<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102</id><updated>2008-07-06T17:09:14.545-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jason Elias: Pop Culture Idiot</title><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>314</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-1027118101337628119</id><published>2008-06-20T17:04:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T19:48:20.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year of the 8 Track: A Travelogue</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SFwbdJbcrrI/AAAAAAAABoo/f5coTUknxJs/s1600-h/P1010026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SFwbdJbcrrI/AAAAAAAABoo/f5coTUknxJs/s320/P1010026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214072656149393074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Isn't that beautiful? To me, it's almost like porn. Don't get jealous, the 8 tracks in the picture on the left are mine. Mine! I've never been so happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month or so ago, I decided to further explore this bit of analog science--like over a 1,500 albums didn't get me there enough. Still I remembered how 8 tracks sounded different and often better than their vinyl counterpart. Believe it or not, I'm still single.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SFw6LNqA02I/AAAAAAAABow/tVTx5EEpUws/s1600-h/tapes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SFw6LNqA02I/AAAAAAAABow/tVTx5EEpUws/s320/tapes.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214106432907039586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Oops A' Daisy&lt;/span&gt;-Right after I was about to have a party, reality beckoned. Looks like I have to fix some tape! Here's a list of what I got...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Best of Tavares&lt;br /&gt;Barry Manilow-One Voice&lt;br /&gt;Supertramp-Crime of the Century&lt;br /&gt;Burt Bacharach-Make It Easy On Yourself&lt;br /&gt;Rod Stewart-Foolish Behaviour&lt;br /&gt;Linda Ronstadt-Living In The USA&lt;br /&gt;Linda Ronstadt-Prisoner in Disguise&lt;br /&gt;Linda Ronstandt-A Retrospective&lt;br /&gt;Linda Ronstandt-Hasten Down the Wind&lt;br /&gt;Linda Ronstandt-Prisoner of Disguise&lt;br /&gt;Linda Ronstandt-Simple Dreams&lt;br /&gt;Bonnie Raitt-The Glow&lt;br /&gt;Kenny Rogers-Greatest Hits&lt;br /&gt;Carly Simon-Hotcakes&lt;br /&gt;Robert Palmer-Clues&lt;br /&gt;Kim Carnes-Mistaken Identity&lt;br /&gt;The Doobie Brothers-One Step Closer&lt;br /&gt;Abba-Voulez Vous&lt;br /&gt;Abba-s/t&lt;br /&gt;Abba-The Album&lt;br /&gt;Abba-Arrival&lt;br /&gt;Michael Jackson-Off the Wall&lt;br /&gt;The Carpenters-A Song For You&lt;br /&gt;The Carpenters-The Singles (1969-1973)&lt;br /&gt;Barry Manilow-If I Should Love Again&lt;br /&gt;Saturday Night Fever-soundtrack&lt;br /&gt;Earth Wind and Fire-Gratitude&lt;br /&gt;Earth Wind and Fire-Spirit&lt;br /&gt;Stevie Wonder-Greatest Hits Vol 2&lt;br /&gt;Stevie Wonder-Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants&lt;br /&gt;Gino Vannelli-Brother to Brother&lt;br /&gt;The Rolling Stones-Tattoo You&lt;br /&gt;Barbara Streisand-Guilty&lt;br /&gt;Christopher Cross-s/t&lt;br /&gt;Peaches and Herb-2 Hot&lt;br /&gt;Bee Gees-Greatest&lt;br /&gt;Stevie Nicks-Bella Donna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Best of the Lot: &lt;/span&gt;The Doobie Brothers- One Step Closer- Sounds great, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;why &lt;/span&gt;I don't know...</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/06/year-of-8-track-travelogue.html' title='The Year of the 8 Track: A Travelogue'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=1027118101337628119&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/1027118101337628119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/1027118101337628119'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/1027118101337628119'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-51131184681750195</id><published>2008-06-05T01:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T01:37:12.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kind of Watching It DVD's: Twist Around the Clock/Don't Knock the Twist</title><content type='html'>i had the great luck of finding two classics. The best part? They were only 3.99, what a bargin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SEdtmILr9FI/AAAAAAAABnw/H-IeF1sLbII/s1600-h/chubbychecker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SEdtmILr9FI/AAAAAAAABnw/H-IeF1sLbII/s200/chubbychecker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208251995876226130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Twist Around the Clock&lt;/span&gt; (1961)-  The plot is simple, there isn't one just excuses to have people peddle their hits and in Chubby's case, shitty, non-hits. This movie, like the other, portrayed Checker as a will o' the wisp, barely there in his own life and celebrity. As an actor he makes Muhammad Ali seem like Sir Alec Guinness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly one could raise the specter of racism on this classic movie. Chubby is only seen on stage, near it or leaving it. Chubby has no story/plot. In this boneheaded film, the star is some talent executive is looking for twisting acts and of course the munificent Checker is his go to guy. Really excitin'! The "cast" here is wanting too. Here we get to see Dion lip-synch the always annoying "Runaround Sue" and whatever else he did. New York radio personality Clay Cole got to massacre a few non-hits and Chubby, well, he didn't do a heck of a lot--see picture on the upper left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rating: **&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SEdxHHkCctI/AAAAAAAABoA/R3Knx58pfpY/s1600-h/chubby+checker+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SEdxHHkCctI/AAAAAAAABoA/R3Knx58pfpY/s200/chubby+checker+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208255861180494546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Don't Knock the Twist&lt;/span&gt;- (1962) Oddly enough this was more thought out and believable than the other one. This is basically &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the Deer Hunter&lt;/span&gt; of the twisting movies. The premise was a TV guy trying to assemble a Twisting TV show to help a network in the ratings. The dude also had a boring-ass girlfriend/clothing designer. He soon dropped kicked her ass for some young doxy he saw through a window, doing--The Twist!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where was Chubby in all of this? On stage, where else. He again was the go-to guy, assembling the talent and inflicting yet another cachet of twisting songs on a thoroughly tired public. The most hilarious thing here is someone named Vic Dana did this dirge-like song, "Alter Boy" in the middle of a rocking set. Killjoy. Unlike the other shitting ass movie, Chubby actually was invited into someone's home and got to lie on the couch for a spell. Ain't that great?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rating: ***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SEdx-6PDGxI/AAAAAAAABoI/Fo343njo1Lc/s1600-h/chubbychecker.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SEdx-6PDGxI/AAAAAAAABoI/Fo343njo1Lc/s200/chubbychecker.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208256819675470610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Alternative Ending:&lt;/span&gt; Checker does "Limbo Twist" politely excuses himself, comes back on stage with a musket, kills crowd. The End.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/06/kind-of-watching-it-dvds-twist-around.html' title='Kind of Watching It DVD&apos;s: Twist Around the Clock/Don&apos;t Knock the Twist'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=51131184681750195&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/51131184681750195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/51131184681750195'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/51131184681750195'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-4904932654259264150</id><published>2008-05-27T15:48:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T16:16:25.934-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst Trades Ever</title><content type='html'>I read the news about young, &lt;a href="http://www.iht.com/articles/ap/2008/05/24/sports/NA-SPT-BBL-Traded-for-Bats.php"&gt;John Odom &lt;/a&gt;I hope he has an indomitable spirit because he was traded for maple bats. Still these weren't the worst trades I've ever heard off, I can think of some others....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt3FIYV7JI/AAAAAAAABl4/iAtI6YzP2QE/s1600-h/carmen_fanzone1975_topps.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt3FIYV7JI/AAAAAAAABl4/iAtI6YzP2QE/s200/carmen_fanzone1975_topps.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204884724389375122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Carmen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Fanzone&lt;/span&gt;- A old-time fan- Carmen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Fanzone&lt;/span&gt; has become a pop culture favorite perhaps due to his oddly colorful 1975 baseball card. He didn't do a heck of a lot on the field though. That didn't stop this 1975 trade from being on the unsettling side. In something described as a "clerical error," Carmen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Fanzone&lt;/span&gt; was traded for a fan, an actual working electric fan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDxqRIYV7UI/AAAAAAAABnQ/zN3Erw2L-rs/s1600-h/fan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDxqRIYV7UI/AAAAAAAABnQ/zN3Erw2L-rs/s200/fan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205152111873355074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While Fanzone groused from the sidelines, the fan ended hitting 20 home runs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDwkMYYV7TI/AAAAAAAABnI/zWEozOeSGBc/s1600-h/tiant+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDwkMYYV7TI/AAAAAAAABnI/zWEozOeSGBc/s200/tiant+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205075064455032114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Luis &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tiant&lt;/span&gt; Traded for Cartoon Cow Set. True by 1983 Luis has lost a little of his zip, but still that doesn't excuse the indignity of a trade that's enough to make anyone queasy. Trading southpaw reliever Luis &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tiant&lt;/span&gt; for not one but two ceramic cows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt3lYYV7MI/AAAAAAAABmQ/Ey9_sEH9Naw/s1600-h/ceramic+cows.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt3lYYV7MI/AAAAAAAABmQ/Ey9_sEH9Naw/s200/ceramic+cows.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204885278440156354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The California Angels were fans of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;knick&lt;/span&gt;-knacks and so the unthinkable happened...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt4BoYV7NI/AAAAAAAABmY/eFMaP7eTGM4/s1600-h/tiant.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt4BoYV7NI/AAAAAAAABmY/eFMaP7eTGM4/s200/tiant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204885763771460818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In an even more shocking move, in 1996, Luis &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Tiant&lt;/span&gt; was traded for Luis &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Tiant&lt;/span&gt;. He had been out of baseball for nearly 18 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt4U4YV7OI/AAAAAAAABmg/cA8RaMckfaI/s1600-h/ed+kranepool.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt4U4YV7OI/AAAAAAAABmg/cA8RaMckfaI/s200/ed+kranepool.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204886094483942626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ed Kranepool: Traded For a Prostitute. By the early '80s the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Mets&lt;/span&gt; had turned to youth. In response it decided to drop kick those who were team members who were as old as me.  One of the first causalities of the youth movement was one Ed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Kranepool&lt;/span&gt;. He was traded to the Twins, for a streetwalker. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDxqtIYV7VI/AAAAAAAABnY/mCM-ve7VoLg/s1600-h/streetwalkers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDxqtIYV7VI/AAAAAAAABnY/mCM-ve7VoLg/s200/streetwalkers.