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Michael Phelps is Not Funny

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Yes, friends, fall is upon us. Because there is very little in the way of autumnal coloring in California, one of my favorite parts of fall is new tv! So exciting! And we’re back, with the SNL recapping and our friend Michael Phelps. Before I turn on the Tivo…I have to say, I have been trying really hard to avoid coverage of the Tina-Fey-as-Palin, Amy P.-as-Hillary sketch, because I want to be surprised. We’ll see. Oh, and I have huge, huge doubts as to the hilarity of Michael Phelps, despite his abs that I want to eat brunch off of.

(Note: turns out Tivo didn’t record it—wtf—and I am having to use our DirecTV dvr to watch this. This dvr is le suck.)

We begin with “A Nonpartisan Message from Governor Sarah Palin and Senator Hillary Clinton.” Yay! Tina Fey+Amy Poehler=awesome. I’ve paused it, and “Hillary” looks bored. Can’t wait to hear Tina Fey do that godawful accent, with its flattened and horrific vowels. Also, sexism? Is not the reason we hate you, Sarah Palin. We hate you because you are a Big Fat Idiot. What’s a flirge? Ooh, I would love to see Sarah Palin side-hug Hillary, and watch Hillary punch her in the throat. No, no one else? Ok, it lived up to the play it got on the internets…I am satisfied.

Same cast as last season? Huh. Ok. A couple new featured players, maybe? Nah, just this Bobby guy. And Casey Wilson, whose face I always recognize but whose name always escapes me. Thanks, Don Pardo.

Michael Phelps, monologue. Can I just say, he reminds me a lot of my younger brother? About the same age, kinda tall and goofy… But I am still willing to bet the bro-ham is funnier. Yes, Michael Phelps, the gauntlet has been thrown. At least you dressed up for this. Hee hee, Amy P. is playing his mom, who I think is totally adorable. She’s a middle school principal, too, which means that she is a big damn deal. “Swim Cop.” Not funny. Will Forte in a Members Only jacket offers to have MP endorse My First Meth Lab, “a product [Michael Phelps] should not endorse.” Duh. OMG SHATNER!!! Teaches MP a lesson about integrity…and Priceline, an online travel site that I have never found that useful (Travelocity/Expedia/Kayak 4-eva!). Ahhhh, the real Debbie Phelps! So cute. Wow, I am totally glad that others saved the monologue, because he could NOT carry that thing.

I officially want to see Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist. Am I hip enough to do that?

Michael Phelps wears a swim cap to beckon us into “Quiz Bowl,” where there are people barking like dogs within fifteen seconds. Terrifying. Also scary? The wigs. The joke here is that home-schooled fundamentalists don’t know about sex, physics, biology, or dinosaurs. Regular public-schooled kids aren’t that hot either. Ohh, America. Kristen Wiig steals the show, awesomely. However, this sketch is the lame.

Commercial about how hard jars are to open! Sucks. I mean, come on.

Yay! Will Forte takes another star turn as a high school swim coach. (Remember the Peyton Manning episode?) “Fudged my Speedo”? Poor showing, Michael Phelps. I hope there will be singing at some point…and a cassette tape makes an appearance. Yessss! Forte fixes his mustache and the song plays, a little muzak, and everyone manages to mostly keep their shit together as Will Forte performs Balki’s Dance of Joy. Phelps joins him, but is still wearing his warmups/tracksuit. I’ll give it a B-

I hope Ghost Town isn’t going to be as bad as it looks, because I really only want the best for Ricky Gervais.

Now that’s more like it! Hot Olympian with Laurels Michael Phelps brings us back to the show. What am I, made of stone? Something is wrong with the boss’s kids. Phelps as cousin Jeremy is in headgear, and together he and Kristen Wiig twitch their way through the French for numbers one through ten. It is strange, y’all. There is the display of a yodeling doll, and Phelps does some five-pound bicep curls, which are the highlight of this crapass sketch. I don’t want to be so negative about the season premiere of one of my favorite shows…but come on! I want some more Tina Fey or something.

Leonardo diCaprio with a neck beard? Not ok. But maybe Body of Lies won’t totally suck. Nah, it probably will. Miracle at St. Anna, though? I will probably need to see that. Woo, Spike Lee!

Li’l Wayne. Wearing those sunglasses that old people wear, all angle-y and wraparound. I am not cool enough to like this, not at 10:30am on a Friday morning.

I want to punch the movie Beverly Hills Chihuahua in it’s bulging-eyed head. Sorry for the violent threats, but tell me you disagree.

Weekend Update! The highlights: Sarah Palin sucks, OJ is finally going to go to prison forever and ever (finally), Russell Crowe and Snoop Dogg are friends, who knew? Larry Craig doesn’t understand what entering a “guilty” plea means, despite being a freaking lawyer. Online mating databases for zoo animals (hilarious shot of a tiger sitting at a laptop), Nicholas Fehn comes and craps all over comedy. Cabbage Patch kids are 25 years old now (really? I am old), a bird called New Jersey 911, Seth Myers adorably celebrates a sort of lame joke. Andy Samberg is Cathy, of comic strip fame, and I think Rachel Dratch could do it better—what’s she up to these days?

Anyone seen Burn After Reading? I love me some Coen Brothers.

Charles Barkley’s talk show…with our friend Darrly Hammond as Bela Karolyi, who is probably completely insane. Michael Phelps gets to play himself, which is a relief. My little sweet potato is a hell of a swimmer, but not much of an actor.

Family dinner, with that obnoxious T-Mobile commercial where the daughter has hot friends. Dad, that is gross. I am happy to see the “aftermath” of this commercial.

Digital short! Andy Samberg in a white wig, somewhere in space/the future. This song could be by Styx, and is about the Space Olympics in 3022. It is not as awesome as you think it might be.

Aww, Amy Poehler is pregnant. This is the first time we’ve seen any hint of the belly this evening. She and Michael Phelps are on a date at a place like Friday’s or something, and our new featured player is acting much like I imagine regular Friday’s servers do. He fidgets with his do-rag, and I worry about the flammability of his Dragonball-Z shirt.

