Monday, November 30, 2009

Coming To The Food Network This Fall

Happy Thanksgiving you fat bastards!

What did you do over your Thanksgiving? I don't really care, I just understand that's how normal humans interact before talking about themselves, and so that is what I'm doing right here. ....and ....I'm ....done. Back to me.

While you were busy filling your already constricted arteries with transfat, cholesterol and Indian tears, I was working.

That's right, I know you're shocked that I would be toiling over the holiday, but zip it mouth-breather. I was working on a new show (yet to be purchased / shown any interest by) The Food Network entitled, Cooking with Lisa.

Here's the deal: charismatic young gentleman cooks with his crotchety, yet warm-hearted sister. Ethos, pathos and IBS-generated complications ensue.

What's that? You want to read the treatment? Pshaw! Screw treatments -you ready to get your mind blown? Here are the first (4) episodes. Check it.

Cooking with Lisa

Easy TV executives, slow down, you're jamming up my Sprint 4G Network. You wanna talk to me you must go through proper channels.

Till next week, I'm Patrick Garrigan -and I'mma gonna be rich!

THIS JUST IN: Befuddled deep frier / Food Network Star, Paula Deen has been replaced by me. That's right. I'm taking her time-slot...

...and that ham.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

You Want A Miracle on 34th Street?

It will be a miracle Santa doesn't die of Swine Flu.

Haul out the holly -it may not even be Thanksgiving yet- but as I made my way down 5th Avenue this weekend, it appears we need a little Christmas right this very fucking minute! Driven by our insatiable need for holiday Americana, we send New York's Jolliest on the front lines of biological terror: disease-ridden children.

Let me be perfectly clear, I hold no special place in my heart for Santa. I mean sure, he looks great on Christmas cards and those creepily awesome '60's claymation movies, but when you really break it down, he's only a hop, skip and a jump away from clowns, and we all know how I feel about that.

That said, The Sacramento Bee (which can't really be the name of the paper, can it?) is reporting that this year Santa's everywhere are worried about getting ye ole swine flu, and want to get an early dose of H1N1 vaccination. The story has lots of quotes and facts and stuff, but the gist of it is that the Santa's aren't eligible for early vaccination because they aren't babies, aren't old enough, and don't generally don't have pre-existing medical conditions, as self-loathing doesn't count. The Catch 22 of this situation however, is that generally Santa's are fat fuckers who can grow to be as large as 700 pounds in some Midwestern states. Being this overweight makes them highly susceptible to the disease. Unfortunately for Kris Kringle, that doesn't fall under the realm of a medical condition, and more often puts Santa in the gross slob column.

So what is Santa to do? All it takes is one buggery, sneezey, wheezy, sticky Santophile to come over and give the 'ol Cookie Eater a tug on the love handles and suddenly, just like a pathogenic Oprah, "You Get A Swine Flu! You Get A Swine Flu! You Get A Swine Flu!"

Desperate times call for desperate measures:

"Update" The Lore of Santa

Naughty or Nice? For far too long, children have been coddled by Santa. It's time that we bring Santa into modernity by creating Santa The Decider. Rather than sitting on Santa's lap, each child will be given the opportunity approach the bench and make the case as to whether they had been naughty or nice that year. Those who make a convincing case to Santa will be rewarded by having all their Christmas wishes come true. Those deemed unconvincing and/or incoherent will be found naughty, awarded nothing and must return to the mall at a later date for sentencing.

This is a really good idea on two levels. First and most important, it keeps Santa out of range of those contaminated kids. Secondly, let's be honest, it's usually the most sucky kids who get all the cool toys. This serves to create a true holiday meritocracy.

Santa Scrubs!

I can hear you all now, "don't change the story of Santa, I love him and the holiday wonder he provides." Well, fine, but just know no one likes you. If you insist on letting your kids touch Santa, which is creepy in its own right, might I suggest some attire updates for your children to wear? Updates like my new patented Santa Scrubs!

This new technology encases your children in plastic and denies any outlet for mucus membranes to escape from your bacteria hosts or kids or whatever they're called these days. Oh sure, maybe there are some "suffocation issues" in putting a kid in a kitchen garbage bag, but who's life is more important Santa's or your kid's? C'mon people, it's Christmas, think of someone other than yourself for once!

Zero-tolerance Parental Caning

As we know, I'm big on personal responsibility -especially when it comes to parenting. So here's how this thing works. If one of you chucklehead parents bring your visibly diseased kids over to visit Santa, a cheery 4' tall elf will approach you and invite you to an "exclusive" tour of Santa's workshop. Since you are a dipshit you will be flattered by the invitation and accept. Once inside the workshop, you will be tackled by (20) elves amp'd up on meth and then forcibly caned. Happy Holidays!

Sound too drastic? Fine, but just remember when 25 December arrives at your house, and your child rushes downstairs to unwrap it's totally undeserved Zhu Zhu Pet; remember poor 'ol Santa, 'cause the only thing he'll be opening is the toilet to deliver another round of pukey-poopy holiday cheer. He's only Kris Kringle, the King of Jingling, for khrissake!