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205152592909692242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Kranepool&lt;/span&gt; never played as a Twin, he was too shook up.  The aforementioned prostitute went .168 at 3 at bats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt4noYV7QI/AAAAAAAABmw/qtAo7R8tdUw/s1600-h/OdomJohn1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt4noYV7QI/AAAAAAAABmw/qtAo7R8tdUw/s200/OdomJohn1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204886416606489858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; John "Blue Moon" Odom: Dealt for Stereo Equipment. Same name, different time, same old tragedy...You don't hear much about Blue Moon Odom anymore. He was a character, he only played night games with a blue moon. He had issues. When it came time for the White &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Sox&lt;/span&gt; to deal Odom to the young Blue Jays, what they got in turn was special. What they got was a stereo. Now this wasn't any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' stereo but high end audio system advertised in Playboy magazine. When asked about this odd twist of fate Odom recounted, "Yeah it's weird being traded for a stereo, but it was a rocking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Marantz&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDrlx4YV7II/AAAAAAAABlw/BKMLGZ4HDdU/s1600-h/marantz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDrlx4YV7II/AAAAAAAABlw/BKMLGZ4HDdU/s200/marantz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204724964490865794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When asked about this odd twist of fate Odom recounted, "Yeah it's weird being traded for a stereo, but it was a rocking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Marantz&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt5HYYV7RI/AAAAAAAABm4/SCI0DKS9KJI/s1600-h/sabo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDt5HYYV7RI/AAAAAAAABm4/SCI0DKS9KJI/s200/sabo.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204886962067336466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Chris &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Sabo&lt;/span&gt;/Baseball Bat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Donut&lt;/span&gt;-Chris &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Sabo&lt;/span&gt; was a gamer. He played with the vim and vigor of 15 B.J. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Surhoffs&lt;/span&gt;. But when it came time for the Orioles to "loose" him off the team, they had to get something in return. In this case, it was a bunch of baseball bat donuts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDwdyIYV7SI/AAAAAAAABnA/W-y3QjF81aE/s1600-h/adonut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SDwdyIYV7SI/AAAAAAAABnA/W-y3QjF81aE/s200/adonut.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205068016413699362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Contrary to popular belief those things don't grow on trees, they've got to come from somewhere....</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/05/worst-trades-ever.html' title='Worst Trades Ever'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=4904932654259264150&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/4904932654259264150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/4904932654259264150'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/4904932654259264150'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-8005100528924186915</id><published>2008-05-17T21:20:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T21:41:16.015-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures In Yard Sales</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SC-Eu0BYljI/AAAAAAAABkQ/YJ1GMaJBj54/s1600-h/P1010009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SC-Eu0BYljI/AAAAAAAABkQ/YJ1GMaJBj54/s200/P1010009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201522034409510450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; If you can't tell, I've been having "a time." Nothing major but my nervous condition is increasing. To calm my nerves I go to yard sales and whatnot to pick up knick knacks and cheap things to sell at a staggering prices. The problem? Yard sales are beginning to suck. This contraption is the only thing that I picked up at one. This woman all but forced my to buy it, showing teeth, guilting my into it. Damn, it's not like it's money for Jerry's Kids, it's a damn VCR. I paid her 2 dollars before I lost myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long short short, I thought it was a find. For &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;some &lt;/span&gt;reason, I thought  that it was a model from the '80s or so. How many VHS tapes do I have? Zero, but that's not the issue. To check my "classic '80's" VCR, I looked for the date. It was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;1997.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SC-E20BYlkI/AAAAAAAABkY/_0EDcHjkhBM/s1600-h/P1010010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SC-E20BYlkI/AAAAAAAABkY/_0EDcHjkhBM/s200/P1010010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201522171848463938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;After:&lt;/span&gt;  Oh my, it doesn't even look the same, I beat it into another model. In the kids vernacular, I lost my shit. I don't know what prompted such a though beat down. I don't know what caused it, hearing that woman begging money out of me, the fact that I bought this and just being me in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SC-H20BYllI/AAAAAAAABkg/qcq954tXnxQ/s1600-h/Richardson-Obama.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SC-H20BYllI/AAAAAAAABkg/qcq954tXnxQ/s200/Richardson-Obama.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201525470383347282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Barack Obama and Bill Richardson laughing at me for being an idiot. My mental decline's not funny!</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/05/adventures-in-yard-sales.html' title='Adventures In Yard Sales'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=8005100528924186915&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/8005100528924186915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/8005100528924186915'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/8005100528924186915'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-5606634749506637332</id><published>2008-05-05T01:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T01:40:52.588-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Grand Theft Auto and Barack Obama, What?</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fmYyvLTzPhQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fmYyvLTzPhQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sad day for a geek. My Fortune 500 company was willing to help &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Barack&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt;. When my staff sent me this clip, it was a down day at the office. We cried. In fact, I'm still crying, I had to dismiss everyone early. In the clip we see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt; taking time out of his busy schedule to talk about Grand Theft Auto IV like it's poison or something.  Shame on him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Review:&lt;/span&gt; Check out that segue at around :24 seconds in, pulling Grand Theft Auto out of thin air. What was he talking about before that? NAFTA? The Spinners? It's all a blur. While I'm a fan, it looks like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Obama's&lt;/span&gt; flying blind here, casting about and taking out an unsuspecting target, the family friendly game, Grand Theft Auto. In fact, I've learned many life lessons from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;GTA&lt;/span&gt;: San Andreas like how to attack strangers with a billyclub&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, act like its 1992 all day and shoot folks for spending change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Profound Disappointment&lt;/span&gt;: Sadly, it looks like I'll never have that day of playing Grand Theft Auto with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Barack&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Obama&lt;/span&gt; and for that, we are all a bit diminished.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/05/grand-theft-auto-and-barack-obama-what.html' title='Grand Theft Auto and Barack Obama, What?'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=5606634749506637332&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/5606634749506637332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/5606634749506637332'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/5606634749506637332'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-4758370618616766104</id><published>2008-04-21T12:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T12:59:41.617-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Electric Company'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Law and Order'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CSI'/><title type='text'>Show Exits</title><content type='html'>For some reason, I like it when people leave TV dramas. Clearly all characters have a fan base and they feel so bad when actors leave with or without their own volition. The last few days have been busy ones. I thought I'd mark this momentous occasion and say "Ah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Verwa&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsm5nXGUSI/AAAAAAAABg0/5MqwmeB-0_k/s1600-h/SVU_Diane_Neal_120x120.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsm5nXGUSI/AAAAAAAABg0/5MqwmeB-0_k/s200/SVU_Diane_Neal_120x120.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191285766734893346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Diane Neal- She leaves us after 20 years as ADA on Law and Order. She had been on all seasons but we just didn't see her. So far, the spin from Neal's exit isn't good. She reportedly flew the F word around and that was that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quit or Fired: Pending&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsn13XGUVI/AAAAAAAABhM/PRQSbLIrzG4/s1600-h/gary_dourdan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsn13XGUVI/AAAAAAAABhM/PRQSbLIrzG4/s200/gary_dourdan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191286801822011730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Gary &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dourdan&lt;/span&gt;- Just as I was beginning to learn how to spell his name. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Warrick&lt;/span&gt; is one of my favorite characters on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;CSI&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CSI&lt;/span&gt; is my favorite show of all of the shows I've seen 100 times but only 3  full episodes. Folks have alluded to an "ongoing problem" much like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;CSI&lt;/span&gt; has an "ongoing problem" too, it's getting shitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;News: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Dourdan&lt;/span&gt; has signed on as guest writer for my diary. Isn't that great! Finally the perspective from someone who doesn't own action figures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsnGXXGUUI/AAAAAAAABhE/klF0lMzKjek/s1600-h/khandialexander_csimiami_s5_240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsnGXXGUUI/AAAAAAAABhE/klF0lMzKjek/s200/khandialexander_csimiami_s5_240.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191285985778225474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Khandi&lt;/span&gt; Alexander- Oh no, this one hurts. Reportedly, the terns of her departure are mutual or not as acrimonious, yet. Still I did enjoy her work on the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh Yeah:&lt;/span&gt; She was on News Radio too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsobHXGUWI/AAAAAAAABhU/tDvFwmlGVvc/s1600-h/jesse_l_martin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsobHXGUWI/AAAAAAAABhU/tDvFwmlGVvc/s200/jesse_l_martin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191287441772138850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jesse L. Martin-Law and Order- Yikes, it's like losing Marvin Gaye all over again. Well not really. Martin will be leaving L&amp;amp;O and leave it to NBC to capitalize on the fact. The show needed promotion the whole season they had Milena &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Govich&lt;/span&gt;. Now the ratings are down and we're stuck with Linus Roche, Jeremy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Sisto&lt;/span&gt;, no Jesse L. Martin and Sam &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Waterson&lt;/span&gt; turning in increasingly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;curmudgeonly performances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Plot Idea: &lt;/span&gt;Shoot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Det&lt;/span&gt;. Green out of a canon, if he survives, it was meant to be, my solution for everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsm_nXGUTI/AAAAAAAABg8/c2yBBkI6t0o/s1600-h/adambeach_147.