Um, friends? I heard there was to be some Barack Obama in this episode. There are only 15 minutes left. Where is he???

Li’l Wayne has at least two pairs of sunglasses. This means that he is a true baller, no? Well, Li’l Wayne, I have no fewer than four pairs of sunglasses on my console table right now. It would seem that we have more in common than I thought.

Woo, the Michael Phelps diet! I wish I had crazy Michael Phelps-ian muscles, but I worry about what they would look like in my wedding dress. And Jared Fogel even makes an appearance! It is a rough life for Jared these days, I’m sure.

Okay, the episode is over. And I saw no such Obama. Shame on you, SNL. Did I just miss it, internets? Help a girl out here!


Thank God for the beef

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I read somewhere a long time ago that that is roughly what Shia LaBoeuf’s name means, and I am a bit jealous because Megan Elise Lastname? Doesn’t mean a darn thing, probably because lastname is some mashup of multiple generations of slutty ancestors adapting their names to their new language. Anyway, on to the show– it is Tuesday night, so I assume the more responsible of you have already gotten it out of your Tivos…

Our cold open this week is Hillary C. as the President, or in a message “brought to you by the President.” Superdelegates, blah blah. I am bummed that the primaries are going on so long, but I am hopeful about the outcome, come November. Oh, and Hillary will be a great president because she is a “sore loser,” her “supporters are racist” (I damn near died after she said this), and she “has no ethical standards”– apparently they are having to back up the fact that they are not Hillary-biased, after having portrayed her more favorably earlier this season. The strange thing is, I am sure that they will make fun of whoever ends up winning, and whoever ultimately becomes President in the fall (cough Obama cough).

Monologue. Please, baby Jesus, no singing! That is all I ask. Shia LaBoeuf (who, if you must know, I have loved ever since the Even Stevens days) looks like quite the hipster, in his gray jeans and blazer and shit-ton of hair-product. The pants fit a bit oddly, and it leads me to believe that he may be wearing an adult diaper– I’m just sayin’. Oh, and he hosted before? I suppose I blocked that out, due to my hatred of the Dear Sister sketch. Not a fan. But I am an Indiana Jones fan! Dude, he and James Bond were totally my prepubescent crushes; what can I say, I love a Man of Adventure. Highlights: Sean Connery (oh, I miss you, Celebrity Jeopardy!) shows, and is greatly chagrined to have been left off the Last Crusade lunchbox, and then Amy P. is Short Round (whatever happened to that kid?).

Ugh, MacGruber. Now with added Son of MacGruber! Unfortunately, there is little added humor, though there is a trio of awesome wigs. Oh, and Son of Mac Gruber is gay.

It’s a Match, with Guy Lang! But Guy Lang has been murdered, and the six ’70s celebrities are left to make references to a game show that is significantly older than Shia LaBoeuf. While “making whoopie” is only marginally humorous, Fred Armisen does a killer Paul Lynde. Also, great wig work.

Mercifully, there is a commercial break. Guys, I am totally going to see Crystal Skull, and none of you can stop me! It is probably going to be lame, but my love for Indiana Jones knows few bounds…

Yellow-jacketed LaBoeuf beckons us into the 16th Precinct, where three Game Stop shoplifters are being given a stern warning by a Scared Straight Kenan Thompson. They stand up, sit back down, and repeat, and it is about as funny as it sounds… Also, Bill Hader, a Stussy t-shirt? That is straight retro biznass. Oh, and a Goonies rehash. Just how old is LaBoeuf, anyway? I am a cranky old lady today. My back hurts from the elliptical, I don’t know why.

MacGruber, again. I am having a hard time getting it up for this episode. I would so rather be watching crazy wedding programming.

But! Next week! Steve Carrell and Usher! I can’t wait to see Get Smart. How much do I love Anne Hathaway and want to eat ice cream sundaes with her? The answer is “a lot.”

Ok, we are into bulleted-list territory. Here’s the quick and dirty version of the rest of the episode:
Suze Orman Show. Crazy jacket, and where the hell is my stimulus check?
Digital Short. LaBoeuf and Samberg are talkin’ pantsless fashion in a locker room. Would this really be any more ridiculous than most guys usually look? At least it would be pretty funny, because, come on, naked dudes are pretty funny-looking.
– I watched My Morning Jacket perform, just for you, Jenn. They are pretty great, and totally not what I was expecting. SNL has been bringing the Pretty Sweet Music recently, what with the Vampire Weekend performance earlier this season and all…
Weekend Update, which GP hilariously referred to as “the news.” Always my favorite part of the episode.
La Rivista della Televisione, where Bill Hader smokes a lot and I realize how tall Shia LaBoeuf is. Damn, kid!
– Another g-d MacGruber. There is kiss-vomiting, or vomit-kissing, or whatever. It is gross, and I don’t like it one bit.
Awkward Glances Across a Restaurant. So, I am not someone who gets many glances in restaurants (or Safeway, or the gym, or Starbucks, or whatever), but I imagine that it is about this awkward. What’s up with that? I guess I would prefer staring to having to talk to them, though…because I am a Total Bitch.
– Again with My Morning Jacket. Loving it.
Exaggerated Southerners try on clashing patterns. “Funky” is rarely something to aspire to, folks. But there is totally a shout-out to Decatur! Represent! Shia LaBoeuf, by the way, looks like your confused little brother, raiding your closet and trying on your pinkest dress. And now I understand the True Meaning of “Bless his heart.”