Mall Santas say H1N1 flu risks warrant early vaccinations [The Sacramento Bee]

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Something From the Spank Bank


..and MSNBC, as always, with the objective save:

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Mad Men, Why?

Ladies and gentlemen! Ladies and gentlemen! Quiet down! Quiet down. Could I have your attention please?! Dear cast of Mad Men, thank you for -wait a gosh darn minute! You're not the cast of Mad Men! You're fat, awkward people. Get the hell out.

There you are! Cast of Mad Men, thank you so much for coming in on such short notice. I wanted to talk to you about something that is very troubling to me. The end of this season.

I gotta say, you guys, I really wasn't sure how this season was going to go. I mean you know I love you but the Salvatore bellboy hanky panky and the limeys descending on Sterling Cooper just seemed a bit desperate. You know, like 6 Feet Under there towards the end.

Then, you moved on to follow Peggy's coming of age, ugh... No offense Peggy- but your pouty I'm-a- big -girl -with -a -lot- to- contribute- why- doesn't -anyone -take- me -seriously- routine grew quickly tiresome. Yes Mad Men, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps you'd crested, perhaps you'd cow tow'd to the temptation of being stylish without making people think like you had done so successfully in Seasons 1 and 2. You were mine; were you suddenly dumming down? No, you were just warming up.

Listen, I'm probably going to type up this conversation I'm having with you right now and post it on my wildly popular blog so I'm not going to regale how wonderful this season ended up being to my loyal fans who have not yet watched this delectable piece of art, but I am going to ask you one question:

What the hell am I going to do until Season 4?

Well? That wasn't rhetorical (for once).

Okay, I'll get down off this chair so we can talk to each other eye to eye, and you don't have to keep looking up. Like equals.

Guys, I'm serious here. Do you know how long I waited for Season 3? I waited from like April of 2005 to August of 2009 or something, I'm a little fuzzy on the timing but I think that's right. Then to go from being so nonplussed to so filled with anxiety as I watched The Gypsy & the Hobo agape as "Where is Love" from Oliver played lightly over the closing credits. Who the hell do you think you are? You can't just toy with my emotions and leave me with the rest of the year and beginning of next to sit on my brains. What am I supposed to do till then -read a book? Don't make me laugh. You have a responsibility to me, you have a responsibility to this FAMILY!

Well, well, well. Mr. Draper. So cool and collected. You've been awful quiet. You bear much responsibility in this. Going from man with nothing to lose, on top of the world to desperate patsy who just wants to stop looking like an asshole. What have you to say for yourself? Nothing? Just a toss of the hands? How typical...


What am I supposed to do? I don't mean to sound so pathetic or exaperated, but you can't just do (13) episodes and go on vacation!? Do you know what would happen to me if I only worked for (13) days and went on vacation for (6) months? I would get sacked you know like, oh I don't know, Kater Gordon.


Oh, God why? [insert heaving sobs]

Please leave me. Please. Everyone just go. Everyone except you, Joan.

Yes, you. You stay.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

Media Watch: Beginning of the Republican Rebirth?

Chris Christie's not fat, he's just full (of new ideas). The pundits have spoken, this is the beginning of the Republican Rebirth.

Oooh Gumptioneers, my taint is all a tingle. It's election night, and I'm glued to the punditry of NY1, CNN and FOX. Oh sure, it's not a sexy election night. There's not an attractive, articulate black fellow going up against a likable Frankenstein and his foxy race-baiting henchwoman. It's not like that at all. It's more like this:
But Patrick what does it all mean???


I gotta tell ya, while GWGG wholeheartedly endorsed Mr. Obama I knew this whole thing would happen. I did, I like totally did. Cause here's the deal, as Americans we are fabulously impatient. Which is why I. Love. This. Land. While it felt good to be all kumbaiya back in January, it never takes long before we get itchy. We like our Jamba Juice now. We like our dry cleaning now. We like our awkward gay "furry" porn now. ..and I'll give it to you, now.

Furry porn aside, people look around and they see bailouts for big companies, the threat of raised taxes, and continued unemployment. With this dreary climate, Americans ask, "hey, where's all that delicious HOPEY CHANGE we were promised," and seek to cause a little change themselves by forwarding on strongly worded emails about the demise of our country, and maybe by voting, you know if there's nothing good on the teevee.

This frustration is, no doubt, the most overt signal of the rebirth of the Republican Party, right? Prolly, I don't know.

While I sit here watching the returns and assorted gray haired talking heads, I can't help but think, "What is Rush Limbaugh eating right now?" "How will this affect Sarah Palin's lipstick color palate?" "Will Rachel Maddow play Eddie in a production of "Rocky Horror Picture Show" I'm staging in my basement?"

Why am I considering these things, and not the heft of this earth-shattering election, you ask? Because there is no story here! This is the same thing that happened to the Dems after Clinton got elected, then to the Cons when W. got elected and now to America's First Black President™. For the Democratic losses listed above the candidates kinda sucked and/or weren't given any of that shiny Obama clout. Just left to twist, a casualty of war. Another case of history repeating, and a great opportunity to post a furry picture.

You can now go to bed, good children.


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