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAsm_nXGUTI/AAAAAAAABg8/c2yBBkI6t0o/s200/adambeach_147.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191285869814108466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Adam Beach-Law and Order &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;SVU&lt;/span&gt; (SUV) Yep, him too. Now this is news I can live with. Beach seems to be a good actor but his character-type on a long-running show, never works. Beach's "....." was much like the much-maligned &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Falsone&lt;/span&gt; from&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Homicide: Life on the Street&lt;/span&gt;. Perhaps that's an exaggeration, no one is that annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Fast Fact:&lt;/span&gt; Beach's character on Law and Order was named Chester Lake. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Chester Lake? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Doomed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAwLq3XGUcI/AAAAAAAABiY/WgrRIsO3ixQ/s1600-h/df082fafd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SAwLq3XGUcI/AAAAAAAABiY/WgrRIsO3ixQ/s200/df082fafd.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191537301494583746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jason Elias- Law and Order: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;CSI&lt;/span&gt;, The Electric Company:   You can add me to list of those "pursuing other opportunities."  I tendered my resignation to the staffs of both Law and Order: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;CSI&lt;/span&gt; and most regrettably, the Electric Company. The good news, I'm leaving to spend time with Khandi Alexander's family.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/04/show-exits.html' title='Show Exits'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=4758370618616766104&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/4758370618616766104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/4758370618616766104'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/4758370618616766104'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-2584738276940878786</id><published>2008-04-15T13:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T14:43:28.445-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Big Brother 9'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Penthouse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shelia Kennedy'/><title type='text'>So That's Where Shelia Kennedy Is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SATanSRMW3I/AAAAAAAABgc/OGOVVyfmCPQ/s1600-h/sheila+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SATanSRMW3I/AAAAAAAABgc/OGOVVyfmCPQ/s200/sheila+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189513039091358578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You know, I often think about former Playmates and Penthouse Pets. The one good thing about the internets is that searching is fun and I usually can "catch up" with faves. By "catching up" I mean stealing the pics and keeping them in a "special" folder. Little did I know I was looking at one week after week without a clue of who in the heck she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sheila  Kennedy, Penthouse pet of the year from 1983, (5 covers), is presently a contestant on Big Brother 9, the same show I've been whining about being boring for weeks. I don't know how I came across the news, didn't hear it on the show, but I'd like to thank the person who mentioned it, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;somewhere. &lt;/span&gt;Oddly enough, she's mentioned it on the show but I didn't pick it up, can't really hear it when the sound is down and half-assed watching it. Here's a clip from BB. It's so interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wG0WZ21BpbA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wG0WZ21BpbA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the clip, Sheila lived with Bob Guccione in the Fun House for 10 years, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;10 long years.&lt;/span&gt; Not surprisingly, Bob seems to be a weird character, a "ree-cloose" as Sheila puts it. He had some kind of weird setup at his stony mansion, the girls had to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sign in and out&lt;/span&gt;. Sheila goes on to describe even more stuff but the dillweeds keep popping their chops so we can't hear all of the good stuff. Some people...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SATfBSRMW5I/AAAAAAAABgs/Ef5AtK37NcY/s1600-h/sheila+kennedy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/SATfBSRMW5I/AAAAAAAABgs/Ef5AtK37NcY/s200/sheila+kennedy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189517883814468498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here's one of the few pics I can show, heh heh.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-thats-where-shelia-kennedy-is.html' title='So That&apos;s Where Shelia Kennedy Is...'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=2584738276940878786&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/2584738276940878786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/2584738276940878786'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/2584738276940878786'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-6714056730299647528</id><published>2008-04-02T12:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T14:42:31.807-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lucille Ball'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Antonio Carlos Jobim'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='John Travolta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Frank Sinatra'/><title type='text'>"Horrors" From My Record Collection</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-8PAVrwOmI/AAAAAAAABfM/YIj-MNedmps/s1600-h/TravoltaDsc02950PSCP480.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-8PAVrwOmI/AAAAAAAABfM/YIj-MNedmps/s200/TravoltaDsc02950PSCP480.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183378194621807202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; John Travolta-John Travolta- Reunited and it feels so good! I actually had this on 8 track and I foolishly tossed it. It's been a few years and I've finally replaced this genre classic. What's to say about John Travolta besides the fact he's known as one of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;showbiz's&lt;/span&gt; best singers/actors named John Travolta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Notes&lt;/span&gt;: My favorite songs from the album "Rainbows" and "Goodnight Mr. Moon" were co-written by actor/director Michael &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lembeck&lt;/span&gt;. The rhythm, strings and horns and remix were done at Sigma Sound in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-8RNVrwOnI/AAAAAAAABfU/4UXXbgTgVi0/s1600-h/mame2773.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-8RNVrwOnI/AAAAAAAABfU/4UXXbgTgVi0/s200/mame2773.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183380616983362162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The Original Soundtrack From the Motion Picture "Mame."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucille Ball had an atrocious singing voice and by 1974 it was extra creaky. To add even more fun to the proceedings, perennial blowhard Robert Preston and a particularly grating Bea Arthur also are on the soundtrack. The graphics for this are great however, the album is in mint condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verdict: I really shouldn't have this album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R_GGalrwOpI/AAAAAAAABfk/kBw007bLdcQ/s1600-h/richard+harris.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R_GGalrwOpI/AAAAAAAABfk/kBw007bLdcQ/s200/richard+harris.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184072437430499986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Richard Harris-The Prophet/Kahlil &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Gilbran&lt;/span&gt;- By 1974, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Harris's&lt;/span&gt; recording career had clearly peaked. He left or was jettisoned from ABC and signed with Atlantic Records. To sing? Not quite. Harris recites the words of writer Kahlil &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Gilbran&lt;/span&gt; over some really nice and smooth New York pop/R&amp;amp;B by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Arif&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Mardin&lt;/span&gt;. Barry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Manilow&lt;/span&gt; is listed as one of the background singers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sounds Like:&lt;/span&gt; Richard Harris making like a windbag over some poesy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R_L_wFrwOqI/AAAAAAAABfs/l62_ta8p_9I/s1600-h/SinatraJobimTape.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R_L_wFrwOqI/AAAAAAAABfs/l62_ta8p_9I/s200/SinatraJobimTape.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184487322681359010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Frank Sinatra/Antonio Carlos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Jobim&lt;/span&gt;- Sinatra &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Jobim&lt;/span&gt;- Just think about 10 years ago I was downing 40&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;oz's&lt;/span&gt; of the "good stuff" like Steel Reserve and playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;DMX&lt;/span&gt; at an ear-splitting volume. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, that lasted one week, but this is safe to say this is different, mature. This is a virtual acquisition, I was stumbling around the net and found all of the tracks from this storied and immediately deleted 8 track. There were only 3,500 made.  Some songs have appeared, most notably on 1971 Sinatra and Company and all of them landed on a 1979 Brazilian double album that's never been reissued. There's also a box set where all of Frank's Reprise stuff surfaced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Odd Realization:&lt;/span&gt; I'm talking about Frank Sinatra</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/04/horrors-from-my-record-collection.html' title='&quot;Horrors&quot; From My Record Collection'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=6714056730299647528&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/6714056730299647528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/6714056730299647528'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/6714056730299647528'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-7363049767367292974</id><published>2008-03-20T12:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T15:57:55.753-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Providence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California Dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Xuxa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chris Hansen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ready or Not'/><title type='text'>TV I Shouldn't Have Been Watching</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-KQvVrwOiI/AAAAAAAABes/mPH5BIE5hIE/s1600-h/ready1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-KQvVrwOiI/AAAAAAAABes/mPH5BIE5hIE/s200/ready1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179861664378403362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ready Or Not&lt;/span&gt;-I know what you're saying. Jason, weren't you too darned old to be watching&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Ready or Not&lt;/span&gt;? The answer? Indeed. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ready or Not&lt;/span&gt; was a Canadian series that got play on PBS in the early '90s, well throughout all of its run. Even though I was past the years depicted so ably by both Laurie Beltram and Lani Billiard I'm a big fan of good acting. Good acting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Good News:&lt;/span&gt; I did some frantic number crunching and my favorite, Lani Billiard was indeed 18 during the show's run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-Hji1rwOdI/AAAAAAAABeE/MGKTp5kprJc/s1600-h/hansen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-Hji1rwOdI/AAAAAAAABeE/MGKTp5kprJc/s200/hansen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179671234118433234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "Oh really?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-HvTlrwOgI/AAAAAAAABec/QKg3YABqHa4/s1600-h/xuxa1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-HvTlrwOgI/AAAAAAAABec/QKg3YABqHa4/s200/xuxa1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179684166264961538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Xuxa-&lt;/span&gt; Let's be real, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Xuxa&lt;/span&gt; wasn't an ugly woman. In fact, she was quite fetching, such an enjoyable presence.  Xuxa had a TV show in the early '90s, a kids show in fact. I was waiting her to hit the big, big time, but it seemed like something was just holding her back. While she was teaching childrens about the alfabet, she was teaching me about amour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-Hsd1rwOeI/AAAAAAAABeM/wlcptcQDW6o/s1600-h/xuxa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-Hsd1rwOeI/AAAAAAAABeM/wlcptcQDW6o/s200/xuxa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179681043823737314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Baggage, Baggage, Tons O' Baggage&lt;/span&gt;- Upon my deft research, I found that the lovely Xuxa had another career besides being a life-sized clown for the pre-school set, Xuxa had an earlier career in porn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object style="font-weight: bold;" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bk9VmUUKRtU&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bk9VmUUKRtU&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;California Dreams-&lt;/span&gt; This takes me back, the soundtrack of my life. Picture it, either waking up hung over or half crazy, the only sense of normalcy was that theme playing on Saturday morning.  In fact, I teared up just hearing it again. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;California Dreams&lt;/span&gt; actually survived 5 or so seasons and most of the cast was flicked off and replaced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nostalgia Proof:&lt;/span&gt; California Dreams sucked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-HssFrwOfI/AAAAAAAABeU/fqJqvXNc5ao/s1600-h/city+guys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-HssFrwOfI/AAAAAAAABeU/fqJqvXNc5ao/s200/city+guys.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179681288636873202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; City Guys&lt;/span&gt;- Another NBC gem. I'm not even going to front as the kids used to say, I actually liked &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;City Guys&lt;/span&gt;. The sad part? I can't remember much about it besides the fact that it wasn't repugnant. If I'm not mistaken both cast members were about as old as me and by the end of the series run, they both were well over 35 and a half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-KOdVrwOhI/AAAAAAAABek/XjWyMj52u_8/s1600-h/providence.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R-KOdVrwOhI/AAAAAAAABek/XjWyMj52u_8/s200/providence.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179859156117502482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Providence&lt;/span&gt;- Well there's a show I never should have watched. I'll blame it on youth and peer pressure. While the show was fairly innocuous during its initial run on NBC, in reruns, it's lethal. Oh the plot contrivances, the silliness, not to mention the corniness, it's all too much, too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Worst Part:&lt;/span&gt; The fact that I'm talking about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Providence.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/03/tv-i-shouldnt-have-been-watching.html' title='TV I Shouldn&apos;t Have Been Watching'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=7363049767367292974&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/7363049767367292974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/7363049767367292974'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/7363049767367292974'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-341039941281179910</id><published>2008-03-14T03:00:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T18:54:55.028-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quarterlife'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jenner Evans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Woman Docs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Straight or Taken'/><title type='text'>The Worst Shows I've Ever Seen (So Far This Year)</title><content type='html'>Needs no intro, dreadful stuff all around...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9nogvhfPzI/AAAAAAAABc8/_ysphMJ1aXU/s1600-h/women_docs_home_image.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9nogvhfPzI/AAAAAAAABc8/_ysphMJ1aXU/s200/women_docs_home_image.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177424895849479986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Woman Docs&lt;/span&gt;- The former hypochondriac in me can't resist this. It's like crack. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Woman Docs&lt;/span&gt; is as advertised, but it's a reality show that did its filming in 2001 and apparently nothing beyond it. That fact is set in stone and it hasn't stopped Lifetime Real Women from showing all of the 10 to 17 shows over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late Night Fun: &lt;/span&gt;I can imagine couples going to bed to "sleep" and young folks dreamin' and stuff. Me? I'm up at 2AM watching some old codger get a heart transplant and wondering if he's still "with us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9noZvhfPyI/AAAAAAAABc0/yqRhe2S7B-k/s1600-h/gaystraightortaken_240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9noZvhfPyI/AAAAAAAABc0/yqRhe2S7B-k/s200/gaystraightortaken_240.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177424775590395682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Gay, Straight or Taken&lt;/span&gt;-Talk about a show that has the chance to insult everyone. Gay, Straight or Taken is actually one of the worst shows I've ever seen. The premise is simple. A woman is matched with three guys and unknowingly, each guy is either gay, straight or taken. Oh, fun--where's Jim Lange when you need him. Sadly this train wreck has no host, just the most annoying women ever giving a voice to thoughts that should be a silent, inner monologue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Big Dummies:&lt;/span&gt; Regardless of the orientation, the guys here are often dolts, idiots even. The women are no better. These oddly chatty, camera ready and ultimately annoying women should have gotten their dating licenses revoked in 1999. Rarely do they ever have a slight perception of their surroundings always pick the wrong guy. Heh, just like real life I bet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9q4W_hfP4I/AAAAAAAABdk/QJjn8rFK7jw/s1600-h/jenner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9q4W_hfP4I/AAAAAAAABdk/QJjn8rFK7jw/s200/jenner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177653426764332930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well, well, well, looky here. Here's a pic of another pic of Jenner Evans from the first installment of this ghasty half n' hour. By far she was the most interesting contestant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9ocKfhfP2I/AAAAAAAABdU/OdOVak_y7_8/s1600-h/bb_120x90.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9ocKfhfP2I/AAAAAAAABdU/OdOVak_y7_8/s200/bb_120x90.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177481688202035042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Big Brother&lt;/span&gt;- Sad to see this solid entertainment in my "hate to watch" list. God knows what "season" this is, all I know is that it's dreadful. While it's certainly often not the best show on television, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Big Brother&lt;/span&gt; used to be actually interesting. Not this trip. The season was rushed because of the strike, its been on for weeks and now one gives a heck about it. The funniest news? The strike is over and they've still got to play these shitty shows. It's karmic punishment for canceling &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Joan of Arcadia &lt;/span&gt;15 long years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9oe7_hfP3I/AAAAAAAABdc/WnSEUAyOwdU/s1600-h/quarterlife.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R9oe7_hfP3I/AAAAAAAABdc/WnSEUAyOwdU/s200/quarterlife.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177484737628815218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Quarterlife- I don't know why I derived some much pleasure from the failure of this show. Here's the backstory. Marshall Herskovitz and Edward Zwick did an online series about the lives of people in their '20s. Herskovitz and Zwick actually did two of my favorite shows, My-So Called Life and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thirtysomething&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Quarterlife&lt;/span&gt; debuted as an online series. Quarterlife was bad as an online series. NBC picked up the show, it imploded--lasted one episode. Here's a clip from the pilot of the online incarnation. Wow, it's so, so, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ass....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lSeazwhILo4&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lSeazwhILo4&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/03/worst-shows-ive-ever-seen.html' title='The Worst Shows I&apos;ve Ever Seen (So Far This Year)'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=341039941281179910&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/341039941281179910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/341039941281179910'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/341039941281179910'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-1310425354479722299</id><published>2008-03-04T16:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T16:21:03.405-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year of the 8 Track</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R82VQ5i-PbI/AAAAAAAABcs/V34oZHJCjkg/s1600-h/eddie+kendricks.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R82VQ5i-PbI/AAAAAAAABcs/V34oZHJCjkg/s200/eddie+kendricks.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173955664476519858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R82VK5i-PaI/AAAAAAAABck/d40vWkl81bk/s1600-h/8+track.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R82VK5i-PaI/AAAAAAAABck/d40vWkl81bk/s200/8+track.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173955561397304738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got off the phone with ET and I had to cancel the upcoming 3 year anniversary on my diary/blog. I don't like the publicity. In any event, I'm going to be busy with my new pet project. Of late I've been putting on my thinking cap, trying to dream up ways to "give back" and "pay it forward." That lasted all of 3 minutes and I was back to thinking about me. The good news? I finally found my calling: Buying 8 tracks. I'm so excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's part of the first haul:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roberta Flack-Killing Me Softly (pink)&lt;br /&gt;The 5th Dimension-Greatest Hits on Earth (Ampex)&lt;br /&gt;Seals and Crofts-Diamond Girl&lt;br /&gt;Jim Croce-Don't Mess Around With Jim (original)&lt;br /&gt;Jim Croce-Life and Times (original)&lt;br /&gt;Carole King-Tapestry (A&amp;amp;M)&lt;br /&gt;The Carpenters-The Singles 1969-1973&lt;br /&gt;Blood Sweat and Tears-BST 4&lt;br /&gt;Blood Sweat and Tears-No Sweat&lt;br /&gt;Chicago-VII, VI, III, Live at Carnegie Hall (Carnegie Hall? What the....