Ashton Kutcher hosts SNL; or, I Wish I Could Have Kept on Forgetting

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Oh, you guys. I was thinking that the Ashton Kutcher/Gnarls Barkley SNL was next weekend, so I went about my usual Sunday and up-until-now-on Monday business, ignorant of my lack of recap duties. Thanks to Tivo, however, everything is ok—I am home from work, have posted the obligatory shoe picture, have rotated all the coasters on the coffee table precisely 40 degrees clockwise, and am ready to roll! (Note: OCD tendencies exaggerated for effect)

So, Ashton Kutcher. I am not among the population of Women of a Certain Age who find him terribly dreamy; in fact, until recently, I have found him pretty annoying and basically repellent. Anyone seen Punk’d? Yeah, me too. Hated every freaking second of it. Seriously, I would rather have had bamboo shoots slid underneath my fingernails than watch his lame ass pop into the frame, screaming at some celebrity or other. Luckily, the days of both the production and airing of Punk’d (I will kindly ignore the egregious misspelling of the title, I think it’s supposed to be “hip” or something. Who knows, with the kids these days) have ceased, and Mr. Kutcher has married Demi Moore and they lead a quiet, Kabbalah-centered life in which he takes short breaks to tell Elle about the sex conversations they have with Demi’s children. Gross. And while he had his moments on That 70’s Show, I was always much more of a fan of Topher Grace and the guy who played Red, than I was of Kelso. The point here is, I am scared, terrified of what Ashton will end up doing to/on SNL. I am hoping for a Target Lady sketch, and I am afraid the days of Deep House Dish have passed (which makes me sad, because “Ooh wee, T’Shane!” had become one of the favorite catchphrases of the GP/MS household, mainly the MS part). Let’s see what you’ve got, Ashton Kutcher.

Cold open: C-SPAN upcoming programming includes “Think-Tank Nerds discuss some topic no one cares about,” followed by “questions from even nerdier audience members.” Sounds like a winner. Please let there be some Ashton Kutcher in glasses! Because you know that that means he’s a nerd. Ok, so it’s the testimony of David Petraeus, played by Will Forte. I believe the French (and my ever-profane father) would call this a “clusterfuck.” Petraeus and MCain (Darrell Hammond) talk about the “goals” that have been “met” in Iraq, and it’s more depressing than funny—especially given the actual “progress” that’s happened. Amy P. as Hillary C. lies that she opposed the war from the beginning, and even since 1970, and I cry a little inside and think of Tuzla. Oh, and for all interested parties, the Iraqi National Museum of Antiquities will remain in Iraq, not moved to Wheeling, West Virginia, where there is ample parking and an Applebee’s. Petraeus gets a little starstruck by Obama, who will be the next president (I know, right?)—Fred Armisen’s impression leaves me a little cold, because he has the cadence and everything down right, but something about the accent is off. I am as bored by this sketch as I am by regular C-SPAN.

Enter Ashton, doing some air guitar in a way that makes me want to dry-gulch him. Hard. He is wearing a scarf, and it’s his third time hosting SNL?!?! What. The. Hell. Well, I do love me some Beauty and the Geek. He’s talking about producing, and it is now my dream that Lorne Michaels comes out and gives him a wet willie. It doesn’t happen. Demi Moore shows up instead, and why isn’t she hosting? I would prefer that, I think. The writers won’t let him in—let me say again that I am in hardcore l-o-v-e with the SNL writing staff. Haha, the “joke” is that everyone hates Ashton Kutcher. That is hilarious. I fake-fake hate him, too! The funniest part of this “monologue” is when Andy Samberg asks Kenan Thompson if he has any weed (a staple of good comedy), to which Kenan responds that he might, after the “light [in the camera] goes off.” Best part, mostly because Ashton Kutcher wasn’t present—GP, who is “working” on his thesis, agrees.

There is some bullshit movie coming out with Cameron Diaz and Ashton Kutcher, which I imagine is a pure distillation of all my most-hated celebrities in film form. If only it were created by the writers of such gems as White Chicks, the Scary Movie franchise, and [Insert Random Genre Here] Movie franchise. Can you believe the same guys did all that? I mean, the “Let’s put together some marginally humorous lines from other successful movies and call it a parody! Is Carmen Electra available? Who am I kidding, she always is…” school of film writing and directing is what’s keeping our kids addicted to drugs, I’m fairly sure. (Sorry for the vitriol—my blood is just all angried up now)

The Cougar Den. Hmm, I wonder if this is where we will see Demi Moore. I will vote “yes.” There is a lot of age-inappropriate clothing, on Deirdre (Amy P.), Jacqeline (Kristen W.), and Toni (Casey W.) as they talk about seeing shitty movies with their young boyfriends, followed by “blowjoys” (“It’s certainly not a job!” Gross). Kiki DiAmore, who is fucking goddamn Cameron Diaz with her big stupid mouth and complete lack of talent shows up, wearing a curious blend of animal prints, and shaking her stupid, skinny, no-hipped ass. I scream. Seriously, you guys, I screamed in the study. It was inappropriate study behavior, but I had to do it. I need warning if she’s going to be on my television. I gather my strength to get through the rest of the sketch…Cameron D. has a Charo accent and some enormous bra inserts. The “breasts” outperform her. Girl, I have seen Charo on The Surreal Life, and you are no Charo. Charo would cuchi-cuchi you into oblivion. Also, let it be known that you can do Kegels while talking—no break necessary! I could be doing them now, you’d never know. Ashton blands around in some tennis whites and a headband…and it is an express, one-way ticket to Lametown.

May 10th, Shia LaBoeuf and My Morning Jacket. I love me some LaBoeuf, and have never heard of the band. You guys are pretty hip—what do we know about them?

Cowboy Ashton, who I would at least like to make “dance” by shooting at the ground near his feet (too mean? I submit that it is not!), brings us into a sketch where Kenan is the bouncer at a velvet-rope club that I swear is either called “Tat City” or “Fat City.” Please, please let it be Fat City! Kenan is hesitant to let Ashton (playing himself, really showing his comic range) into the club. Various lamewads are let in, and Ashton is not, despite name-dropping himself. In principle, I love this sketch. There was too much Kutcher, though.

The Andy Samberg Love Machine (here, as Clementine) brings us “Daquiri Girl,” a charming tune that has a text scroll in the foreground about how there was a major musician signed up to do a new Digital Short, and bailed. Whatever, I give “Daquiri Girl” a solid C+.

