I hate chess. Not because I'm stupid (but I still might be). Because chess is boring. Are smart people supposed to like boring things? I've noticed that “smart” characters on television are often depicted as enjoying classical music. And it's always some boring Schubert or Mozart nonsense they listen to. Never any Smetana or Rimsky-Korsakov, and in the rare event that it is, chances are it's Flight of the Bumblebee. Bah, I say. Bah to the Nutcracker Suite and that one part of Barber of Seville, and bah to chess. You might be thinking that since I hate chess, and am stupid, I must love football.


You fool.

Football is even more boring, but it's worse, since it gets a great deal more attention. Vince McMahon isn't going to start any X-Treme Chess League, and Gary Kasparov's never joining forces with Alf to help me make 99 cent calls for up to 20 minutes. And while I can only imagine that enjoying watching chess would generate a great deal of personal shame, people who casually watch football often seem quite proud of it.

Too proud.

Anyone who sees to it that their life revolves around the events leading to that so-called “super-bowl” deserves to be hit by an ice cream truck. In addition, anyone whose life revolves around the television advertisements shown during this bowl filled with super deserves to have an ice cream truck dropped on them. My mother was watching Extra, and it was actually showing previews of the advertisements. ADVERTISEMENTS, I said. Their purpose is to sell you things you wouldn't have purchased otherwise, so you shouldn't want to see them anyway! But to look forward to badly edited, plot-synopted versions is a definite sign of evil. I've been wanting to shoot most people who watch Extra as it was (my mother, being crazy, as I said last time, is exempt), but if they're watching it for that reason, I might not even use the water pistol.

So all that was quite bad enough, worse, in fact, but directly afterwards was Access Hollywood, which was showing the EXACT SAME THING! Never mind that following the bowl of super proportions this plork will be repeating every ten minutes during every show. No! They gots to have the scoop, and they gots to have the scoop now!


The only scoop I want is ice cream; hopefully the contents of that truck are still intact. Ah, good. And it had better not be vanilla. White consumables are gross.

The worst, the worst of all of them, the one that I was supposed to be so looking forward to, the one for which they were showing previews of the preview going into commercial breaks (you'd think Nike, America OnLine, et al would excuse them for integrating it into the programming, but no...) showed the mutant Kelly and Jack “her contract says you have to include me, too” Osbourne transforming into two random Osmonds. Ha ha, see, they both start with “os,” so it's funny. I swear, we are months away from having laugh-tracks on these things. It'll be just like those Scooby Doo episodes, which by no mistake ended up being the least funny of any of them. I honestly never knew The Flintstones was intentional comedy until I saw the studio audience version. I unfortunately can't have any such contented ignorance with regard to the latest celebrity soaked offering, nay, entrustment from Pepsi, not with Pat O'Brien's heliumly pedophilian chuckle cutting in at the end. Ah, the end.