A National Lampoon Emmy Preview: DTV Nightlife Video starring Mike DiSerio

Since its inception earlier this month, DTV.org has proven itself as one of the most promising government sponsored public awareness channels in entertainment, producing such hit programs as Watching DTV with a Converter Box and its critically acclaimed sequel, Rescan Your Converter Box. Accordingly, inveterate TV watchers across the nation were biting their nails until the June 12 premier of DTV.gov’s latest minimalist masterpiece, DTV Nightlife Video.

The story, penned by two of our nation’s premier PSA copywriters, is compelling: After explaining why it is now necessary to switch from analog to digital television, Mike DiSerio (playing himself) helps you set up a converter box, talks about antennas, and then answers many questions about digital television. SPOILER ALERT: At its dramatic close, Mr. DiSerio helps you scan for channels and then provides a phone number for more information.  The result: a veritable tour de force of analog broadcasting, an understated vision of technological halcyon the likes of which has never been seen since the AdCouncil’s cyberbullying prevention campaign of 2008.

Read the rest of this entry »

Paris Hilton Vies For Attention, Startles Child

Desperate for attention during the late Michael Jackson’s domination of the media, Paris Hilton hit the streets (and fields) this morning in a bold attempt to garner some much-craved attention.Onlookers tried to ignore the slight heiress, but Hilton choked down a rare ring-tailed lemur (Lemur catta)–bones, fur, and all–to keep them looking. As a young boy began to weep at the brutal murder and consumption of the beloved Madagascan creature, the vapid blonde was overheard saying that the lemur tasted “hot”.

URGENT REMINDER: There are just 686 days until the next World Beard and Moustache Championships

Last month, I experienced one of the darkest moments of my life. My roommate, whom I now hate, was being her usual inconsiderate self by inviting me to celebrating her birthday ON THE SAME EXACT NIGHT AS THE LOST FINALE. So I was sitting at our table at Saddle Ranch, enjoying some poorly executed mechanical bull riding when it dawned on me that a small but satisfying number of Lost’s compelling mysteries were being demystified and an annoyingly greater number were being created AT THIS VERY MOMENT. Tears were sort of streaming down my face as I returned home, quickly descending upon my computer and plumbing the depths of the internet’s most comprehensive BitTorrent sites for an opportunity to redeem myself.

I had hoped this forlorn disaster would never happen again, but yesterday I learned that because of my overwhelming obsession with Lost, I neglected to discover that the very week before, brave American men were fighting for our country’s honor at the World Beard and Mustache Championships in Anchorage, Alaska. IS THIS SOME KIND OF SICK COSMIC JOKE? HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED TO ME??? Because the World Beard and Mustache Championships is a real competition that actually exists, kind of like the Olympics, where bearded wonders around globe engage in violent beard-to-beard combat, kind of like in the Olympics. You might presume that the winner of this prestigious contest would be a more hirsute nation like Germany, where both men and woman could ostensibly compete. NO—this year’s undisputed champion of facial hair was none other than BEARD TEAM USA.

Read the rest of this entry »

You know you’ve made it when…

1.  You earn a cutesy little nickname in the tabloids like Lilo, Brangelina, that other sister with the big nose, the chick with the dick, Cuh-razee Spice, or Wino.

2.  People around the globe try to emulate your haircut.  Like how women in the 70’s wanted “The Farah”, women in the 90’s wanted “The Rachel”, and tranny’s in the late 00’s wanted “The Winehouse Beehive of Crack-House Horror” to top off their Halloween costumes.

3.  David Carradine comes back from the dead and spends six days of his newly undead time constructing a Jetson’s-esque statue of you out of legos for the sole purpose of dressing it in a better outfit than one you currently own then posing with it in front of a strip mall.

You’ve made it Amy Winehouse. Welcome to the Bigs.

The Future of the Dope Game

There used to be a time when you didn’t need a degree to be a drug dealer. But it seems like all the new up-and-coming drug dealers of the future are doctors. The LAPD is questioning several of Michael Jackson’s doctors, from his cardiologist to his dermatologist. What type of power does this dermatologist have? We know Michael Jackson had a “skin condition,” but was it that serious that he needed major drugs.

What happened to the good ole days when all you needed was a contact, a few kilos of coke and you were an official drug dealer? What happened to the days of standing on the corner and harassing little children with the hopes of getting a new client? Now you have to do at least 15 years – that’s before the prison sentence, and pass the Medical Exam. This new breed of drug dealers are also prepared for any legal situation.  They have fast talking, fancy dressed lawyers, not a court appointed lawyer. They’re really changing the game.

But the face of drug dealers aren’t the only thing changing. Celebrities are also changing. Back in the days celebrities like Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley and John Belushi would shoot up their own drugs; they didn’t have some fancy doctor administering their drugs. The stars today are just lazy. They want to do the drugs but they don’t want to “do” the drug.

Well anyways all my hopes and dreams are ruined, because now there’s no way I can ever become a drug dealer. It’s too complicated now.

A Tidal Wave of Celebrity Deaths

It seems that within the last few weeks, the average life span of semi-influential entertainers has significantly decreased.  I’m pretty sure TMZ is going to be considered for a Pulitzer for all the punctual death announcements they have made.  They say celebrities die in threes, but it looks like they die in baker’s dozens.  And sadly, Spencer Pratt lives on.

This is going to sound quite insensitive, but if anyone is happy about this recent barrage of celebrity casualties, it has to be the friends and family of David Carradine.  There are only a few ways to bury a story as embarassing as his, and the death of the King of Pop is one of them.