Activia Yogurt Lady (Amy P.) and Ashton Kutcher are excited to meet Jamie Lee Curtis, who is crazy about Activia yogurt. They are all very jokey about JLC keeping her top on, and I am here to tell you that we do not need to see any naked older ladies around here. Also, this is ostensibly a commercial about a yogurt that makes you poo. Neeeeext.

Gnarls Barkley. Bleep-bloop. I dig your rockabilly hair, Cee-Lo. Also, Danger Mouse on piano? Holla!

Weekend Update! Yay! Rumsfeld gave the Bush Administration a “List of Horribles,” which they have succeeded brilliantly in…accomplishing. American Airlines cancelled a shitload of flights, but luckily not the one that my friends had to be on for a wedding in OKC this weekend (that second part is not reported, however). Tips on air travel from Kristen Wiig as Judy Grimes—we learn that she is probably on some above-therapeutic level of uppers, and is also “just kidding.” It is not very funny. NYPD will be steroid testing, High School Musical 4 is in the works, and Charlton Heston is dead. Nicholas Fehn appears for some political “comedy,” which is quite reminiscent of the FREE! COMEDY! SHOWS! that happened every Monday night at a bar near the UCLA campus. The headliner was often the bang-your-head-against-a-wall, smash-your-pinky-toe-with-a-hammer, completely unfunny Godfrey. That is all you need to know.

Ashton Kutcher…giving a piggyback ride to himself, leads into the Dudes Meeting Up in a Bar For Some Domestic Beer. The jukebox plays “Amy,” they share varying degrees of humorous anecdotes, then bust out with some sweet Village People costumes when “YMCA” comes on.

A chocolate bar sneaks up on a bum who is digging through the trash, then stabs him and runs away. “Death by Chocolate.” I am…scared? Confused? Not. Laughing.

The Mellow Show
, with our host Jack Johnson (of course it is Andy Samberg, with bare feet, a douchey man-necklace, and an acoustic guitar) from the sunny shores of Oahu. Dave Matthews (Bill Heder) shows up, and they talk mellow stuff for awhile, each with a stranger speaking voice than the other. John Mayer (Ashton) arrives, and they poorly harmonize “introducing ourselves” pretty poorly. Can I please point out here that pot-smoking does not a mellow guy or gal make? Because some people do flip the hell out when they have puffed the magic dragon. Just sayin’.

More Death by Chocolate. Do. Not. Want.

More Gnarls Barkley. I am not in touch with What the Kids Like.

More Western wear from Ashton Kutcher, and we are at The Rusty Pony, which is a gross name for a strip club. The Gilded Lily, maybe? That sounds so nice and exotic and feminine! When I open the Gilded Lily, all real-friend and blog-friend lapdances will be half off—those poor girls have to make a living somehow! Drinks will be on me, though. Grown men, drinking shots of Jager? Mmm, maybe not. Oh, and also, it turns out The Rusty Pony is a. A quadriplegic young lady comes out and is assisted with her erotic dance routine—it seems opera-length gloves are hard to remove when one can’t move one’s arms or legs. Also, do strippers always do a running commentary? This does not even count as Dirty Talk. Rhinestone bustiers and a fringed jumpsuit make this sketch a candidate for the Best of the Episode.

Bearded Andy looks for his chainsaw, and we see what is hopefully the end of Death By Chocolate.

Sweet Jesus, it’s over. I’ll see you in a few weeks, where I am hoping we will get to see a redux of Even Stevens. Woo, original Disney programming!

Walken does SNL

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This is definitely the SNL that I have been anticipating the most anxiously since the show returned post-writer’s strike. Why? Well…Christopher Walken is a fantastic host. I’m not sure what it is, but his constant deadpan that brought such wonders as The Continental and the More Cowbell Guy always makes me laugh until I have to pause the Tivo to catch my breath. In short, I have high hopes for this show. We’ll see how that turns out. Oh! Also. Panic! At the Disco is the musical guest, and I like them, too—mostly for their crazy-long song titles and the wordy, narrative singing style. What’s not to love?

(P.S. This recap may be brought to you courtesy of motion sickness, thanks to the super-sweet Dr. Dean Edell reading glasses that I’m wearing so that I can see the computer clearly—I left my “real” glasses at work, and have to peer over the Dr. Deans in order to get a good look at the tv. This will be…interesting.)

Cold open: a Hillary for President sketch. Bill (yay, Darrell Hammond) and Hillary sit in a regal sitting room, talking about their tax returns, which were recently released to the public. We know they’re rich…meh. Also, we know that Bill likes to “talk to people. Nothing more.” Haha, they concealed the fact that they were rich, by hiding in their house in Westchester. Oh wait, everyone knew they had made money, any cursory glance over newspapers would show that. I guess that’s the point. Not a particularly funny point, but one nonetheless. I do, however, love that the word “psyche” is used—as in “Psyche! Not gonna happen.”

Monologue. It may not be Christopher Walken’s 100th time hosting, but dude, he’s been on a fair amount of times. He fields “questions” (that he, admittedly, wrote himself) from the “audience” (writers). We learn that he would rather have both the powers of invisibility and flight. Really, who wouldn’t? You know, the more I see Christopher Walken, the more appreciative I am of the impression that Kevin Pollak does of him. Dead on, seriously. This is a lame monologue. Sorry, Chris.

“Commercial” for Annuale, which we saw earlier this season, on the Tina Fey episode. It’s funny, but I suppose my issue is that, in reality, no one has a “real” period while they’re on birth control—it’s a fake period that was put in so that women wouldn’t freak out when they never got their periods while on the pil. It suppresses ovulation, which means that there is no need for there to be uterine lining and hence no need for a pesky period (note: I am not a doctor. I really have very little idea how the pill really works, but I am damn glad it does.) Also, why are they bleeping when Tina Fey tells us to “Hold the F onto [our hats]”? It’s like bleeping “frickin.” Just saying.

