Another week of TV, another week where I haven’t decided to check out of this hotel we call existence, the spunk-stained blanket of life covering up my frail body as I flip from one channel to the next praying for deliverance. The movie. I’m praying for the film to be on TBS or something. And then there’s Drake, implacable in his eternal sunniness, the yin to my yang, the black sperm looking thing with a white dot to my white sperm looking thing with a black dot, the murder victim to my professional killer. Let’s see what we have to see! Why not?

Drake: Andy, I have been looking forward to this all week.

Andy: What, taking a dump? Are you constipated?

Drake: There were so many good segways from there. Taking a dump was not one of them.

Andy: Haha. Alright, how about: What, Bush getting the ol’ heave-ho?

Drake: I sure am going to miss him.

Andy: I wonder if he knows that he was one of the worst presidents in the history of the US or if he’s completely in denial.

Drake: It looks like it’s crept up on him in the last few days.

I’m the Charlie Chaplain of war criminals.

Andy: Like when you know your girlfriend is going to break up with you, but you convince yourself she’s not fucking you because she really is constantly tired.

Drake: She is! She works out a lot!

Drake: With Big Tony from the gym.

Andy: Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Drill it into your mind until that thought is burrowed deep and sprouts twigs and branches.

Drake: At this point, maybe 80 percent of my brain is stuff I’ve repressed.

Andy: Also, I like how your hypothetical girlfriend is cuckolding you with a mobster.

Andy: Hey, can I give a quick shout out to Time Warner?

Drake: By all means…

Andy: Wait, is it still a shout out if I’m calling them all dickheads?

Drake: Sure. Why not?

Andy: I want to shout out their fucking faces. My internet went out last Wednesday, and I made an appointment for Saturday and no one ever showed up. And then I spent 3 hours on the phone trying to get someone to tell me what the fuck had happened. And only when I threatened to cancel my service did someone actually help me. And the way their customer service is built, it has to be a deliberate business plan. Because I can imagine about ten different ways of structuring your business that make more sense than these assholes. So, the difficulty of this entire process is a conscious part of their corporate model. Fuck them.

Andy: And that’s my shout out.

Drake: That sucks. If Time Warner was making you its bitch all week, how are you going to talk TV shows?

Andy: This is sad, but I went to a coffeeshop to send out resumes, and downloaded some shows while I was there. The Friday Night Lights season three and possible series finale.

Andy: Which if I wasn’t emotionally repressed would have had me bawling.

Drake: If only I could just find the tears…

Drake: Wait, NBC’s canceling Friday Night Lights?

Andy: I have no idea. But I was watching the first-run DirectTV ones. And it would have to be monetarily worth NBC’s while to pony up the cash for season 4.

Drake: So then why’d you say it was the series finale? Stop toying with heart! Actually I’m not all that into that show, but I see the appeal.

Andy: I said “possible”. We’ll have to see how the NBC run goes. Stop skimming the gems that I write, and appraise them in their infinite majesty.

It was a good run. Except for, uh, almost all of season two.

Drake: I’m just going to order the Andy Beckerman cliffnotes. I’m working in a time frame.

Andy: Fair enough. First order of business: what the fuck is Testees? True to my word, I never looked it up.

Drake: Good man. It’s a show on FX, usually paired up with It’s Always Sunny. And it’s damn funny.

Andy: Really…I need some good new comedies to watch. My life is such a depressing shitball.

Drake: It’s about two guys who make money signing up for obscure medical experiments. They basically do horrible/dangerous shit to their bodies in exchange for being really lazy and not working. These are characters to whom I can relate.

Andy: Although, you must remember, Always Sunny leaves me feeling always…what’s a word that rhymes with “sunny” but means “bored”?

Drake: Yeah I refuse to help you defame It’s Always Sunny. Also I’m not good with rhymes. It’s always stood between me and my life as a beat poet.

Andy: Didn’t you produce Jay-Z’s last album?

Drake: Yes. But I don’t see how that’s related.

Andy: No. You wouldn’t.

Drake: You should check out the episode where the guys go blind. I laughed my ass off. That’s a good place to start. Their other lazy friend decided to freeload, staying in their apartment and not paying rent, without their knowledge. So he spends the entire episode avoiding the blind people in a slapstick manner, to continue living rent free and eating their food.

The only medical test we haven’t subjected ourselves to is an HIV test. We don’t want to know!

Andy: Ok, I’ll download one before the next column. So I can tell you why it sucks and why you’re a horrible person for liking it.

