I was watching The Muppets Take Manhattan yesterday, and that quote was just too good to not use as a title for a blog entry. The runner up was "Tamika, how do you feel now that you've just learned that Tyrone is not little Izaiah's (sic) father?" In that case, we should probably quote Mrs. Shirley Q. Liquor who coined (or at least appropriated) the phrase "Who is my baby daddy?"
Anyhow, yesterday was one of those sit around and not do a whole hell of a lot days which I love to have every now and again. I took advantage of the lethargy by watching a lot of television, an unusual pastime for us here at The Jon Blog. I watched an episode and a half of Jerry Springer, most of which involved ugly fat people who I don't even want to imagine having sex, which is what they were complaining about other people doing when they should be doing it with them, and so on...; and an episode of Maury Povich. Maury is basically trying to be Jerry but he's not as smart as Springer is. Maury's episode yesterday was, in fact, cruel. He provided paternity testing for trashy women that weren't sure if he was the father or not. Including Tamika, who had already accused one guy; the guy on this episode was the second. And surprise, he's not the dad, either.
The worst part of the episode was this really cute couple who had a buck-toothed child who might be cute if it weren't for the teeth. They were "the exception to the rule" in the paternity testing episode, because they were afraid that he wasn't the dad. See, she had a one night stand right around the time of conception, but they really hoped he was the dad, because, well, they loved each other, and he loved the kid (who was now three years old) and so on. Well, they opened that envelope and it said, "No, he's not the daddy." And you promptly got to watch a grown man cry on television. Well, he was maybe 19 or 20? But still. It was basically cruel, because you were rooting for him to be the biological father, because it was clear that he had taken the role of the boy's father.
Yes, I get sucked in by brainless television. This is why I try to simply not turn the damn thing on, ever. But I kept watching it yesterday. Seinfeld, then a Comedy Central-fest, featuring two episodes of South Park. Note that their website is not, in fact, www.southpark.com which is the website of some mall. "South Park" is a hysterical show, and I was just laughing out loud, alone in my apartment, drinking a Frappuccino. Have you tried the new Chocolate Malt Creme Frappuccino? I like it a lot.
Anyhow, after "South Park," my gorgeous future husband, Brendan Fraser (and don't go telling me he's straight or married or any of that shit. I don't care) was a guest on some stupid talk show. Then they had my other future husband's show: The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Jon is welcome here as a guest blogger/fiance/sex toy/man of my dreams. Actually, there's really only one potential problem to my marrying Jon Stewart: I hate those couples where they both have the same name. Plus, I don't want to have to register www.thejonandjonblog.com... I mean, registering one web domain is expensive enough!
Posted by Jon at May 1, 2003 11:25 AM | TrackBackexpensive domain? I paid 8 bucks :) hehe.
frappuccinos are awesome. I had lots of them when the chocolate brownie frap came out. mmmm!
I SO HAPPY to have found a soul-mate, of sorts.
At the very least, we have The Metropolitan Opera in common. I do the Saturday matinee series. Do you do NYCO too. Saw a splendid performance of Berlioz BEATRICE ET BENEDICT recently at the Manhatan School of Music on 135th St. The three of us, having driven up, found a crapy place to eat lunch in the area before the Sunday matinee.
A lovely, sunny day, so we walked around the Columbia campus and enjoyed the (half nude male)
architecture on the grass, alas.
Lloyd from the cultural and gay Sahara of the East Coast, Wilmington, Delaware.