Why you shouldn't drink soda before bed

The other night, I had nothing better to do with my nocturnal schedule, so I tuned into the local politics channel. They usually have replays of Alachua County commission meetings, live Florida Senate and House sessions, and the like. I kind of banked on the fact that this channel would be so boring that I would be able to fall asleep like a baby. I was wrong.

On the tube was, perhaps, the longest City Planning Commission meeting to have ever occurred. The docket was full of issues, but I happened to start watching in the middle of a proposal to rezone some rural residential land into commercial land for some utilities company, complete with a tower so that the business hub could communicate with their utility vehicles out and about in the field. Simple enough, right?

Wrong. I don’t really care to get into the specifics of the debate, since it’s pretty well boring and arguments lasted for (literally) hours. I just want to give a quick once-over of the good folks on the Alachua County City Planning Commission, who are, for all intensive purposes, as varied as the topics they discussed that evening.

First, we had Poor Statute Guy. This poor guy had to rattle off statutes and procedural rules to the otherwise uninformed members of the commission for hours. When his peers didn’t like what he said, they fought with him. But I mean, come on – Dude was just reading the rules.

Then, Hippy Environmental Activist. You know the kind: long hair, no tie, insists that society would be far better if we still traveled by horse and buggy, probably eats Hare Krishna Lunch.

Now, New Age Beatnick almost always agreed with Hippy Environmental Activist, which is convenient in that they sit next to each other. This guy reminded me of a thirty-something kind of guy who tries to be socially aware to impress college students. He probably also likes Matchbox 20.

Then, it got interesting. Presiding over the meeting was Skinny Jewish Conservative. Skinny Jewish Conservative was a curious fellow because not only did he disagree with Hippy Environmental Activist and New Age Beatnick, he fought against everyone (even Joe Redneck, who we will examine next).

Joe Redneck didn’t talk much. But when he did, he would insult Hippy Environmental Acitvist and New Age Beatnick in an effort to support his favorite utilities company; I guess he wasn’t a fan of Gainesville Regional Utilities, I’m not sure. I picture Joe walking out after the meeting to his 1989 Chevy 4×4 painted to look like the General Lee ‘69 Charger of Dukes of Hazzard fame.

Next down the line came Jose “Conflict of Interest” Perez, a Hispanic man who could barely speak English but abstained to vote on the proposal because his law firm had somehow landed the representation of one of the parties involved. Interestingly, this refusal culminated in the failure of a plurality after the voting process. This made me quite mad, as I had devoted almost three hours to watching these folks debate this proposal.

Sitting next to Jose Perez was the only Black Guy on the commission. Incidentally, he was the only cool guy on the commission. He waited until all the squabbling was over with between Hippy Environmental Activist, New Age Beatnick, Skinny Jewish Conservative, Joe Redneck, and Jose “Conflict of Interest” Perez to weigh in with a highly uninformative, unclear position. I say he was cool because he seemed to be above the commission process and it became clear to me that as the meeting proceeded, he ultimately came to the conclusion that becoming a member of this body was a mistake.

…Almost as big of a mistake as my decision to watch this meeting in the first place.

Late Night Daydreaming

Having the nasty habit of staying up late at night because it’s summer, I also have the opportunity to expand my normal television horizons. No longer boxed into the quasi late night shows of Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim Lineup, I can channel surf to my heart’s content.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am in love with Game Show Network’s Playmania, which is an interactive game show. Is it because of the fun opportunities to play along? No. Is it because during the commercials, I’m exposed to the dreamy voice of TV’s own Chuck Woolery? Kind of, but no. It’s because of the hostess. I am in love with Shandi Finnessey.

Who knew that winning Miss America could afford a person the chance to be a game show hostess on a basic cable TV network? And here I thought they would go on to use their newfound fame to, you know, help save the world and kiss little babies. Well, either way, I’m glad that I can spend my time at 2:30 AM watching this lovely young lady.

Yo Mamma So Fat…

We all have our dirty little secrets. Some people secretly like musicals. Some secretly kill people and hide their chopped-up bodies in the walls. Me? I watch MTV.

Now, I’m not a religious watcher. I know it’s like an instant brain cell killer. And I know that by watching it, I’m probably shortening my life span. But hey, I’m a relatively unhealthy person anyway. What’s a couple years when I’m 70? (As if I’ll make it to 70, considering all the $1 double cheeseburgers from McDonald’s I’ve been eating lately.)

Today, I watched a marathon of MTV’s “Yo Mamma.” It’s a show where a bunch of ghetto folks with interestingly nice houses insult each other in front of a group of comparably ghetto people who say “Oh snap!” or “Oh no you di-en’t!” when one guy squeaks out a lame “yo mamma so fat…” joke. It’s a half hour of mind-numbing fun!

You know, this is the second MTV show with which I’ve fallen in love. My first man was Andy Milonakis. But my true love? Wilmer Valderrama.

What is it?

For those of you who have seen the “What is it?” commercials on television and really, really want to know what “it” is, stay tuned. Your answer’s coming shortly.

