Holy mashed potatoes batman, I was just in my car singing along to Murder on the Dance Floor, and I had the sudden realization I have been singing the chorus wrong all these years...... It's not "It's murder on the dance floor, but you better not kill the groom," It's "You better not kill the groove."
Woah, this changes everything. I had imagined that Sophie Ellis-Baxtor was a wedding singer, and there was a disaster (a murder!) on the dance floor at one of the weddings that she was performing at, and she was saying, "Just don't kill the groom... I mean, a murder at a wedding is one thing, but it is best not to ruin it completely by killing off the wedding party as well, least of all not the groom, or bride for that matter. Thanks."
I'm (a) an idiot but (b) secretly like my version of the song better. It is much more interesting in a dramatic kind of way. Would make an excellently twisted music video.
I know, I know, what's wrong with me? I'm sure I don't know.
Saturday, 16 August 2008
Friday, 25 July 2008
The Next Comic Standing
Have any of you watched The Next Comic Standing? I think it needs a name change. It should be called The Next and Last Comic Standing. The whole premise of the show is to get 5 comics to the finals to be judged by America, but they are too busy recapping the Last Comic and previewing the Next Comic for us to even make those decisions. In the middle of the last episode, there was one whole clip sandwiched between commercial breaks that was all about what happened last and what was happening next, with no comedy bits.
I don't know, I guess some people don't have TiVo and they are like fish or dogs with less than 30 second memories or something, but I just saw that and I don't need you to tell me what happened and since there are only 7 people coming up I am guessing one of them is next. I mean, if there was some crazy twist where all of a sudden my phone is ringing and the producers are on the line saying "Jenn we need you to do some stand up on the show" and adding me to the competition then yes, please do let me know. But no, who's next? Oh, one of the seven comics? Really? Shocking. Why didn't you warn me. I went to go make pasta because I thought that it was going to cut to Little House On the Prairie for the next 5 minutes.
Also, has anyone noticed that one of the comics may have changed his name? I swear Jeff Dye used to be called Jack Dye. And I remember this only because I think Jack Dye is handsome and part of his handsomeness was in the name Jack (the other part is in his fluorescent attire). "Jack" is a handsome name. "Jeff" is a crap shoot. I think maybe I heard him say his middle name is "Jackpot" (classy) and that is why sometimes he goes by Jack, but since we are dealing with viewers who can't remember what happened in the last 20 seconds of the show, I don't think it is a good idea to change your name Jack/Jeff. Pick one, go with it, and don't confuse the viewers. Half will try to vote for Jeff, the other half will go with Jack, and it's bad to split your own votes. Yikes. (Note: I did some research and maybe he has always been Jeff. I don't know because I don't have the original episode saved on TiVo, but I swear it said Jack once. I really do. But, I could be wrong, my memory is not so good these days and no one kept me posted. All it would take is a little bit of the following: "Here is Jeff formerly known as Jack and currently known as Jeff but potentially to be known as Jack again shortly" to keep me up to speed on his name). (Second Note: I just found the original clip and yes it says Jeff but it sounds like Jack. So I guess I am a good listener but a bad reader. I think I was distracted by the tall vanilla latte in a bright green shirt).
Last, I missed the episode where Paul Foot got kicked off, and I am sad about Paul Foot leaving but I am not sad I missed the show. I heard Carrot Top was the special guest and I don't really like Carrot Top: (a) he scares me with his crazy hair and crazier eyes and (b) is it really necessary to call yourself "Carrot Top"? Really? Carrots aren't even red.
For those of you who don't know who Paul Foot is or why I like him, here is a clip:
UPDATE: If you watch this video until 4 minutes 40 seconds you will get to his cake bit. Thanks, Brooke!
I don't know, I guess some people don't have TiVo and they are like fish or dogs with less than 30 second memories or something, but I just saw that and I don't need you to tell me what happened and since there are only 7 people coming up I am guessing one of them is next. I mean, if there was some crazy twist where all of a sudden my phone is ringing and the producers are on the line saying "Jenn we need you to do some stand up on the show" and adding me to the competition then yes, please do let me know. But no, who's next? Oh, one of the seven comics? Really? Shocking. Why didn't you warn me. I went to go make pasta because I thought that it was going to cut to Little House On the Prairie for the next 5 minutes.
