you uninitiated heathens.) Here are some titles we think would be appropriate for a hypothetical channel that is ALL CHRISTIAN! ALL THE TIME!

* Fear of God Factor
* Hell's Kitchen (Is Where Jews Go When They Die)
* House of the Lord, M.D.
* The JC
* King of the Sacristy
* So You Think You Can Recite Scripture
* Trading Chapels: Meet Your New (and More Ungodly) Sect
* The Passion of the Christ: The Series

Any other shows we might look forward to?

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

The Fifth Character

In the spring of 2005, shortly after I finished my college thesis (which was not, you’ll note, written on Sex and the City) I found enough spare time to immerse myself in S&TC DVD extras. Somewhere in the requisite cast and crew interviews the costume designer argued that New York truly was "the fifth character" in the series.

The implication is that New York framed the show as much as any of the characters. I’ll buy that to a point. But the truth is that New York is a much better character than any of them. It has everything they don’t: nuance, grit, at least one set of size C breasts, and a genuine (if subtle) humility.

If you ask me, the series tragically under-exploited New York (I’m including all five boroughs). For Carrie and the gang, "New York" meant SoHo, the Village, Chelsea, Midtown, and the Uppers. But where was the "Carrie Goes to Brownsville" episode? You don’t think she could’ve had colorful adventures making love at the peak of Fort Tryon Park or getting wasted at the beer garden in Astoria? Tell me Samantha wouldn’t have learned some valuable life lessons from blowing a crack addict in Mott Haven.

On rare occasions when the show deigns to include an outer borough, it is presented as faceless and depressing. Miranda and Steve move to Park Slope without an acknowledgement of the neighborhood’s name. And moving there was presented as some huge compromise for her. Park Slope?! It's Carnegie Hill without the three Hispanic people.

Sorry, but Manhattan snobbery died forty years ago when Manhattan stopped being worth being snobbish about. The city’s intrigue is found on the fringes of the island and in the nooks and crannies of the outer boroughs, where authenticity comes naturally and there’s more to nightlife than $10 mixed drinks and trying to find Kate Hudson playing beer pong.

It has become a cliché to bemoan Manhattan’s abundance of luxury condos and Starbuckses, but that isn’t even really the problem. The problem is that the family-owned coffee shop the Starbucks replaced wasn’t that good to begin with. The ethnic enclaves were always more real and more interesting outside Manhattan. Manhattan had glamour, maybe, but glamour is elusive. Perhaps there have been periods of time in Manhattan’s history when it was genuinely glamorous. This ain’t one of them.

In some ways Sex and the City gets that exactly right. Carrie’s disappointment at the hollowness of club openings and Manhattan’s suffocating insularity comes through from time to time. But mostly we get a fantasy Manhattan, as bubbly and one dimensional as the ladies themselves.

I voted in the Democratic primary yesterday at a cramped, under-funded Brooklyn elementary school. The kids were screaming, and the incompetent poll workers couldn’t find my name in the book even after I pointed to it. But there were free blintzes and coffee available to all. That’s New York as she should be, and it doesn’t take three apple-tinis and a $400 pair of shoes to make her worth the while.

Only the Lonely(girl15)

Many critics have been saying that we are currently in the midst of a golden age of television. (To which I say, And where does Survivor: Third Reich fit into that?) But those well-versed in this Internet I've been hearing so much about know that YouTube is where it's at. And the recent revelation about Lonelygirl15 proves that compelling, new forms of entertainment media are on the rise.

For those of you who don't have the time to creepily fixate on jailbait with video blogs, I'll get you all caught up on the Lonelygirl15 saga. LG15 purports to be Bree, a 16-year-old home-schooled kid. She's bright, fresh-faced, and a little sheltered, carrying on a clandestine romance with her awkward video editor, Daniel. Bree is engaging and believable (though not so believable is the flawless quality of her videos. No camgirl was ever so perfectly lit.) Her family is into some vague religion that creeps Daniel out. Recently, viewers noticed a framed photo of Alistair Crowley in Bree's room that led them to question... could it be Satan???

Little clues like these add to the intrigue, but LG15's sweet, innocent demeanor and overall ridiculous cuteness are what draw thousands of readers to her videos every week. Of course, many suspected that this was an elaborate hoax, and the above article reveals that they were right- sort of. The LG15 project was intended to introduce folks to an episodic version of a movie created by novice filmmakers. These clever guys caught on to the power of YouTube, which has already sent networks scrambling (see NBC frantically pulling SNL skits left and right from the site) and has producer types unnerved about the meteoric rise of home movie appeal among the 18-34 demographic.

And why not? Bree is a character whose everyday mini-dramas young people can relate to (oh, except for that devil worship part). Watching her show is free, and there are no plugs, advertisements, or censors weighing it down (though the nagging sense that Bree is just a promotional tool has turned off some.) With daily videos functioning as amateur, mini soap-operas, Lonelygirl15's episodes seem like something anyone can do - but no one else has yet.