For those of you that want to let the advertising campaign work its magic, close this window.

But me? I was curious.

After seeing a commercial drumming up “it” to be the greatest thing on Earth, I went to the Web site that the commercial specified at the end (http://whatis-it.com) hoping that I would figure out what “it” was. No such luck. Apparently, the powers that be won’t be unveiling the true nature of “it” until October 20.

But my brother and I are innately inquisitive. So, with his trusty companion Google, Ian did a WHOIS lookup for the mystical URL and found the name of the woman, Megan Bundy, who registered the domain. Turns out she works for an advertising firm in Manhattan. Yes, we got a name. And an address. And a phone number.

After calling at 10:00 p.m. last night and getting her office voicemail, Ian left a message that was not returned.

However, today I gave Megan Bundy’s office a call. Luckily, I did not talk to Megan herself; I spoke to another young lady who, even though she didn’t get the memo not to spill the beans, was conscious enough to request anonymity when I asked her name.

“I would really prefer to keep that information confidential,” she said.

However, after our two minute conversation, I came away enlightened.

“Think about it,” she said. “What can you get on eBay?”

“Anything,” I said, just realizing the simplicity of it all.

“Exactly. I bought ‘it’ on eBay.”

That was the gist of the conversation. I then spent a minute lauding her presence on a staff that came up with such an idea. It’s so simple. And so good. Because I was so curious and because I tried endlessly to uncover “it,” it’s easy to see that this campaign worked. She offered to transfer me to their creative department, but I had already found out that which I wanted to know.

Congratulations, Megan, on a truly ingenious scheme.

Since sliced bread

I am fully aware of the fact that there cannot possibly exist more than, say, four people in the entire world that share my opinions on this matter. However, because the Internet is an outlet for my (always correct) thoughts on a variety of subjects, I’m just going to go ahead and say this because it needs to be said.

Up until a week ago, I wouldn’t watch MTV if my life depended on it. I felt that it would make my brain rot into a casserole of knowledge that once was. However, as an ordinary teenager in the United States, I have learned to embrace the inanity of it all and settle for a mediocre intellectual existence.

That said, brace yourself for the opinion that may encourage you to close your browser and never read my ramblings again:

The “Andy Milonakis Show”:http://www.mtv.com/onair/andy_milonakis/ on MTV is the best show on basic cable today.

I know – it’s a radical view. But this guy throws the best random and in-your-face humor fight at you and you are forced to keep up with his outrageous antics or get left behind in the dust of pure genius. Unfortunately, a majority of the world is so closed minded that the art behind the scripting of the Andy Milonakis Show is lost behind immature cries for more mind numbing filth like “Date My Mom”:http://www.mtv.com/onair/dyn/date_my_mom/series.jhtml or “Room Raiders”:http://www.mtv.com/onair/dyn/room_raiders/series.jhtml and is therefore destined to die a pretty quick death.

Those ignorant fools.

Escaping Reality

You know, every time I see that advertisement on television for Geico Auto Insurance that starts out by introducing a new reality show in which a newly married couple live in a miniature version of a house and their trials and tribulations, my hopes are absolutely obliterated when I find out that it was just a gag to get me to buy insurance. That would be a really, really funny show.

Mind you, I am the kind of guy who has never once seen an episode of _Survivor_, been entertained by _The Apprentice_, nor laughed at Joe Rogan. I mean, I’ve seen _Fear Factor_, but Joe Rogan is not funny.

Anyway, I digress. I think that, given a hefty paycheck, Fox could hire me as a conceptual program designer. I mean, I’ve got an eye for both the ideas that do not suck (such as the forthcoming list) and the ideas that blow (such as every reality show on television except for that one where the girl had to choose which guy was really her father – that was genius).

So, Fox executives, consider this list of the greatest television program ideas my application to your team. I expect a salary of at least $150,000 annually with a $100,000 signing bonus and my own parking space. The latter is nonnegotiable.

# Okay, so you get a young married couple that is looking to adopt some kids, right? Then, you get 20 orphans from the local orphanage and have them participate in competitions, during which time they are eliminated one by one until the winner is decided. The winner gets a new home and family, while his 19 counterparts get to go back and spend the rest of their lives with the evil Miss Hanigan.
# Okay, so you get a group of twenty or so young people, right? Then, you surgically detach their legs and put them back on backwards. Then you could let them all live in one house (see _The Real World_). Of course, you would have to get a whole slew of conflicting personalities: the prissy cheerleader; the gnarly surfer type who might be exploring the different nooks and crannies of his sexuality; the tramp-like 24 year old who looks two times her age; the raging black dude who resents the fact that he’s the only African American in the house; the big fat party animal; and a skinny little nerdly boy who has a big, fat high school crush on anything within thirty feet sporting a vagina.
# Okay, so you get a group of monkeys together, right? Then, put them in a house together that they are not permitted to leave (see _Big Brother_). Then, because there would be no truly significant value in the show at this point, get “Bob Saget”:http://www.bobsagetisgod.com/ to come in and do voiceovers for each of the individual primates within the house – all in the exact same voice. That should pull this show out of the gutter; it worked for America’s Funniest Home Videos.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. These ideas are not funny, with the exceptions of item one and the last part of item three. But are you telling me that if someone was to put these gems on your boob tube, you would rather watch The Weather Channel or Lifetime? I think not.