The ouside of a…school? Yes! North Side High School, where Christopher Walken is putting our friends Bill, Andy, Kenan, and Jason through their paces before the Big School Musical (note: Zac Efron is nowhere to be seen, thank you Baby Jesus). CW notes that he is “a drama teacher, not David Blaine.” Thank Baby Jesus for that, too, while you’re at it. Amy Poehler is an accompanist who wears silly Dame Edna glasses, which we love, along with a frizzy bun. They rehearse the original Broadway version of “Greased Lightning,” which is, in fact, a pretty dirty song, but it is cleaned up when they substitute “fleam” for “cream” and “phlox, phlox, phlox” for “get off my rocks.” And then they make the whole song about Gene Rayburn. Good job, team. This business continues on, and is truly reminiscient of an actual musical rehearsal that can be witnessed at any high school, ever. Only there would probably be more wailing and gnashing of teeth, because those Drama Kids? They are nuts.

Red, White, and Blue Biker Walken brings us into an office celebration for Jason Sudeikis, complete with a round of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” They dig into the grocery store sheet cake, and he is presented with a Starbucks card, because he looooves Ethos Water (who the hell don’t? The kids in Africa need water, dammit). Walken and JS share an awkward moment of recollection of memories of several simultaneous “number 1”s, which is more memorable for Walken than for Jason. This conversation takes place entirely inside The Awkward Tent, which is brought to you compliments of my friend H, who also created a hand signal for those times when you can’t verbalize just how Awkward! a situation is. Walken culminates with a bit of “I’ll Be Seeing You” and a tongue in the ear. Delicious.

SNL Digital Short! Bill Hader and Amdy Samberg apprach Lorne (and Chris Dodd!) in a restaurant about a new short, insert a VHS tape, and…it’s Laser Cats! Again! Woooo! Well, technically it’s about Laser Cats being prohibited, and is entitled “Laser Cats! 3D* (*not all scenes in 3D)” Captain Ted (played by CW, who else?) calls them to base, and they arrive wielding their Laser Cats (only one of these cats is real, sadly. It also does not seem to enjoy being used as a weapon. Not by Andy Samberg, anyway). They begin to attempt to euthanize their Laser Cats (with a gun and a hammer! Not cool), but then realize they must use them as weapons to defend Earth. Of course. There is a 3-D scene, with a cutaway of Lorne and Dodd wearing 3D glasses, and then a revelation of a Laser Pug! Awesome. It’s a Laser Puppy, really, and is too adorable for words as it scrambles around on the tile floor. Andy saves the day with his new bionic eye, and the world is returned to safety. Also, the line of ladies who want to make out with Andy gets even longer, now that he is a True American Hero.

Director’s Chair Walken waves us in to a living room, where there is…an intervention? No, a surprise party planning session. Kristen Wiig, in a Cosby sweater, is way too excited about this party. Apparently this is the funny part. I respectfully disagree.

Panic! At the Disco. Enjoy, y’all. There is apparently a new album out called Pretty Odd, so go get it! They’re fun.

Weekend Update! I have to interrupt here and say that I saw Seth Meyers on The Martha Stewart Show earlier this week (I know, Martha and I were in a fight, but it’s Cupcake Week and I couldn’t stay mad at her), and he is adorable. Let it be heretofore known that I want to share an ice cream sundae with Seth Meyers, and then skip around a park or something, or at least have him push me on the swings. He is totally the lime in my G&T. Love! Stories include: Hillary Clinton is rich, the Olympic torch is now on a trip around the world, Bush is in no way a small-government Republican (I guess no one really likes him anymore, right? Please tell me I’m right. Or I will cry.), and there is a pregnant man. Have you all heard about this? So insane. Maybe I should start to Tivo Oprah, too. Oh, and he called the baby a “little ho.” Not cool. Madonna criticizes NYC and no one cares that much, 6-15 year old girls are hunting in record numbers, a new therapy in Germany involves laying in open graves (effectively “out-German”-ing itself), pot-bellies are linked to dementia, and New York might double its cigarette tax (and, seriously, people will still buy them? Horrifying).

Walken on a Pink Chair leads into Sweet Waters, where a reunion is taking place between Walken (playing himself) and Stanley (Bill Hader playing a version of Walken). They take turns trying out out-Walken each other, and are joined by John (Jason Sudeikis), who is pretty Walken-y as well. Maxine (Amy P.) and Scott (Andy S.!) are Walken kids, and everyone continues to speak with strange accents and cadence. Scott is sort of Holden Caulfield, calling peope “phony.” Can we vote to bring back that word, please? Flamboyantly gay Nathan (Fred Armisen) arrives…and I am worn out. I like Walken, I think he’s entertaining, but can we have The Continental instead? Bleep-bloop.

There is a bird on the head of Walken, and I am officially alarmed. Birds? I am not a fan. They are for eating only. Oh, and for donating feathers for blankets and such. Thanks, birds, for being delicious! Anyway. We have “Indoor Gardening Tips From a Man Who’s Very Scared of Plants.” Hm. We shall see, SNL. We shall see. There are cactuses (cacti, please!) with googly eyes on them. It is about as funny as it sounds. There are googly eyes on ferns, too. Not great. Oh! Speaking of phobias, GP and most members of his immediate family have a fear of plants, mostly big plants that are really branchy or leafy. I learned this on a trip to the Botanical Gardens at Golden Gate Park, and proceeded to exploit it by leaning into many prehistoric leaf clusters while they tried to drag me away. That was probably a little mean…but I am mean sometimes. It’s important that you know this. (P.S. This sketch? Is lame.)

A Baby Mama trailer! I can’t believe that it’s real. I’m probably going to see it, because I love Tina Fey and all…but I expect very little. You’d better bring it, Tina!

Pensive Walken beckons us into a Top Chef sketch. See, here’s the thing: that show is often a parody of itself, so I am concerned that this will be…redundant? Seriously. They did do a deep-dish pizza Quick Fire Challenge. It ended sillily (is that a word? It should be), and was more funny than this lameass sketch. At least there are faux-hawks. Bleep-bloop.

Woo! A commercial for new episodes of The Office and 30 Rock! Can. Not. Wait.

More Panic! It’s an older song, but I love the pizzicato. Also, I love the word “pizzicato.”

