Monday, January 14, 2008

A Few Thoughts



Concerning Monday night television.

I like American Gladiators. Let me rephrase that. I recognize the potential in American Gladiators. It has a lot of really good things going for it. Ridiculous costumes, crowds cheering far beyond their reasonable level of emotional involvement, and people getting hit/falling down. Oh yeah, and one badass tennis ball cannon (thank$ NERF!).

Every child of the 80s remembers the original cannon. I mean seriously, no elementary school revenge fantasy would complete without 100 MPH tennis ball humiliation crowned with a totally hetero congratulatory high five with the Gladiator King, Nitro.


I really can't stress the "hetero" part enough.

Anyway, the Gladiators are back and badasser than they were. Crazy characters smack around the hayseed contenders with all sorts of foam bricks and holy crap, they added water this time! Wow! Anyway, my point is it needs more blood. I want to see an ambulance at the studio. Idling.

Also, I would like to become a Gladiator. Really. Oach and I have discussed this. My name would be Mouse. Sure, I don't have the size, or the speed... or the... umm... AMERICAN GLADIATORS RULES!!! WOO!!!

I spent some time trying to find a good "me as Gladiator" picture, but these are the best I could do:


Destroy!!!

Or this one, more representative of most of my screen time:


Heal!!!

My best event? Regaining consciousness.

Though now that I think about it, I could probably be pretty effective. My sheer desperation, coupled with the contender's self-loathing at beating someone so obviously defenseless could lead to a lot of upsets. Plus I could work the "Oh man, this guy is clearly insane" angle.


Hulk Hogan: And John, the seven foot construction worker from Detroit, on this next event, you'll be going head to head with... Mouse!! How about some strategy?

John: I don't know, man... I have a daughter bigger than him. I think I might just kill him.

HH: Mouse! What do you think of John's plan?

Me: Well, Hulk... I'm pretty much going to shriek really loudly, start sobbing, and then savagely claw at his eyes and balls, though not necessarily in that order.

John: I forfeit.

and Scene.

But in all honesty, I really would like to try the Eliminator. I think I could do pretty well on it, especially if I went up against someone who is unable to swim, like that guy tonight. I'm not sure anyone told him about that requirement going into the show. Also I think my lack of upper and lower body weight would act in my favor on the cargo net. The hand truck I would skip. Just jump down and climb up the other side. I'm not sure why anyone bothers with that thing.

That's enough about Gladiators. I have a few more ideas, but they mostly involve adding the tennis ball cannon to every single event. And lighting the tennis balls on fire.

On to The Sarah Connor Chronicles. I love the Terminator series. Of course, by series I mean Terminator and Terminator 2: Judgment Day. THAT'S IT. Period. End of paragraph.


Terrible.

I would be mad a Kristanna Loken for that movie, but then she made Bloodrayne... so I guess she's suffered enough.

Don't get me wrong, so far the TV show is terrible, but I have to watch it for a prediction of mine.

8 Episodes.

That's how long it's going to take for John Connor to have sex with the Terminator. If he can last that long, I mean.

Hear me out.

First of all, this show is on Fox.

Secondly, look at her/it!


Deadly.

All I'm saying is that if I were to send a robot that looks like this back in time to hang around with myself as a 15 year old, there's no way I'm not including the deluxe programming package.
Also, I would make it call me Mal*.


I think I've said quite enough for now. Catch you kids later,


Rev









*That's Captain Malcolm Reynolds to you. Oh yeah.

1 comment:

  1. I too have experienced the wonders of Fox Monday night awesomeness and agree wholeheartedly with all of Rev's very valid points...

    8 episodes...to air the boning...

    Let's face it, that D-Bag is totally giving it to River when the cameras are off...sick bastard...those vacant eyes are haunting...

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