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is that for a days work. Actually I had seen these tapes around for a while, asked about them, 5 dollars--nifty case included. Out of all of them, the Roberta Flack is the nicest. It's gorgeous--and looks playable. The 5th Dimension is right there too. The Chicago 8 tracks (like the ones pictured),well, they just aren't going to play. They look good--but there's no way these things &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;aren't&lt;/span&gt; broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More Junk:&lt;/span&gt; For those times that I want to entertain a young lady, I also bought a few Ed Ames 8 tracks, Mantovani's Greatest Hits, Tom Jones's Best of and Andy Williams. Tell me I'm not ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found that batch of tapes completely satisfying. So much so I had to buy a few more. Here's a look at the second haul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Who-Face Dances&lt;br /&gt;Led Zeppelin-ZoSo (Ampex)&lt;br /&gt;Led Zeppelin-s/t (Ampex)&lt;br /&gt;The Beatles-Hey Jude&lt;br /&gt;Eddie Kendricks-Vintage '78&lt;br /&gt;David Crosby-If I Could Only Remember My Name (Ampex)&lt;br /&gt;Graham Nash-Songs For Beginners (Ampex)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, I did it again. These were a little more, 10 dollars total. Money well spent. It's not like I'm throwing money away on plastic/conversation pieces. The Who 8 track is a Columbia House edition, that means a different cover, nice. The Ampex tapes are all the originals, sturdy as always. They are the best bet The Eddie Kendricks tapes came from a lot I first saw 15 years ago. There was about 20 of them still sealed. I wasn't mature enough to buy them then. Now, I treated myself to two. I opened one and guess what? It's as tight as a drum! Woo hoo, recycle bait...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;They're Everywhere!:&lt;/span&gt; I was searching eBay and saw that someone in my area had a sealed Eddie Kendricks Vintage '78 8 track too. What are the chances?</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/03/year-of-8-track.html' title='The Year of the 8 Track'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=1310425354479722299&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/1310425354479722299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/1310425354479722299'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/1310425354479722299'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-7852965063869035654</id><published>2008-02-22T16:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T15:59:32.252-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mark Steines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pat O&apos; Brien'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kevin Frazier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the Insider'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Donny Osmond'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Entertainment Tonight'/><title type='text'>The Donny Osmond Chronicles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R75dfu7JNKI/AAAAAAAABb8/h6vVKb3qGIU/s1600-h/103501-Donny_Osmond.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R75dfu7JNKI/AAAAAAAABb8/h6vVKb3qGIU/s200/103501-Donny_Osmond.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169672222021334178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had so many posts planned, but it seems a pressing matter has reached my news desk. It deals with Donny Osmond. In a disturbing turn of events, it seems Donny has become an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ubiquitous&lt;/span&gt; presence on TV. How this happen?After a break that felt like a decade and a half, one Donald Osmond was called back into the ranks of people who are seen &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;daily?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like every despot, there's a ton of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;collateral&lt;/span&gt; damages. Let's review what Donny Osmond's resurgence has done to a few folks who might look familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R75hL-7JNMI/AAAAAAAABcM/Vq8sXKVAmww/s1600-h/kevin+frazier.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R75hL-7JNMI/AAAAAAAABcM/Vq8sXKVAmww/s200/kevin+frazier.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169676280765428930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Kevin Frazier: Marginalized&lt;/span&gt;- Frazier seemed to be the go to guy in case we "lost" Mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Steines&lt;/span&gt;. Not so much now. With Osmond leap frogging over him, the details are grim. Frazier is locked on the weekend shift where they either do celebrity diets or they interview one of the Golden Girls for the thousandth time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Low Lights&lt;/span&gt;: Most depressing, Frazier was assigned to report on play video games with some 17 year old who came in 305&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; on American Idol. His fake smiles almost shattered his teeth into little bits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R75j4e7JNNI/AAAAAAAABcU/kXP_fu2uM3U/s1600-h/mark+steines.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R75j4e7JNNI/AAAAAAAABcU/kXP_fu2uM3U/s200/mark+steines.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169679244292863186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Steines&lt;/span&gt;- Rendered Even More Superfluous&lt;/span&gt;- Let's face it, Mark &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Steines&lt;/span&gt; was never an exciting reporter. His connections are non existent, not a whole heck of a lot of charisma. The only reason why he got the ET job was because unlike Bob &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Goen&lt;/span&gt;, he wasn't Bob &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Goen&lt;/span&gt;-y. Now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Steines&lt;/span&gt; is even worse. With a personality like Donny Osmond, it makes Mark that much pointless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Note:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Steines&lt;/span&gt;  wasn't invited to the awards gala pictured. He was "taken away" shortly after for "observation."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Diagnosis:&lt;/span&gt; Mark Steines is criminally insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R75mY-7JNOI/AAAAAAAABcc/Ohi4OJJO1Uw/s1600-h/280_pobrien_serious_080208_eagostini_2914768.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R75mY-7JNOI/AAAAAAAABcc/Ohi4OJJO1Uw/s200/280_pobrien_serious_080208_eagostini_2914768.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169682001661867234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Pat O' Brien: O' Broken&lt;/span&gt;- Pat O' Brien was flying high after his rehab stint. In fact, I flew over to his house, we went to a few disco parties and I was impressed by Pat's commitment to sobriety. Now that's a switch. Take a gander at that sad face on the left. Sadly, Pat's demons started rearing their ugly heads the same time Donny Osmond started making appearances on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the Insider&lt;/span&gt; too. The picture on the left was taken at my birthday party.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/02/donny-osmond-chronicles.html' title='The Donny Osmond Chronicles'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=7852965063869035654&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/7852965063869035654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/7852965063869035654'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/7852965063869035654'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-541495567660527854</id><published>2008-02-12T01:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T18:56:21.375-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='You Tube'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Dramatics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tyrone Davis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='George Burns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bob Crane'/><title type='text'>Stuff In My YouTube History</title><content type='html'>I was stumbling around YouTube when I noticed the following notice...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;These are your recently watched videos. We respect your privacy, and do not share this information with anyone. You can clear your history by clicking the 'Clear Viewing History' link at bottom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Done! Now one needs to know what videos I've watched--or do they? Heh, heh, heh (coughs) ha, ha...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZzY5DuH91xk&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZzY5DuH91xk&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; Bob Crane-Check out Swingin' Bob Crane on the skins. They just weren't whistling dixie when they said he could play, he actually could.  This is a clip from him on the Red Skelton Hour from 1967. Bob Crane liked playing the drums. You know what else Bob Crane liked? Having sex and filming it with the "state-of-the-art" film/video products of the day. Well, let's not remember him for that or his unctuousness, but then again, it's impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bqUpIt52mCU&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bqUpIt52mCU&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; Tyrone Davis-There It Is- This is a clip from Tyrone Davis at probably the Kit Kat/Boom Boom Lounge. Here Davis is lip-syncing to his 1972 classic "There It Is." Given his satiny, tasseled ensemble and the synthesizers, this was videoed years after the song was a hit. It's a great clip anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Favorite Line:&lt;/span&gt; "I followed them to a little 'ol place/Where they sit right down/And ordered a taste." Hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jACxYHvAkYU&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jACxYHvAkYU&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; The Dramatics-I'm Going By The Stars in Your Eyes (1976)- You know, I don't give a heck about that old zodiac either. I love to pretend to actually like new music, but I don't, hate 95% of it. This is the kind of stuff I usually listen to. This clip not only features one of my favorite groups, but also my favorite era for Soul Train. On this track, the singers are the late Lenny Mayes, he leads it, LJ Reynolds and Ron Banks--the dude with the high voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Now: The Dramatics are one of those groups that are much loved. How much? Here's a comment from a YouTuber contrasting the guys to Earth Wind and Fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Its all bout the dramatics so the elements can go sit down cause they ain't shit..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MHlRa-RPjWE&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MHlRa-RPjWE&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; Little Richard- On Jimi Hendrix (1973) Before Little Richard found a happy balance between the sacred and profane, he made for an often uncomfortable presence on talk shows and the like. This is the peak of that era. This clip is from the 1973 documentary film &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jimi.&lt;/span&gt; As we can clearly see here, Little is far way from the church at this point. And how many catchphrases/witticisms are in this? About 100.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Transcription:&lt;/span&gt; Between me and GTL66, a fellow commenter on YouTube, I, I mean, we give you this, committed to print.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"...I got ta take ya higha! Not off a some cocaine uh uh uh some piece of grass or some uh uh heron, but Jimi was gonna take em higha than that!!!"&lt;/span&gt; That's oddly profound--and true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MhYBDCXkTyE&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MhYBDCXkTyE&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt; George Burns-Fixing a Hole- Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band- After all of those clips, it was time for a real classic featuring one of the premiere singers of our time. Thank God this was filmed, we'll always be able to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Recording Info:&lt;/span&gt; This take was different from the one that appeared on the 1978 soundtrack. This is one of the best performances ever.