Larry King Live with Jimmy Carter (Fred Armisen and Darrell Hammond). Jimmy Carter wrote a book about his mom. I’m sure it’s ok. Not ok? The attempted humor here. Jimmy Carter has written many books. He is Southern. Fin.

All in all? Maybe a B-. Thanks, Tivo!

Monday is the new Saturday

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Cold open: Eliot Spitzer, with his poor wife standing by his side. I can’t say anything about the situation that hasn’t already been said, so I will leave it at seriously, Eliot Spitzer? And, seriously, America? Are we surprised that a politician ended up being a hypocrite? Because certainly this cannot be the first time this has happened. “I am, at this point, incapable of embarrassment.” Probably not far off, or at least one can hope. The premise here is that he is going to become a private-practice lawyer who specializes in particularly “lurid, embarrassing sex scandals,” such as “gay bathhouse slip and fall,” “defective masturbation device,” “customs seizure of German porn,” “botched erotic asphyxiation,” “denial of reach-around,” or the worst-case scenario, the “dead hooker.” Nice open, and for the first time in the last four weeks, not a Barack and/or Hillary-related sketch.

Please, baby Jesus, don’t let Jonah Hill sing during his monologue… Look, I enjoyed Knocked Up (which I saw with a former boss, who was still my boss at the time…it was a fun and strange Friday night) and Super Bad, but not as much as I’m sure many others did, so I’m interested to see what Jonah Hill does within the confines of the show. I know that I express concern over the abilities of comedians to perform in this setting, but the truth is that I feel that many of the show’s best recent hosts have not been comedians. I do firmly believe that it’s a tougher milieu (and that I seem pretentious for using that word, but I assure you I’m doing so correctly) than film or regular television—there’s less time to prepare, less time to react, and you have to possess that sixth sense that allows you to refrain from cracking up or looking into the camera (I’m looking at you, Jimmy Fallon). Anyway. Jonah Hill looks a little stumpy in this getup…jeans, a black t-shirt, an open button-down, and…a suit jacket? Yeah, I don’t know, either. He is cute as he says that he’s so excited to be there, that it’s “literally the most amazing moment in [his] entire life,” which I’ll let slide because it seems genuine. He calls himself a fancy gentleman, and I feel a song coming on. As long as there is a top hat or cane involved, we might be all right. He does say the words “top hat,” but I don’t know how I feel about his “underpantsies.” There are four guys in tops and tails behind him, and the lyrics to the song are pretty hilarious. Well played, Jonah Hill.

MacGruber, a MacGyver takeoff that is hit-or-miss for me. I give this one an A-, mostly because of the wigs and the brevity.

Game show! What’s Your Situation, hosted by Lou Delhomme (JH). Apparently the show’s title comes from the follow-up question asked to every (female) contestant—“What’s your situation? Are you married, single, dating…?” The married contestant is sent packing, and the host is that creepy guy in the bar ordering you a Sex on the Beach when you really want a Jack and Ginger. I’m all for free alcohol, but seriously guys, let the ladies order. This sketch is pretty short, too, and I’m wondering if this will be indicative of the rest of the show—really quick pacing, but I sort of like it because it’s not belaboring any unfunny premises or jokes.

JH in glasses and a clenched fist that looks more ready to knock on a door rather than punch bring us back from commercial, to a Benihana! Which is really just an okay place to eat—the eye contact and shared seating are really off-putting for me, and the last time we went we were seated across from this couple that consisted of a douchebag on his cell phone talking about “cabbing it to San Fran” (ugh, kill me—never call it “San Fran,” or “Frisco,” for that matter) and his poor lady friend. Within Benihana we find a pair of guys and a pair of girls—JH is Bill Heder’s 6-year-old son, trying to get his dad some action and coming across like a sportscaster version of Woody Allen performing at a Catskills resort. Oop, is Jonah going to laugh in this one? Nah, he’s holding it together, and talking crazy loudly…much like an actual 6-year-old, with slightly better comic timing and many more nebbishy tendencies.

Aaand, another damned MacGruber. Boo.

OMG!!!1!!!!!@!@1 April 5th, Christopher Walken and Panic! At The Disco. Love, love, love! Does that mean two weeks off, though? Aw. Totally worth it, though.

Jonah and his so-classy-that-he-got-a-tattoo-of-it-on-his-finger mustache segue into The Suze Orman Show. Bear with me, folks, all I know of Suze Orman is that she is a former Oprah protégé (like Dr. Phil, and we know how well that’s going), and is sometimes on the Today show (from which, you will remember, I am taking a break). Rockin’ some animal prints and a sassy Midwestern accent, along with some weird vocal phrasing. The “Can I afford it?” segment begins, and I guess that we’re supposed to infer that she’s a lesbian…? Huh, ok. She tells a rich guy to go to Epcot rather than Europe, and…meh. Although I will certainly be trying to incorporate the phrase “full-tilt dumbass” into my daily lexicon, for sure.

SNL Digital Short! Andy Samberg is being measured for a ringmaster’s jacket when Jonah hill enters in a funny little hat (it’s not that funny, but he doesn’t have a “hat” head), inviting Andy Samberg to coffee. JH apparently met Andy’s family after the show “last week” (note to the observant: Andy’s dad is Jack Handey!), and has been seeing Andy’s dad since. They went to grab a beer, got to talking, and then made out, which is about as attractive as you think it might be. Andy is, understandably, “really not cool with this,” but Jonah believes it’s love. There is an implied fellatio at some point. Ben, the dad, enters and kisses cheeks and ruffles hair, and then Bill Hader enters, revealing that he and Andy’s dad have also been “f**king.” Thanks, Lorne Michaels…definitely the best digital short that’s been on in the last three weeks.

Mariah Carey. Bleep-bloop.