Also, has anyone noticed that one of the comics may have changed his name? I swear Jeff Dye used to be called Jack Dye. And I remember this only because I think Jack Dye is handsome and part of his handsomeness was in the name Jack (the other part is in his fluorescent attire). "Jack" is a handsome name. "Jeff" is a crap shoot. I think maybe I heard him say his middle name is "Jackpot" (classy) and that is why sometimes he goes by Jack, but since we are dealing with viewers who can't remember what happened in the last 20 seconds of the show, I don't think it is a good idea to change your name Jack/Jeff. Pick one, go with it, and don't confuse the viewers. Half will try to vote for Jeff, the other half will go with Jack, and it's bad to split your own votes. Yikes. (Note: I did some research and maybe he has always been Jeff. I don't know because I don't have the original episode saved on TiVo, but I swear it said Jack once. I really do. But, I could be wrong, my memory is not so good these days and no one kept me posted. All it would take is a little bit of the following: "Here is Jeff formerly known as Jack and currently known as Jeff but potentially to be known as Jack again shortly" to keep me up to speed on his name). (Second Note: I just found the original clip and yes it says Jeff but it sounds like Jack. So I guess I am a good listener but a bad reader. I think I was distracted by the tall vanilla latte in a bright green shirt).
Last, I missed the episode where Paul Foot got kicked off, and I am sad about Paul Foot leaving but I am not sad I missed the show. I heard Carrot Top was the special guest and I don't really like Carrot Top: (a) he scares me with his crazy hair and crazier eyes and (b) is it really necessary to call yourself "Carrot Top"? Really? Carrots aren't even red.
For those of you who don't know who Paul Foot is or why I like him, here is a clip:
UPDATE: If you watch this video until 4 minutes 40 seconds you will get to his cake bit. Thanks, Brooke!
Sunday, 29 June 2008
The Art of Procrastination, by Jenn
Lately I have found that the only way for me to get things done is to schedule time for it. So today I scheduled time to sort through my clothes and clean my room. I want to get everything organized before I go to Costa Rica so when I come back I can actually enjoy my summer instead of having a messy room that I will have to pack up hanging over my head.
However, my room to me is like a candy store to a kid. It has all kinds of amazing and useless things in it. So far today this what I have done:
1. Sorted through the clothes in my first 5 drawers. The 6th drawer I couldn't reach while laying on my bed, so I didn't get to that one.
2. Had brilliant idea of putting all of my dirty clothes in my laundry basket and clean clothes on my bed. Discovered that my laundry basket was filled with fancy dresses. Tried them all on. Danced around my room to test twirlability of each dress.
3. Skimmed the book on writing a book in a month. Got overwhelmed.
4. Found my journal that has all of my future short story titles in it and tried to determine if any of them could be turned into a book. Decided that short story titles really can only one day become short stories. Thought about writing a book of short stories. Wondered if that would qualify for writing a book in a month.
5. Doodled images of owls.
6. Sharpened a new number 1 pencil, "just in case."
7. Found a half drank bottle of root beer (diet). Tasted it. Flat and warm, just the way I like it.
8. Looked for motivation under my bed. Instead found a kit that teaches one how to make friendship bracelets. Thought about making one. Decided against it. Remembered that I had a kit that would teach me the art of Chinese brush painting. Looked for that. Found it on the top shelf of my closet. Too high up to reach and my chair was covered in stuff, so instead I read a few short stories in a book of short stories.
9. Stripped the sheets off my bed, then took a short nap on the bare mattress.
10. Made a "Cleaning Playlist" for my iPod. Synchronized my iPod. Listened to Playlist. Didn't like it. Rearranged the order. Resynched. Liked it.
11. Spotted the belated birthday present I bought for my roommate Liz. Wrapped it so it looked like a cupcake using only tape and tissue paper.