So, bring it on, Fox. I have the power to turn every television set in America into an unavoidable idiot magnet.

Did I just hear a fat lady?

If you’re like me and you’ve grown up near Clearwater, since your early childhood, you have been privy to countless commercials for used cars from Dayton Andrews’ Chrysler/Jeep. Ever since I can remember, I’ve seen this old fellow by the name of Dayton Andrews peddling his automobiles from the angle of an honest, family-friendly car dealer. He attempts to appear as a good, old fashioned, nice old man as he ends every commercial with the same plea: “Come trade with me under my old oak tree.”

See, there’s this oak tree that’s been there (presumably) since the dealership opened 40 years ago. There’s just something about purchasing a car from an old Southern type under his famed branches that makes you feel like you’re getting a real deal, you know?

Well – and I absolutely hate to say this – Mr. Andrews, after your tree’s decade-long fight with old age, mother nature has emerged victorious. And it’s looked this way for more than a year. I beseech you: please take that tree out of its misery. It looks pathetic sitting there on the side of State Road 60, one of the busiest roads in the county.

The dream is dead.

!http://www.sociallyconsciousbird.com/storage/images/deadtree.jpg!

Roper v. Furley

In the seventies, America was posed with a conflict of interests. There was Mister Roper: married to Helen, typically sad, and outrageously whipped. Then there was Mister Furley: single, whimsical, and outfitted with the typical Barney Fife voice cracks and squeals.

This problem arose in the 1970s, but after Three’s Company went off the air and the nation was thrust into the mondo-rad world of the roaring eighties, the public sort of let it go. They had no need to play favorites – the ordeal was over.

But then, after I had lived out a healthy portion of my life, Three’s Company made its way onto the Nick at Nite lineup and into my heart. There was, however, a noticeable rift in character between the two landlords of Jack, Janet, and Chrissy. I knew in my heart that I had to choose between one of them. I had to make the hardest decision of my days up until that point.

Sure, Mr. Roper was funny in the passive, aloof sense. But Don Knotts’ characteristic active comedy contributed to Furley’s character in a way that catches the spirit of humor by the toe and swings it around in the air before slamming it onto the pavement of Slapstick Avenue. Roper’s interaction (or lack thereof) with his wife, though, puts a tally in his column of hilarity; jokes about husbands not wanting to be intimate with their wives are outstandingly funny and, like a fine wine, are even better when aged about thirty years.

Upon culmination of my analysis of these two television giants, I came to the conclusion that these two fellows are like apples and oranges. Their stylistic approach to comedy is determined by their overall characters, which are as different as the comedic environments in which they were taught their trade. Therefore, I cannot compare these two men. I cannot identify one as greater. I cannot, by the same token, name one as inferior.

Thus, I applaud the characters of Mr. Roper and Mr. Furley for developing their characters in ways very different from each other. God bless you both.

Crass Commercialism

I’m sick and tired of it all. Note that this is not some melodramatic wane of teenage angst that is so common in blogging these days. What I’m upset about is being pummeled constantly for about a month every two years with political ads – on television, on the radio, and in print. It’s almost too much to bear. Tomorrow is the Republican Primary, where GOP candidates will be weeded out to make for probable Republican victory in November.

I don’t consider myself to be a Republican, but if I were, this guy would be my choice for Senate.

All the other commercials say pretty much the same thing:
“I am a conservative. President Bush likes me. I hate the terrorists. Don’t you? You don’t? Then you must be a terrorist. Here, you can absolve yourself by putting one of these nifty ‘God Bless America’ bumper stickers on your fender.”

But this fellow, he knows how to appeal to me aesthetically: Lawyers dropping into an endless watery abyss, his two major opponents in M&M form bouncing onto the screen, and a well made-up face to boot. (Listen closely when his opponents come onscreen and you can hear a squishy, bouncy noise. Brilliant!)

In closing, this Web site would like to officially support Doug Gallagher for one of Florida’s Senate seats in the Republican Primary election tomorrow. Now won’t that be print worthy on future ads?

Farewell, Hesh; my Salisbury steak awaits!

My late-night TV watching used to just consist of hours of local programming on Access Pinellas or independent films on IFC. Occasionally I’d flip to Adult Swim on Cartoon Network to tune into Family Guy or Futurama, both shows that I miss nowadays since Fox gave them the boot.

But after watching more and more Adult Swim-exclusive shows, I realize that I love it. My new favorite program is Sealab 2021, a remixed version of the 1972 original. I now have incentive to continue with my daily naps so I can stay up late and watch cartoons.