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/02/stuff-in-my-youtube-history.html' title='Stuff In My YouTube History'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=541495567660527854&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/541495567660527854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/541495567660527854'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/541495567660527854'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-5589050575392893356</id><published>2008-01-30T00:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T00:47:47.994-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Bad TV</title><content type='html'>Sometimes there's no room for intros, just exasperated sighs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R57VO7tP3QI/AAAAAAAABZ0/IprMrAJMKmU/s1600-h/regis_philbin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R57VO7tP3QI/AAAAAAAABZ0/IprMrAJMKmU/s200/regis_philbin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160796675535527170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;See Regis Cook, Or Not...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today probably marks the final time I'm ever going to watch Regis and Kelly Lee. It all started innocently enough with a dreaded cooking segment. Some doofus with spiky blonde hair was cooking up some "healthy" Superbowl food when I saw that Regis was clearly having some trouble. Shuffling about with a faraway gaze, this made for uncomfortable TV. And as for Regis, it's not like I haven't watched the show since 1992 but it looks like he's just had it and Kelly is just breaking his spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Suggestions:&lt;/span&gt; Shoot Regis out of a canon (with or without a parachute) if he comes back down, it's meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R57TOLtP3PI/AAAAAAAABZs/9cZSjr7LUMA/s1600-h/125143237.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R57TOLtP3PI/AAAAAAAABZs/9cZSjr7LUMA/s200/125143237.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160794463627369714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Dr. Phil- Baggy Pants!&lt;/span&gt; Sadly that was the show's real title. After showing himself to be an unlicensed blowhard/blockhead with the Britney Spears tragedy, Dr. Phil is clearly running out of road. The big issue in Dr. Phil's increasingly zany world? Youths and oversized jeans. The horrors...This topic is specious on its own so Phil had to add other "gunk" like racial issues, hip-hop, gats, whining mothers and Al Sharpton into the mix. All of this is an attempt to make McGraw look sane in comparison. Like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; going to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Note:&lt;/span&gt; It seems that Dr. Phil, the TV show has gotten further away from Harpo Productions and that's given the show a certain sucky and circus-like atmosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Prediction:&lt;/span&gt; Dr. Phil will be in prison one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R6AKQrtP3RI/AAAAAAAABZ8/CAqMKvKeZ38/s1600-h/2006-09-27-CBSSmith.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R6AKQrtP3RI/AAAAAAAABZ8/CAqMKvKeZ38/s200/2006-09-27-CBSSmith.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161136454693281042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Harry Smith- Crazy/Insane- &lt;/span&gt;I got a bad report about Harry Smith. On the day Ted Kennedy endorsed Senator Barack Obama, Kennedy went to the black hole known as the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;CBS Early Show.&lt;/span&gt; First off, it was good of Ted to show up, the Early Show, who does except for the losers on Survivor. The interview itself? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Not&lt;/span&gt; so wonderful. Smith alluded to Obama being a change agent and talked junk with Teddy about some looming danger. Really &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;all &lt;/span&gt;presidential candidates are agents of change. The problem is most of their ideas are shitty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R6AN57tP3SI/AAAAAAAABaE/otqddmrqp6M/s1600-h/ted+kennedy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R6AN57tP3SI/AAAAAAAABaE/otqddmrqp6M/s200/ted+kennedy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161140461897768226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R6AOArtP3TI/AAAAAAAABaM/Rq06q8fUr18/s1600-h/HannahStorm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R6AOArtP3TI/AAAAAAAABaM/Rq06q8fUr18/s200/HannahStorm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161140577861885234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thankfully Teddy didn't placate Smith's crazy talk and in a karmic twist, Kennedy and the recently exited Hannah Storm beat Smith into a pulp and broke his glasses into little bits.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/01/bad-bad-tv.html' title='Bad Bad TV'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=5589050575392893356&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/5589050575392893356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/5589050575392893356'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/5589050575392893356'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-2059423594386318500</id><published>2008-01-15T01:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T18:58:05.901-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jeff Bridges'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In Search of America'/><title type='text'>Kind of Watching It and Hating It DVD's: In Search of America</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R4mK6_WNj7I/AAAAAAAABZk/JMFw90cF868/s1600-h/searchamerica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R4mK6_WNj7I/AAAAAAAABZk/JMFw90cF868/s200/searchamerica.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154803994543886258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've finally found it, the worst movie I've ever seen. It's been a few squeakers but nothing is going to come this close to hell. Remember the title, "In Search of America" and proceed with caution and maybe some bio hazard gear for "safety's sake."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeff Bridges played a disillusioned college dropout who wants to "find himself." For this movie, that route takes a circuitous turn as not only does his father want to go, so does his mom and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;grandmom&lt;/span&gt;. Movie &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;over. &lt;/span&gt; What would have been cool would be to have seen the different mores  and the generation gap between father and son. Didn't happen. His parents in this tragedy are Carl "The Donna Reed Show" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Betz&lt;/span&gt; and Vera Miles. Sometimes I wish it was all a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather quickly, the family takes a Grade A contraption across "America" and along the way they stop at a place best described as Woodstock/Purgatory. In short order, the muddy stomping ground is filled with already dated caricatures. While the movie was released in 1971, I hope for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; sake it was filmed a good 3 years before it was seen. Vulgar best describes such a miss in capturing the ethos of the Woodstock Generation. And really, are parents really going to be out their "grooving" with a bunch of dopers? I don't think so, especially not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Grandma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Spoiler Alert:&lt;/span&gt; A love story is also grafted onto this. Bridges meets up with one of the more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;whimsical&lt;/span&gt; hippies at camp and promptly put family time on ice to moon at her. The problem? She's not well. So much so her parents (Howard Duff and Kim Hunter) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bogart&lt;/span&gt; the PA system looking for her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;More Distressing News:&lt;/span&gt; Sal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Mineo&lt;/span&gt; is in this too. God help me. Clearly a full-fledged escapee from features, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Mineo&lt;/span&gt; turns in a performance that's almost prescient in its hokeyness. He's basically Lieutenant Dan without the war. Thankfully, his screen time was brief. His &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;hippy&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; get-up was enough to make me wrench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A Disclaimer:&lt;/span&gt; This barker has been kicking around the 1.00 line for quite sometime. To appeal to the unsuspecting, the cover art depicts a much older Jeff Bridges. Don't believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rating &lt;/span&gt;**1/2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/01/kind-of-watching-it-and-hating-it-dvds.html' title='Kind of Watching It and Hating It DVD&apos;s: In Search of America'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=2059423594386318500&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/2059423594386318500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/2059423594386318500'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/2059423594386318500'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-3206643792402991036</id><published>2008-01-03T11:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T11:34:32.624-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TV Disasters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R30MjfWNj3I/AAAAAAAABZE/big5Lq_TvKU/s1600-h/Television.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R30MjfWNj3I/AAAAAAAABZE/big5Lq_TvKU/s200/Television.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151287352631332722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;TV is whack as the kids used to say. I In the past few weeks I've had an atrocious time watching, half-watching and sleeping on some of the most ass programming known to man. Is this how it's going to be, am I cursed? Yep....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R3m5DPWNjxI/AAAAAAAABYU/Z_IAflFvxs8/s1600-h/ivil_live_header.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R3m5DPWNjxI/AAAAAAAABYU/Z_IAflFvxs8/s200/ivil_live_header.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150351114185314066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; In the Loop with iVillage.&lt;/span&gt; Love the title, it's like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cutting Edge :Netscape&lt;/span&gt;. I stumbled on this crime aganist men rather innocently. I thought it was a infomercial and was hoping they were selling really hot toaster ovens or those little old-fashioned looking record players. No such luck. This is a show. You know these folks, Apprentice vets Eriki Vetrini, Bill Rancic and comedienne/actress Kim Coles. Apparently I'm late to the party and this show has been on for quite some time. I don't know why And really, if you have a show with Bill Rancic, you're so, so out of the loop, really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R3m6Z_WNjyI/AAAAAAAABYc/tYDjlYmiQc8/s1600-h/mervspan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R3m6Z_WNjyI/AAAAAAAABYc/tYDjlYmiQc8/s200/mervspan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150352604538965794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Merv Griffin's Crosswords&lt;/span&gt;. Of course the build-up was gag worthy. They acted like Merv Griffin's last word was Crossword and they're carrying on without him. Well, they are--and we don't have to watch it. The host here is Ty Treadway, who co-hosted Soap Talk with the lovely Lisa Rinna. Not exactly the life of the party, Treadway makes Bert Convy seem positively scintillating. There's no soap stars here, just a show as old-timey as a stack of Louis Jordan albums.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Plea:&lt;/span&gt; Cancel This.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R3nAcvWNjzI/AAAAAAAABYk/klvu1gM27PQ/s1600-h/38322.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R3nAcvWNjzI/AAAAAAAABYk/klvu1gM27PQ/s200/38322.