12. Started sorting through my mail. Then started reading my mail. Read the March issue of Martha Stewart Living. Remembered that the only reason why I get Martha Stewart Living is because Blueprint was cancelled. Got annoyed. Read back issues of Blueprint.
13. Remembered a conversation I had with a colleague about whether or not is was environmentally responsible to travel by stretch hummer instead of a cab. Researched the MPG of a stretch hummer and compared it with the MPG of an ordinary Boston cab. Calculated that our stretch hummer which was used to transport 20 people from EF to the restaurant used twice as much gas as one cab would have. However, one cab couldn't hold 20 people, so we would have needed 5 cabs, so in the end we saved .3 gallon of gas by taking the stretch hummer.
14. Realized it was 5pm and that my room was actually messier than when I started, my bed was unmade, and that I had wasted over 5 hours of my time. Wrote this post.
THE END
However, my room to me is like a candy store to a kid. It has all kinds of amazing and useless things in it. So far today this what I have done:
1. Sorted through the clothes in my first 5 drawers. The 6th drawer I couldn't reach while laying on my bed, so I didn't get to that one.
2. Had brilliant idea of putting all of my dirty clothes in my laundry basket and clean clothes on my bed. Discovered that my laundry basket was filled with fancy dresses. Tried them all on. Danced around my room to test twirlability of each dress.
3. Skimmed the book on writing a book in a month. Got overwhelmed.
4. Found my journal that has all of my future short story titles in it and tried to determine if any of them could be turned into a book. Decided that short story titles really can only one day become short stories. Thought about writing a book of short stories. Wondered if that would qualify for writing a book in a month.
5. Doodled images of owls.
6. Sharpened a new number 1 pencil, "just in case."
7. Found a half drank bottle of root beer (diet). Tasted it. Flat and warm, just the way I like it.
8. Looked for motivation under my bed. Instead found a kit that teaches one how to make friendship bracelets. Thought about making one. Decided against it. Remembered that I had a kit that would teach me the art of Chinese brush painting. Looked for that. Found it on the top shelf of my closet. Too high up to reach and my chair was covered in stuff, so instead I read a few short stories in a book of short stories.
9. Stripped the sheets off my bed, then took a short nap on the bare mattress.
10. Made a "Cleaning Playlist" for my iPod. Synchronized my iPod. Listened to Playlist. Didn't like it. Rearranged the order. Resynched. Liked it.
11. Spotted the belated birthday present I bought for my roommate Liz. Wrapped it so it looked like a cupcake using only tape and tissue paper.
12. Started sorting through my mail. Then started reading my mail. Read the March issue of Martha Stewart Living. Remembered that the only reason why I get Martha Stewart Living is because Blueprint was cancelled. Got annoyed. Read back issues of Blueprint.
13. Remembered a conversation I had with a colleague about whether or not is was environmentally responsible to travel by stretch hummer instead of a cab. Researched the MPG of a stretch hummer and compared it with the MPG of an ordinary Boston cab. Calculated that our stretch hummer which was used to transport 20 people from EF to the restaurant used twice as much gas as one cab would have. However, one cab couldn't hold 20 people, so we would have needed 5 cabs, so in the end we saved .3 gallon of gas by taking the stretch hummer.
14. Realized it was 5pm and that my room was actually messier than when I started, my bed was unmade, and that I had wasted over 5 hours of my time. Wrote this post.
THE END
Saturday, 28 June 2008
Who doesn't love Dyson?
Woah, I am totally obsessed with Dyson vacuums. I really wish I had one. Is anyone else with me on this one? If I had a spare $400+ and the need for a really fancy vacuum, I'd totally buy a Dyson. Move over Hoover, you are toast. There's a new vacuum in town and it is the Dyson Ball. It turns on a dime and never loses suction. The increased maneuverability is due to the motor inside the ball, giving it a lower of center of gravity (genius) and the incredible amount of suction occurs because of the Dyson patented root cyclone technology. I find this amazing.
I think the reason why I am fascinated with Dyson vacuums is the commercials. First of all, they star the inventor himself, and he is so passionate about suction that he actually makes me want to be passionate about vacuum suction. I truly believe that if you are passionate about what you do, then that passion can extend to anyone you talk to. That's why infomercials work so well.
