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1/9/5: 4 down, 3 to go This show we are working on has been every bit as painful as it was the last time. Hostboy has failed to improve his game in any way, an astonishing achievement considering he had so much room to grow in every area. The guy is unreal. There is something about him that just ain't right. Like maybe he's a cult member or something.* But he's too inefficient to be in a cult. He'd fail in his cultly duties, the same way he fails on his miserable damn show. Worse than his exceptional array of fuckups is his ridiculous
personality. He has an awful laugh that he uses in an attempt to hide his
nervousness. And when he does a segment of the show without having to start
over, he reacts as if he's just led his team down the field for the winning
touchdown in the Super Bowl. Here are some
-Rock On! On camera and off, he'll boast about how people come up to him on the street after recognizing him from the show. He's also a born-again Christian who brags about his hot sex life with his gross little wife. He also says "copy" or "copy that" whenever one of us says something in his earpiece, and then tells the show guests "that's TV talk." The guy can do it all; he's the Michael Jordan of crappiness. Today (yes, in a cruel insult, we had to tape his show on a Saturday) he plumbed a space darker and lower than I ever would have thought possible for a simple TV host. First, just a little perspective. His show consists of four segments, each about five minutes long. With a normal, somewhat competent host, we will have maybe 2 instances in a show where we will have to start a segment over because shit has gone too far bad to salvage, and then there are maybe 2 more times where we have to do a pickup (That's TV talk!) -- meaning we will have to stop the segment, but instead of starting it over from the top, we will find an edit point, somewhere before the moment it got messed up, where we can "pick up" the action and continue through the end of the segment. On hostboy's show, that 2 and 2 becomes 8 and 8, not counting maybe another 12 times where we start a segment and he fucks up the first sentence he's supposed to say, forcing us to start over immediately. Anyway, today he had a segment in which he maybe only had to start over three times, and then got through without having to redo the whole thing. He didn't do a good job, mind you. He did a VERY BAD JOB. Just not bad enough for us to stop him (we've sort of given up at this point). As soon as we gave him the word that we were moving on to the next segment, that his fuckups hadn't been bad enough to warrant doing the whole thing over again, he let loose with the following: "Who's the man?" You read that right. He said, "Who's the man?" Where can he go from here? "How ya like me now?" "In your face!"? "I am The Wiz"? I don't know if I can take it for three more days. Since I can't imagine he will ever return to the studio for more shows (I don't care who he's blowing or how good his ratings are**), I am offering the winner of today's Geography Photo Quiz an invitation to come down to the studio this week and see the carnage firsthand***. First of all, let's take a step back and acknowledge that the Verbungle.com Geography Photo Quiz is the best verbungle-related internet-based quiz game since the GISG was in its heyday. OK, has that been acknowledged? Good. Anyway, whoever can tell me what airport is seen in the clickable picture at right will get this invitation. It'll probably be on Tuesday or Wednesday. Most likely Wednesday. You can still guess, even if you don't want the prize. Just say something like, "What, are you nuts? I don't want that prize." If nobody gets it, closest guess wins. Bonus points for guessing where it was taken from. If you were present when it was taken, you are ineligible. *** Speaking of appalling celebrity types, I thought I'd give you the scoop and let you know that Mariah Carey's forthcoming album is entitled "The Emancipation of Mimi." I smell multiple Grammies. Or maybe it's something else I smell. *** The only positive to come out of this last week in the studio is that I have discovered a new, relatively secluded bathroom at work where I may go for emergency attacks should it ever become necessary. I say "discovered" in the same sense that Columbus "discovered" America, meaning plenty of other people already knew about it and were enjoying it, but now I've found it and I plan to claim it for my own before slowly destroying it over time. You're lucky that I am really not a work pooper. *** So far, the Verbungle.com Weekend Fiction Extravaganza hasn't managed to produce anything printable. There is still a day left. Check back around 9pm Sunday. Or send something in if you've got it. *** I have included a little empeetrey here from an Australian band called You Am I. They've been around for probably 15 years. I kinda like 'em, although I sorta wish the singer had a stronger voice. But since he's really the whole band, I don't think they're gonna fire him. *Speaking of cults, how despondent and beaten down by life do
you have to be to join a cult at this point? Cults are now like 0 for 50,000 in
terms of being correct in their vision for mankind. You join a cult, it ain't gonna
end so good for you. Except maybe if you're a rich scientologist.
Those guys seem pretty happy. Scary. Inhuman. But happy. |