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150359248853372722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Price is Right&lt;/span&gt;-Singing Drew Carey on to host The Price is Right seemed like a great idea on paper. The actuality? Not so much. Who would think that Carey would be this annoying? He's the corniest game show host ever.His main problem? He just won't stop talking. Carey just goes on and on near that big, big spinning wheel, during Plinko, pretty much everywhere. He does the same time on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Power of Ten&lt;/span&gt;. Plain and simple, Drew needs to button it up so the contestants can make those life and death decisions, in peace...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What's Drew Staring At:&lt;/span&gt; Me coming after him with a fungo bat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R3w81vWNj0I/AAAAAAAABYs/n5mAlShoL_E/s1600-h/0_61_barker_bob.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R3w81vWNj0I/AAAAAAAABYs/n5mAlShoL_E/s200/0_61_barker_bob.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151058967745367874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The Devil's Right Hand Man...Despite my diary entries about Bob Barker he was a great TV host. Of course, time had coarsened his soul and made him a reprobate but I guess we all have issues...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R30ImvWNj1I/AAAAAAAABY0/5FwbS5N2VQI/s1600-h/the-singing-bee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R30ImvWNj1I/AAAAAAAABY0/5FwbS5N2VQI/s200/the-singing-bee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151283010419396434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R30Ir_WNj2I/AAAAAAAABY8/Olj9uN_5jm8/s1600-h/WayneBrady-thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R30Ir_WNj2I/AAAAAAAABY8/Olj9uN_5jm8/s200/WayneBrady-thumb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151283100613709666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Filed under Those Effing Singing Shows- It's clear that we've declined as a culture, both NBC's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Singing Bee&lt;/span&gt; and Fox's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't Forget the Lyrics &lt;/span&gt;have proven to be hits. Gack! If I had to choose, I'd go with Wayne Brady's show. The contestants on their are often inane to say the least. They are just so eager to lock in lyrics they have to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; are dead wrong. My favorite had to be some woman who sang the lyrics to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://rds.yahoo.com/_ylt=A0geu.vUCn1HkQcAtvdXNyoA/SIG=14jg9him3/EXP=1199463508/**http%3a//search.yahoo.com/search%3fei=UTF-8%26p=Lynyrd%2bSkynyrd%26SpellState=n-3805108492_q-xkol3UCdmqWwl7ZUdr2FGAAAAA%2540%2540"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Lynyrd Skynyrd's&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;Sweet Home Alabama..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"My conscience doesn't bother me, does your conscience bother you..."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that's it, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Singing Bee&lt;/span&gt; (Joey Fatone not pictured) even dragged out the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Brady Bunch's &lt;/span&gt;Barry Williams and Maureen McCormick to sing, what else, the Brady Bunch theme. Oh how thrilling--and very, very sad...</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2008/01/tv-disasters.html' title='TV Disasters'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=3206643792402991036&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/3206643792402991036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/3206643792402991036'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/3206643792402991036'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-2731286057267436852</id><published>2007-12-21T23:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T01:26:18.017-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies To Fall To Sleep On</title><content type='html'>You know I've seen so many movies and now I'm into multi-tasking. I like watching movies and falling asleep to them. Here's two recent favorites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2ySEfWNjwI/AAAAAAAABYM/7NtIQPz3ujM/s1600-h/The+Boost.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2ySEfWNjwI/AAAAAAAABYM/7NtIQPz3ujM/s200/The+Boost.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146649080009428738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Boost&lt;/span&gt; (1988) I hadn't seen this movie in over 15 years. Oddly enough, it did remain somewhere in my consciousness. This was a movie about a one-time small business man and husband who became rich and acquired a drug habit. His wife Linda  (Sean Young) got one too. Watching this again, I saw just how fast Lenny (Woods) got hooked. He was down in the mouth, whining to quintessential '80s scum (John Kapelos)one minute, hitting the powder and high on life the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Boost&lt;/span&gt;, unlike other movies, decided to kill two birds with one stone and have Young's character and Woods on strung out together. Soon all of the money was up their noses and they lost everything, including a baby that perished as Linda was highed up and fell down like a jackass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oddities&lt;/span&gt;: Despite wanting to see James Woods get worse and Sean Young before she got tagged as a crazy, I couldn't stay awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Timeline:&lt;/span&gt; 2:30 AM to 4 something AM. I woke up at 11. I think I missed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2x-wvWNjvI/AAAAAAAABYE/stOAk22Yfg8/s1600-h/sally+field.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2x-wvWNjvI/AAAAAAAABYE/stOAk22Yfg8/s200/sally+field.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146627849986084594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Smokey and the Bandit II-&lt;/span&gt; (1980) It's always fun to see a couple getting tired of one another. In a movie and committed to film forever? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Even better&lt;/span&gt;. That's the deal with this dreadful 1980 sequel to 1977's classic, Smokey and the Bandit. This movie barely has a plot, a distressingly perfunctory Burt Reynolds, and elephant and Dom DeLuise. It was doomed. Every gag failed and the most embarrassing one, Sheriff Buford T. Justice's brothers (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;all &lt;/span&gt;Jackie Gleason) joining the hunt for Bandit is as vile as a looking in a friend's hurl bucket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oddities:&lt;/span&gt;  Despite seeing Sally Field in tight, tight jeans, Burt Reynolds's mix of bravado and self-loathing put me out like a light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Timeline: &lt;/span&gt;3 AM or so to 3:40. Admittedly my mental powers weren't too sharp at this hour. I think I channel surfed by the last thing I saw was the Bandit visiting Uncle Phil and on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" tabindex="10" onclick="return false;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2007/12/movies-to-fall-to-sleep-by.html' title='Movies To Fall To Sleep On'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=2731286057267436852&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/2731286057267436852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/2731286057267436852'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/2731286057267436852'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-6628958694695453222</id><published>2007-12-13T02:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T02:00:16.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coal For Christmas: Celebrity Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DWb4UxdBI/AAAAAAAABX8/BRDkBheL-Vs/s1600-h/Coal-11x14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DWb4UxdBI/AAAAAAAABX8/BRDkBheL-Vs/s200/Coal-11x14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143346548921431058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Look, look...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a man who is munificent. I'm always helpful, I often try to make a nice appearance. When I fart in public, I always say excuse me or "I didn't do that, did you?" The holidays are a time where I like to give presents. This year, like others the list has been narrowed down. This year, I sadly have to give coal to those people I feel aren't doing their best. I don't feel bad about it, in fact, I'm happy to do so, that's right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DPaIUxc7I/AAAAAAAABXM/bwY_sfQBX3k/s1600-h/1212_dog_splash_275.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DPaIUxc7I/AAAAAAAABXM/bwY_sfQBX3k/s200/1212_dog_splash_275.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143338822275265458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The Four Tops- It was painful to add the Four Tops to the list. They've entertained for years, in fact they asked me to be a member to make it The Five Tops. Sadly I have to turn down that dream of a lifetime. The venerable music group let themselves be hoodwinked into a photo op with base racist Duane "The Dog" Chapman. The Four Tops make me sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verdict: A bushel of coal will be sent to each member, even&lt;br /&gt;surrogate dad Abdul Fakir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Picture stolen from TMZ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DTa4Uxc-I/AAAAAAAABXk/aHEvEHCG6YA/s1600-h/jeff+conaway.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DTa4Uxc-I/AAAAAAAABXk/aHEvEHCG6YA/s200/jeff+conaway.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143343233206678498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jeff &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Conaway&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pictured edited for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;childrens&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; And no, you don't want to see what he's doing. Really, you'd think that Bobby Wheeler would have the good sense to leave that devil cane alone. Think again. The picture is from a quite dispiriting clip of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Conaway&lt;/span&gt; "taking a hit" of powered cocaine. He's turning his house into Studio 54, that's not right...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to give &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Conaway&lt;/span&gt; a Brut &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;gift set&lt;/span&gt; but when I heard about him falling off the wagon I decided to order him a gross of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;coal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DS44Uxc9I/AAAAAAAABXc/mHbUX7VmOSk/s1600-h/50+cent,+reporter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DS44Uxc9I/AAAAAAAABXc/mHbUX7VmOSk/s200/50+cent,+reporter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143342649091126226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 50 Cent- Despite his braggadocio, 50 Cent's career is on the fast track of downward trajectory. He hasn't had a real hit to speak of from "Curtis" but a clip surfaced that allegedly showed "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Fiddy&lt;/span&gt;" getting his hits the old fashioned way, backstage and from a mound of little white grains. As the clip begins, this death defying reporter bursts into Cent's dressing room. Smooth...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 2: Sadly after this interview, 50 had to "do away" with aforementioned reporter. That fact and his backstage &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;shenanigans&lt;/span&gt; leave me no choice but to offer good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' coal as a token of glad tidings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DU5oUxc_I/AAAAAAAABXs/rZ8gReRkTBY/s1600-h/tyra_banks_weight207.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DU5oUxc_I/AAAAAAAABXs/rZ8gReRkTBY/s200/tyra_banks_weight207.