Weekend Update! Bwa-hah, the whistle blower was having his whistle blown! Nice. CA passed some new regulations for home schoolers, there are tons of drugs in water, and we get a Really!?! With Seth and Amy segment! Sweet. Probably at least as good as the Michael Vick one. Ugh, would Mitt Romney really run as McCain’s running mate? He seems so…sleazy. I know this seems incongruous, as he is a Mormon and all, but he seems so greasy and disingenuous. China was removed from a Department of State list of human rights abusers, giving me my very own Really!?! moment, and 1 in 4 teenage girls has an STD, which I will choose to blame on abstinence-only sex education and limited safe-sex resources for teenagers. Am I right? Maybe. I know that there are other factors, such as earlier and earlier sexualization of kids and shifts in how families communicate and operate as units, but ultimately someone has to be teaching these kids what to do, and having sex as a teenage doesn’t have to mean anything but a deep sense of regret and some stories about speeding away from one’s boyfriend’s house, clutching one’s bra…not that I know anyone who had to do that or anything. Tracy Morgan comes to talk about Barack Obama being “reminded” that he’s black by Geraldine Ferraro, saying that we are a racist country, which I can’t say I disagree with. It’s not overt, and it’s not everywhere, but it’s there and it’s complicated and Tracy Morgan is much more coherent here than I expected him to be. “Bitch may be the new black, but black is the new president, bitch.” Love it.

Yay! A Target-lady sketch! So, this is only sort of a recurring character for Kristen Wiig, but it’s so bizarre that I love it. Almost as much as I love Target. Target lady has a strange temporary amnesia thing that erases her math skills, and is excited when a customer reminds her that she’s at Target. Kenan Thompson comes by and asks if he can pay for his items, to which she replies, “I don’t know—can you?” If I were a teacher, I would be doing this sort of thing endlessly. This is why it’s probably best that I am going to be a librarian: fewer opportunities to inflict proper grammar on the children. A cardboard cutout of Isaac Mizrahi appears, but only fleetingly, and Will Forte comes by to exchange some sweatpants for 99 cent (!) Nilla Wafers—after KW suggests he take the ill-fitting pants to a tailor. Pure gold, I tell you!

Will Forte is Brian Williams—who played Brian Williams last week? I could have sworn it was someone else. Oh well. We learn that John McCain is old. We know this! Seriously, is he not close to the age Bob Dole was when he ran for president? And everyone was flipping out about Dole’s age! Why the exception here? Not that this is a disqualifier, the fact that he’s old, but I would like some equal treatment. If we want some disqualifiers, I’ll…not be getting into that here or now. Mmm, Megan no likey.

Unrelated, but I feel that it is my duty to share it with the interwebs: a commercial for Old Navy reminded me of my quite-successful trip there yesterday, where I bought, among other things, a new pair of jeans (that is a size smaller than I’ve been wearing recently and reveals no butt-cleavage!), a new bathing suit (a tankini that I didn’t try on until I was home, due to unfortunate lighting conditions in dressing rooms), and this fabulous “bathing suit cover-up” that I will instead be taking many naps in—or at least that’s what happened Sunday afternoon on my couch. At any rate, get thee to Old Navy! At the very least, you’re getting some crazy-cheap tank tops, and god knows every girl needs about forty-seven of those.

Jonah Hill in a bolo tie is an old-timey record producer pimping out country singers…and proceeds to laugh a bit as he discusses the songs. This is pretty bad. Spaceships, toddlers, Model T cars, and jars of beer? Was this a Mad Lib? Do. Not. Want.

Mariah Carey. You know the drill.

Jonah Hill and what’s-her-name are on a date after “talking online for so long,” and right away I am on guard. You must know that GP and I met through the torrid world of the Craigslist personals, he the new guy in town who could spell and punctuate properly, and I the local gal who knew the limits of her nonexistent social circle. Most online dating is ridiculous, but I like to think that it just makes us extra-lucky…also, in his posting, he did mention that if things went well, I had to be willing to lie about how we met. And yet, here I am. Not lying at all. Jonah Hill loves the smell of burnt meat, and had claimed that he was a personal trainer, proving that either this girl was quite the idiot or he was quite the smooth talker/typist. Oh, and he drives a PT Cruiser, which has inspired a new version of the “Slug bug” game between me and GP. Totally fun to play—you have to try it!

Overall? Well-played, Jonah Hill. Let’s have some beers sometime.

Entrenched, or A Story of My Saturday

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It would seem that I am incapable of breaking my “an entire week behind the SNL episode that she’s recapping” habit, yet I submit to you that it is not true! Sure, today is the Saturday following the last new airing of SNL (and tonight will be yet another live show– Lorne Michaels, why do you do this to me?), but I am thinking that we’re just going to power right through this, ok? Today is mostly devoted to watching college basketball, but I’ve got the DVR set up to capture my Bruins’ eventual Pac-10 tournament win, and am ready to go on with the recapping! Oh, and I have to go to work today for about two hours, which is officially The Lame. Because this Conference-USA game is boooring (come on Tulsa, let’s admit that you don’t have a snowball’s chance against Memphis and be done with it), I am headed to The Tivo Lair for some good old sketch comedy! (And probably the new episode of Whose Wedding is it Anyway?, but we will not be recapping that, mmkay?)

Ok, this week we have Amy Adams and Vampire weekend. Let the recapping begin! (I also just narrowly missed dropping the remote into my cup of tea, which is easier to do than you might thing, and would probably have led to the demise of my relationship. Phew.) Our cold open is Amy Poehler as Hillary Clinton, approving an “unfair and deceptive message.” Could it be a red phone parody? Probably. (And oh, P.S., that is a ridiculously fear-mongering ad, one that I would have thought HC was above. I have a hard time watching it all the way through without some sort of outburst. And I really like her!) Since I’m bad at being prompt with the relaying of weekly hilarity, I’ve seen most of this sketch on clip shows and whatnot– pretty solid. Amy Poehler can do little to no wrong.

I must say before I watch the monologue, I have loved Amy Adams since Drop Dead Gorgeous, which I would watch just about every day on Starz! after school during my junior year of high school. Starz! likes to show the same movies, at the same time, for at least a month at a time. I now own that dvd, and can recite every line of dialogue, with varying degrees of success with a Minnesotan accent. Okay, so…cute dress, but I have a feeling that it’s actually more interesting than it films. Kristen Wiig doesn’t really look that similar to AA, so let’s move on. Damn! We’re back into the place where allll SNL monologues are sung. I do not like this place, but at least Amy Adams is a decent singer (did we not see her sing at the Oscars? Pretty cute.)