On a side note, can we get a separate autopsy on Michael to see what the hell was done to his face and skin?

Since its inception earlier this month, DTV.org has proven itself as one of the most promising government sponsored public awareness channels in entertainment, producing such hit programs as Watching DTV with a Converter Box and its critically acclaimed sequel, Rescan Your Converter Box. Accordingly, inveterate TV watchers across the nation were biting their nails until the June 12 premier of DTV.gov’s latest minimalist masterpiece, DTV Nightlife Video.

The story, penned by two of our nation’s premier PSA copywriters, is compelling: After explaining why it is now necessary to switch from analog to digital television, Mike DiSerio (playing himself) helps you set up a converter box, talks about antennas, and then answers many questions about digital television. SPOILER ALERT: At its dramatic close, Mr. DiSerio helps you scan for channels and then provides a phone number for more information.  The result: a veritable tour de force of analog broadcasting, an understated vision of technological halcyon the likes of which has never been seen since the AdCouncil’s cyberbullying prevention campaign of 2008.

Read the rest of this entry »

Desperate for attention during the late Michael Jackson’s domination of the media, Paris Hilton hit the streets (and fields) this morning in a bold attempt to garner some much-craved attention.Onlookers tried to ignore the slight heiress, but Hilton choked down a rare ring-tailed lemur (Lemur catta)–bones, fur, and all–to keep them looking. As a young boy began to weep at the brutal murder and consumption of the beloved Madagascan creature, the vapid blonde was overheard saying that the lemur tasted “hot”.

Last month, I experienced one of the darkest moments of my life. My roommate, whom I now hate, was being her usual inconsiderate self by inviting me to celebrating her birthday ON THE SAME EXACT NIGHT AS THE LOST FINALE. So I was sitting at our table at Saddle Ranch, enjoying some poorly executed mechanical bull riding when it dawned on me that a small but satisfying number of Lost’s compelling mysteries were being demystified and an annoyingly greater number were being created AT THIS VERY MOMENT. Tears were sort of streaming down my face as I returned home, quickly descending upon my computer and plumbing the depths of the internet’s most comprehensive BitTorrent sites for an opportunity to redeem myself.

I had hoped this forlorn disaster would never happen again, but yesterday I learned that because of my overwhelming obsession with Lost, I neglected to discover that the very week before, brave American men were fighting for our country’s honor at the World Beard and Mustache Championships in Anchorage, Alaska. IS THIS SOME KIND OF SICK COSMIC JOKE? HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED TO ME??? Because the World Beard and Mustache Championships is a real competition that actually exists, kind of like the Olympics, where bearded wonders around globe engage in violent beard-to-beard combat, kind of like in the Olympics. You might presume that the winner of this prestigious contest would be a more hirsute nation like Germany, where both men and woman could ostensibly compete. NO—this year’s undisputed champion of facial hair was none other than BEARD TEAM USA.

Read the rest of this entry »

1.  You earn a cutesy little nickname in the tabloids like Lilo, Brangelina, that other sister with the big nose, the chick with the dick, Cuh-razee Spice, or Wino.

2.  People around the globe try to emulate your haircut.  Like how women in the 70’s wanted “The Farah”, women in the 90’s wanted “The Rachel”, and tranny’s in the late 00’s wanted “The Winehouse Beehive of Crack-House Horror” to top off their Halloween costumes.

3.  David Carradine comes back from the dead and spends six days of his newly undead time constructing a Jetson’s-esque statue of you out of legos for the sole purpose of dressing it in a better outfit than one you currently own then posing with it in front of a strip mall.

You’ve made it Amy Winehouse. Welcome to the Bigs.

There used to be a time when you didn’t need a degree to be a drug dealer. But it seems like all the new up-and-coming drug dealers of the future are doctors. The LAPD is questioning several of Michael Jackson’s doctors, from his cardiologist to his dermatologist. What type of power does this dermatologist have? We know Michael Jackson had a “skin condition,” but was it that serious that he needed major drugs.

What happened to the good ole days when all you needed was a contact, a few kilos of coke and you were an official drug dealer? What happened to the days of standing on the corner and harassing little children with the hopes of getting a new client? Now you have to do at least 15 years – that’s before the prison sentence, and pass the Medical Exam. This new breed of drug dealers are also prepared for any legal situation.  They have fast talking, fancy dressed lawyers, not a court appointed lawyer. They’re really changing the game.

But the face of drug dealers aren’t the only thing changing. Celebrities are also changing. Back in the days celebrities like Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley and John Belushi would shoot up their own drugs; they didn’t have some fancy doctor administering their drugs. The stars today are just lazy. They want to do the drugs but they don’t want to “do” the drug.

Well anyways all my hopes and dreams are ruined, because now there’s no way I can ever become a drug dealer. It’s too complicated now.

It seems that within the last few weeks, the average life span of semi-influential entertainers has significantly decreased.  I’m pretty sure TMZ is going to be considered for a Pulitzer for all the punctual death announcements they have made.  They say celebrities die in threes, but it looks like they die in baker’s dozens.  And sadly, Spencer Pratt lives on.

This is going to sound quite insensitive, but if anyone is happy about this recent barrage of celebrity casualties, it has to be the friends and family of David Carradine.  There are only a few ways to bury a story as embarassing as his, and the death of the King of Pop is one of them.

On a side note, can we get a separate autopsy on Michael to see what the hell was done to his face and skin?