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143344860999283698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Tyra&lt;/span&gt; Banks- Sadly after a few rounds of therapy, I've found that my dislike for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Tyra&lt;/span&gt; Banks has increased not decreased as was hoped. I don't know what I hate more, her dismissive attitude, how she tries to be funny or the fact that she loves to hack off aspiring models hair like an evil &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;stepmom&lt;/span&gt;. Why ask why. Coal For Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DWKoUxdAI/AAAAAAAABX0/vJNaSQ5SIlo/s1600-h/katherine-heigl-with-dog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R2DWKoUxdAI/AAAAAAAABX0/vJNaSQ5SIlo/s200/katherine-heigl-with-dog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143346252568687618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Katherine &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Heigl&lt;/span&gt;- I made a pledge to stop watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Grey's Anatomy&lt;/span&gt; after Isaiah Washington was excused for running his fool mouth. I've forgiven everyone in the cast, Doug Ross, Sandra Oh, Steve Kiley, everyone except for Izzy. Izzy/Katherine &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Heigl&lt;/span&gt; still gets my ire because she's a pain in the ass. The worst part is she has a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;tendency&lt;/span&gt; to talk about Hollywood business without lying and says what's on her mind. Is she crazy? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;cOaL&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2007/12/coal-for-christmas-celebrity-edition.html' title='Coal For Christmas: Celebrity Edition'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=6628958694695453222&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/6628958694695453222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/6628958694695453222'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/6628958694695453222'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-1785620639650823748</id><published>2007-12-03T22:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T18:59:22.491-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dreft'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tang'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Campho-Phenique'/><title type='text'>Junk From the Grocer's Shelves</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OSnIUxc5I/AAAAAAAABWc/h9qtnbNYwq8/s1600-R/scatman.jpg.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OSnIUxc5I/AAAAAAAABWc/R1hy9_RUC7w/s200/scatman.jpg.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139612800707031954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Oh hi. I was out shopping with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Scatman&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Crothers&lt;/span&gt; again. It's been my regret that some products never had aggressive ad campaigns. You know what's worse? Products that fade from the TV airwaves like Tang and Tarn-X. And for the record, I did enjoy that short-lived Tang/Tarn-X drink mix. Good drinking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OSIYUxc4I/AAAAAAAABWU/uWnc52tYfzA/s1600-R/campo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OSIYUxc4I/AAAAAAAABWU/X94UG49sHdk/s200/campo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139612272426054530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here's a blast from the past. Would you believe they still actually make this stuff? Who knew. Again, here's a product I haven't seen a commercial for in close to 100 years. Time is funny. I thought that this "antiseptic gel" was for cold sores, herpes, general tooth aches. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Heh&lt;/span&gt;, no wonder why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Orajel&lt;/span&gt; didn't work on my twisted ankle...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dream Slogan&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"When you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hurted&lt;/span&gt; yourself, there was always &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Campo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Fenique&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OQiYUxc2I/AAAAAAAABWE/mxrOOcnRJC4/s1600-R/img10001893833.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OQiYUxc2I/AAAAAAAABWE/f5i1W4ygfpE/s200/img10001893833.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139610520079397730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I knew that the world was changing when I didn't see any more spots for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Dreft&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Dreft&lt;/span&gt; has been around for eons and when you smell it, you think of covered wagons, homemade ice cream, the ancient ruins, you know, simpler times. I don't think any hi-tech commercial will make this junk seem new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tag Line:&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Dreft&lt;/span&gt;: Smells like old man..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OQZoUxc1I/AAAAAAAABV8/_aOFAaMAb5c/s1600-R/octagon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OQZoUxc1I/AAAAAAAABV8/0jXLujFdhBc/s200/octagon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139610369755542354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All day/All night/Octagon..." Now that's an impressive little ditty and unfortunately it's something we never heard. During the '70s and '80s you'd always seen a lot of Colgate/Palmolive products with hi-tech ads but I never good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;ol&lt;/span&gt;' Octagon. It remains the perfect choice on those days you're down to pennies and don't want to wash your dishes with shampoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Made-Up Slogan:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"...Hey, Big Spender, spring for the extra 50 cents and get something that actually works..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OQ34Uxc3I/AAAAAAAABWM/3KF4hAvAiDM/s1600-R/arm-amp-hammer-light-fresh-scent-deodorizing-air-freshener-with-baking-soda-7-oz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1OQ34Uxc3I/AAAAAAAABWM/xbmyY5-MlMQ/s200/arm-amp-hammer-light-fresh-scent-deodorizing-air-freshener-with-baking-soda-7-oz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139610889446585202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the good stuff. If you ever want any household odor to be covered up by a worse household odor, you need Arm &amp;amp; Hammer spray. I find Arm and Hammer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Natutal&lt;/span&gt; Fresh the smart choice.  It's great for when you want to  gussy up your ramshackle docile for big business in the bathroom or elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Company Spin:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"The same smell you remember, powdery shit."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1SyJ4Uxc6I/AAAAAAAABWk/FYPSgtRJ0lw/s1600-R/Tang.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R1SyJ4Uxc6I/AAAAAAAABWk/rPQEaIeGaIk/s200/Tang.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139928957544657826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Everyone loves Tang. Tang was created in the '50s and hit the shelves in 1959. I'd say it hit its peak in the '70s and all of the cool houses had that glass jar of goodness. The aftertaste? Just a part of life. For some ungodly reason Tang has held steady making it through Hawaiian Punch in the big can years to the juice box era. Despite its sales, I haven't seen a commercial for this in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update: The makers of Tang recently changed the recipe,  subtracting the overwhelming sugar quotient and adding &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;artifical&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;sweetners&lt;/span&gt;. To me, it still tastes as fake as it always did just less good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Truth in Advertising:&lt;/span&gt; Aspartame and Fruition will kill us all.</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/2007/12/junk-from-grocers-shelves.html' title='Junk From the Grocer&apos;s Shelves'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11572102&amp;postID=1785620639650823748&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://popcultureidiot.blogspot.com/feeds/1785620639650823748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/1785620639650823748'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11572102/posts/default/1785620639650823748'/><author><name>Jason Elias</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16876030936096946286</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11572102.post-8019913898972883183</id><published>2007-11-23T13:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T13:44:05.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Time Commercial Annoyances</title><content type='html'>Commercials have remained pretty annoying to me. Here's a few of the ones that have given me the most nightmares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0UVPg6CeuI/AAAAAAAABU8/uiYfFe03OJY/s1600-h/gordon_jump.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0UVPg6CeuI/AAAAAAAABU8/uiYfFe03OJY/s200/gordon_jump.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135534306361506530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Gordon Jump-The Maytag Repairman&lt;/span&gt;- Jump was best known as Arthur Carlson on the classic sitcom &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;WKRP in Cincinnati. &lt;/span&gt;If you're a total jackass like me you'll also remember him as the creepy bike shop owner in a "special" two-part episode of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Diff'rent Strokes&lt;/span&gt;. While replacing Jesse White as the Maytag Repairman resulted in a nice hunk of change, Mr. Carlson really couldn't cut ice as a commercial icon and his commercials eventually faded from the airwaves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0UaHQ6CevI/AAAAAAAABVE/zvP4j4kTi4c/s1600-h/bobby+short.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0UaHQ6CevI/AAAAAAAABVE/zvP4j4kTi4c/s200/bobby+short.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135539662185724658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Bobby Short-Charlie&lt;/span&gt;- I was surfing, looking for some clips of Shelley Hack on YouTube when I shocked by a voice of the past, Bobby Short's cringe-worthy bellow.  For some reason I always found Bobby Short annoying. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Although Short acquired quite an audience,  the sound of Bobby Short's voice makes me have "spells."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0ZjbA6CewI/AAAAAAAABVM/6ebHPwNkxWE/s1600-h/dell.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0ZjbA6CewI/AAAAAAAABVM/6ebHPwNkxWE/s200/dell.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135901740813679362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Dell- The Dell Guy&lt;/span&gt;- It was another time. The "Dude You're Getting A Dell" made his debut in the late '90s. We grew accustomed to his TV presence for decades really. With his stoner-like talk and approachable demeanor, he attempted to make computers "cool." It didn't work for me, I'd never use one. Then as quickly as it began, it ended all because Young Ben Curtis was caught with the ganja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Good News:&lt;/span&gt; We'll have YouTube videos to remember him by...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0ZklQ6CexI/AAAAAAAABVU/MvYT9XAUOF0/s1600-h/madge.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0ZklQ6CexI/AAAAAAAABVU/MvYT9XAUOF0/s200/madge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135903016418966290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Madge-Palmolive&lt;/span&gt;- For some reason, I have a profound attachment to Palmolive. Some might think it's "sick" or "crazy." As much as I like Palmolive, I hated Madge. She remained a mystery. I never really had a handle on what she did, all I know is she's dunk someone's hands in a bowl of water and say, "You're soaking in it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Update&lt;/span&gt;: In her last spot , a drunken Madge "mistakenly" used a bottle marked Acme Skin Destroyer as her "friends" were soaking in it. Litigation is still pending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0ZpXw6CeyI/AAAAAAAABVc/VXrKaiJQuFY/s1600-h/money+store.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xNO59OxlB8I/R0ZpXw6CeyI/AAAAAAAABVc/VXrKaiJQuFY/s200/mon