ABC Family, even “less offensive” than regular ABC. (Although let me please note that I am regularly offended by most facets of Seventh Heaven. Noted.) “Mirror Image,” there are twins who pretend to be one person, apparently because they are horribly lazy. Sounds like a good plan to me…but a potentially lame sketch. Also, one of the twins is fat, which I guess is a wrench in their plans. The acting here is actually slightly better than on most ABC Family shows. Sorry, ABC Family! I still love your 25 days of Christmas!

Nest week: Jonah Hill and Janet Jackson. Nice. I look forward to recapping this within the next 24 hours! Really. Oh, and can someone tell me if it would be foolish to go see Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day? I do like me some Frances McDormand!

A vampy Amy Adams leads us into the next sketch, in which she is a therapist to Amy Poehler and Will Forte. Amy P. is pretty slouchy, and also more than a tad foreign. Would couples therapy be fun, or an endless tedium of “how do you feel about that?”s? Could it be any worse than watching this? We get it, Amy Poehler, you’re good at this Bulgarian (?) accent. Very nice. Amy Adams, that’s quite the necklace. And Will Forte, nice…merino sweater? Whatever.

SNL Digital Short! Rain falls, and someone pours a drink, which is unfair because, hello? It’s not even 10am here! This is why the recaps should be closer to “live.” Andy Samberg looks like something out of American Psycho, singing what sounds like it could be a Flight of the Conchords song. Andy Samberg is a superhero, in a pretty baggy suit, singing this song…and getting beaten up by a mugger. For fun, I counted the times that Jason Sudeikis punches him– it’s 54. Then he has a mailbox thrown at him, and is hit once with a 2×4 for effect.

Faux Bravo commercial, “the newest makeover show.” This better be that Project Runway sketch that I’ve been hearing about and trying not to watch! Amy Poehler is an awesome Christian Siriano, saying “hot tranny mess” within the first thirty seconds. Awesome! I wish that Fierce: The Hot Mess Make-Over Show were real! The sifting through the “fashion victim’s” clothes reminds me of a certain seen-by-everyone (right? Because it’s pretty great) YouTube phenomenon. I wonder how hard that Christian wig was to make. Also, would it not be wonderful if the actual Christian (or Tim Gunn!) were to show up?

Vampire Weekend. They are pretty cute, and I enjoy their music. Thanks, SNL, for keeping me hip despite my sometimes-agoraphobic tendencies.

Weekend Update! I found out in the past week that Seth Myers is now the show’s head writer, which is not surprising, but did make me feel a little pang of…pride? Because I really enjoy Seth Myers. Okay, moving on. We learn that Hillary Clinton is not a monster, GWB is accepting donations for a library (in his name? Let’s not get me started), “Hey Hillary, How are you going to be Ready On Day One if it takes you thirty-one primaries to get warmed up?,” Charlie Crist is a rumored McCain running-mate? If she doesn’t know about it already, a certain friend of mine will be crazy mad about this– she spent the year after her college graduation in Florida campaigning for one of Crist’s opponents. Clearly, the opponent lost, and she is now in law school, forever hating Charlie Crist. Bwah ha! Senator Tim Calhoun. Always so strange, thanks, Will Forte. John McCain is old, German soldiers are fat, and there’s a robot/water cannon that chases away drug dealers from a bar in Atlanta. Can I please go see this robot during my upcoming Trip To The South? Amy Poehler manages to say the words “elf defense” with a straight face when talking about a tiny gun, and pops open one of those champagne-confetti things. Well, played, Amy P. The rest? Unremarkable, and I’m guessing not the most exciting to read.

Fallen Ballerina Doll Amy Adams creepily segues us into a traffic school sketch. Anyone ever been to traffic school? It sounds remarkably terrible. Ooh, Penelope! Love. I also believe that Amy Adams could be a pretty convincing second grade teacher, if the situation demanded– traffic school seems pretty similar to elementary school, if SNL is to be trusted.

Amy Adams’ sideswept hair welcomes us to a medical sketch, or an ad for Dr. Uncle Jimmy’s Smokehouse and Outpatient Surgical Facility on Route 13! Will Forte, as a modified, Buffalo-plaid-clad Col. Sanders, explains both his “medical” training and menu. Guess I won’t be eating lunch anytime soon… And Amy Adams doesn’t look nearly as emaciated or corpse-like as Ellen Pompeo! Ew. Grey’s and I have been on a break since the whole George/Izzie “love” thing began, because I am not a fan of just-plain-terrible writing.

Dangerously-small-dress wearing AA fades to reveal Jason Sudeikis as Roger Clemens, who I am pretty sure can decapitate a man with his bare hands, maybe even only one of said hands. Roger welcomes us, with his massively veiny arms and a play called, “Guess What, Dingbats? Steroids ARE Good For Baseball.” This play is much more coherent than anything I imagine that would come out of Clemens’ ‘roid-addled mind. And I? Happen to like stats geeks, thankyouverymuch.

Kenan Thompson is…Tookie Styles? I have no idea. It’s no good. Bleep-bloop.

Vampire Weekend, I will not fast-forward through you. Love!

Celebrations– the perfect venue for a Ladies Night, and Amy A. is sporting her good old Drop Dead Gorgeous hair, which I assure you is horrifying. They order Chardonnay and Pinot Grigio…and, is this even satire? Sometimes the lamer of the ladies are only into terrible, wimpy wines– although, for the purposes of the sketch, could we not have included White Zinfandel or Arbor Mist? There’s a dance routine to “Umbrella,” which I still love to listen to, and is further proof that I am, in fact, pretty lame.

To conclude…I would like to have hair like Amy Adams. And why are there so many street-fighting/street-dancing movies? Who sees them? Are these the same people who went to see 10,000 BC? I don’t think I want to know. Amy Adams’ hair person, call me!