Drake: And yes…I’m horrible person for liking it. But I don’t care. It’s just logic. Let me explain. Premise 1: There are a lot of assholes in the world. Premise 2: Assholes will love this show that makes fun of blind people. Therefore: Infinity $$$! QED

Drake: I rest my case.

Andy: I want Infinity $$$

Drake: Don’t we all. And maybe you’d have it, if you’d gotten on board with Testees in the first place. Like It’s Always Sunny…

Andy: Dude, I haven’t even seen it yet.

Drake: I’m sure they maybe a lot of money.

Andy: Don’t take my infinite $$$ away from me yet.

Drake: Fine! But they made a lot of money and they hired Danny Devito and he made a lot of money and now he has his own brand of lemon flavored alcohol! Don’t you want your own brand of lemon booze??

Andy: Is that true?

Drake: It sure is. I want to call it Beckerlime.

Andy: It’s 70 percent alcohol by volume and Kosher.

Andy: Alright. I have yours: Sake Swiller. “It’s Swiller Time!”

Drake: Hmm. I’m not sure about that.

Andy: Unfortunately, “Sake” doesn’t actually rhyme with “Drake”

Drake: Stupid English!

Andy: If only your first name was “Jackée”.

Drake: Swiller though…I don’t know. I feel if somebody offered me a cold Swiller, I wouldn’t want to be involved.

Andy: I’d prefer a cold glass of Danny DeVito’s Shit-Flavored Soda

Drake: I don’t think they make that. I haven’t sold you on Lemoncello? It’s hooch sold by Danny DeVito! This should be a no-brainer.

Buy my drink or I’ll kill my children.

Andy: I am going to drink nary a drop of anything until Devito patents a shit-flavored soda. If I’m dead in a week then so be it.

Drake: You died doing what you loved. Or something. Or trying to get shit-flavored soda on the market. So you died doing something stupid.

Andy: But I didn’t live 29 years on this Earth to finally see the inauguration of a black man yet not have any shit-flavored soda to celebrate with.

Drake: Yes, it is a hollow victory.

Drake: It’s a little odd that DeVito went with such a high end product and campaign. I bet if there was “DeVito brand bathtub liquor” it would sell like crazy. The college crowd and the late 20s would eat that up.

Andy: Why has he not hired us to brainstorm ideas for him? Everybody that loves Prohibition-era jokes would go nuts for that.

Drake: You’ve pregamed. You’re out with your buddies getting some beers and “Oh look, shady high-proof alcohol with Danny DeVito’s face on it.” He’d be like the Paul Newman of bathtub booze.

Andy: Speaking of pre-gaming it, did you watch any football this week?

Drake: I did.

Andy: I lived in Pittsburgh for seven years, so I went to a bar with some friends and watched the Steelers game. Though I don’t really understand the way people invest their subjectivity into these teams. Like, how do you identify with a sports team that only exists to make money for its owner? The Steelers have becomes this weird symbol of the working class. Yet, if they weren’t profitable, they’d be sold off.

Drake: Who actually owns them?

Andy: Fuck, I bet they win the Superbowl this year in a fix. Just like the Patriots win after 9/11. The working class heroes win it during the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression. It’s a fucking fix. And I’m going to bet my entire savings on them to win.

Live vicariously through me, assholes!

Drake: How much is that exactly?

Andy: At the moment?

Drake: Sure.

Andy: Uh…nothing.

Drake: We may have found the root of your problem.

Andy: This reminds me though, have you seen the commercial where the office mail guy is talking about how all the higher-ups like lost everyone’s pension? And he’s like, “That’s ok, I have my lotto ticket.”

Drake: Yes I have.

Andy: I can’t tell if it was just classist or also racist.

Drake: That’s disturbing.

Andy: Although now that Obama is president, I guess nothing we can say is racist.

Drake: I don’t think it’s racist. It just shows rich white people getting paid out the ass for ruining the financial structure of America. Which is well…true. I do like that.

Andy: And the only recourse for everyone else is to buy a scratch ‘n’ win.

Drake: And now that

Andy: I guess it’s sadly prescient.

Drake: That’s disturbing. The real money’s at the track. Everybody knows that.

Andy: Oh-ho-ho, I worked at an OTB one college summer.

Drake: Haha.

Andy: What a fucking scam!

Drake: You didn’t see any winners?

Andy: I’m a pretty huge Pavement fan, and I saw them play in Philly that summer on their last tour. And the one guy in Pavement is a huge racing fan, and he owns a horse, and I was talking to him after the show about it, and he told me his horse was running the next day. So I put two bucks on it, and the fucker ran like a pig. Dead last.

Drake: Haha! Goddamn it!

Andy: I never bet another cent.

Drake: You’re a huge loser.