The question is whether viewers will continue to tune in to LG15, now that the jig is up. I'm betting they will, and that other filmmakers will quickly follow suit. It's a highly effective and cheap marketing tool, and the Artist Formerly Known as Bree (actually a Kiwi named Jessica Rose) could easily move to larger screens now, bringing an army a loyal fans with her.

Thursday, September 07, 2006


This Monday, the five year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, CNN Pipeline will air CNN's original television coverage of that day in real time. Anyone else think this is, like, the worst idea ever?

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

House 9/5/06: How Many Times Are They Going to Use That Rolling Stones Song?

Last night on House: The doctor who singlehandedly increased the appearance of the word "curmudgeon" in entertainment mags triplefold appears all healed up from last season's gunshot wound / ketamine coma. See Greg run! See Greg skateboard (badly)! See Greg remain Vicodin's bitch! House and the House-ettes tackle two patients this week, one of whom has scurvy, the other of whom has... brain damage? Addison's disease? Pituitary gland problems? I still don't really know. I do know that Cuddy follows House's hunch and cures the guy, and Wilson doesn't want his BFF to know or his head will get too big. As if House's head could get any bigger.

Oh, the joy that filled our vermin-infested abode last night. Our #1 TV hottie of all time returned to our small (read: 13 inch) screen last night, radiating hotness powerful enough to defeat all the world's mice.

The episode was far from the best House, continuing an awkward season premiere tradition in which the actors wrestle with clunky, exposition-heavy dialogue, as though to say, "Welcome, new viewers! Let me get you all caught up on the 48 episodes you missed! No wait, don't change the channel to 7th Heaven reruns!" It also saw the recycling of the classic tune "You Can't Always Get What You Want" over the ending credits, as though to say "The rights to this cost a fortune! We better milk Mick Jagger for all he's worth! No wait, don't change the channel to Anderson Cooper 360!"

The Patient(s) of the Week plotlines were confusing, but the crux of the episode seemed to be House wrestling with his emotions (or lack thereof.) Now that he's as limber as Christina Aguilera and drug-free, Greggy-poo can't block out all those pesky human feelings with Vicodin. He takes on non-interesting patients because he wants to help, and then becomes so uncomfortable with this that he subjects them to a barrage of painful tests just to spice things up. It's kind of like what would happen if Spock stopped being whatever he was (OK, I never watched Star Trek) only funnier. By episode's end, House is forging Wilson's signature on a prescription for his trusty Vicodin. Must... defeat... the kindness...

Jeanette and I related to this theme perfectly. We both pride ourselves on having no souls (we even have the script memorized for our imaginary program, "The We Have No Souls Show") but of late we've found ourselves inexplicably moved by... well, the types of things ordinary folks find poignant. For instance, we both... cried... over summer reading. It's really weird - is this a hormonal, twenty-something thing? Or delayed reactions after years of repressing things without the aid of prescription drugs, but with the sheer willpower that must wear off at some point?

I hope it doesn't last, for us or for House.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Some thoughts on the television day, 9/5/06

So Rosie's View Debut was today. I have always been a huge fan of Rosie. My mother will tell you how I bullied her into getting tickets to be in the studio audience of The Rosie O'Donnell show as soon as it was physically possible. Even when she seems to be completely bonkers/an insane bitch, there's just something I love about Rosie's ability to keep it real. Let this serve as enough background to prove that I was pulling for her. Anyway, as moderator Rosie may be expected to have more voice than her co-hosts, even the ever-degenerating Baba Wawa. But, in typical Rosie fashion, Rosie couldn't seem to keep her mouth shut, or as she might write on her own blog:

i couldnt shut the
pie hole
got spit in bab's eye
but its just day 1
im still a lesbian mom

Anyway, I can see Ro working out, but I hope she tones it down a bit in the future. I barely heard Joy Behar's voice this episode. And Joy Behar's voice is like a lullaby. A sweet, sweet lullaby to get me through the 11 AM hour.
Boss' nanny out of commission today = boss bringing kids to work = Jeanette using her college degree to babysit = Jeanette's view into the fascinating pop culture world of 4-7 year olds.

What I discovered today was...fascinating. I'm still not quite sure what to make of it and really couldn use your help, blog land. Please enjoy this promotional music video for the Disney Channel's Handy Manny. Despite what the video may tell you, Wilmer Valderama is not only Manny's friend and customer, but also the voice of Manny. Who knew that the logical step in show business went from talking about banging Ashlee Simpson and Mandy Moore on Howard Stern's show to children's television?!

ANNNND Tag, Alanna! Come back soon to see my fellow boob tuber's thoughts on tonight's highly anticipated premiere of House!