My newfound passion about suction actually extends to hand dryer suction as well. Have you seen the Dyson Airblade? It is the most amazing hand dryer in the universe. Watching the commercial for the Airblade makes me want to purchase one. For the apartment I rent. Yup, that's right. I want to buy a hand dryer for my rented apartment's bathroom. Like that makes any sense.
Watch the commercial below at your own risk. It could make you spend lots of money on suction:
I think the reason why I am fascinated with Dyson vacuums is the commercials. First of all, they star the inventor himself, and he is so passionate about suction that he actually makes me want to be passionate about vacuum suction. I truly believe that if you are passionate about what you do, then that passion can extend to anyone you talk to. That's why infomercials work so well.
My newfound passion about suction actually extends to hand dryer suction as well. Have you seen the Dyson Airblade? It is the most amazing hand dryer in the universe. Watching the commercial for the Airblade makes me want to purchase one. For the apartment I rent. Yup, that's right. I want to buy a hand dryer for my rented apartment's bathroom. Like that makes any sense.
Watch the commercial below at your own risk. It could make you spend lots of money on suction:
Thursday, 29 May 2008
The I Hate Lisa Club official as of Wednesday night
Everywhere, USA- Viewers of Bravo’s hit reality program Top Chef bleched, blehhed and auuuuuuggghhed in unison last night after the airing of its most recent episode when it was determined that “Moana” Lisa would remain on the show for yet another day. Instead, Spike “Both my grandfathers were butchers and I like hats” Mendelsohn was voted out of the mansion and back to his real life as a fancy shmancy Chef de Cuisine in Tribeca. After the booing died down across the country (11pm Eastern, 10 pm Central) it was decided that an un-fan club needed to be formed, later dubbed the I Hate Lisa Club.
Members of the newfound club voiced their concerns that Lisa remains on the show because she is rude, obnoxious, loud, and ugly among other things and all of this makes for good TV. They feel as though keeping a character like Lisa on and into the final four sacrifices the high standards the show has been known for in the past. Is this not a competition among the best chefs in the country and shouldn’t the best be given an opportunity to win--- instead, Bravo appears to allow crazy-psychos stay on the show for a few measly ratings.
It’s true. I plan to watch the show mainly because I want to see which of the final 3 will punch Lisa in the face first. I also have been dying for a new bacon recipe, and since that is Lisa’s specialty I am hoping she will make it several more times so I can get a recipe off of this travesty at least. Oh wait, I don’t need a recipe to make BACON. Silly me. Maybe I will whip up some peanut butter mashed potatoes tonight because THAT SOUNDS APPETIZING.
Moving on and away from the fake news story format, I just have to say, what is the deal with keeping Lisa on the show? Come on! I know Spike isn’t a fan favorite either, but you can tell he has good skills. And he wears cool hats. And he is easier on the eyes than Lisa. He won the quick fire by making lollipop chops, didn’t he? I mean, Lisa has been on the chopping block for the past few weeks and every week I sit on my couch and hope and pray and wish and hope and wish and pray for Lisa to get told to pack her knives and go and it NEVER happens. Instead, she has one redeeming quality or she throws her friends (yeah, they are her friends because she wants to ‘keep in touch no matter what happens’—um, no one is going to keep in touch with you Lisa because you are evil and mean) under the bus and then someone who is far more talented than she is gets kicked off. Gross.
If you are interested in joining the I Hate Lisa Club, please send a check or money order to me at my address for $19.95 plus shipping and handling and I will send you this lovely t-shirt.
Members of the newfound club voiced their concerns that Lisa remains on the show because she is rude, obnoxious, loud, and ugly among other things and all of this makes for good TV. They feel as though keeping a character like Lisa on and into the final four sacrifices the high standards the show has been known for in the past. Is this not a competition among the best chefs in the country and shouldn’t the best be given an opportunity to win--- instead, Bravo appears to allow crazy-psychos stay on the show for a few measly ratings.
It’s true. I plan to watch the show mainly because I want to see which of the final 3 will punch Lisa in the face first. I also have been dying for a new bacon recipe, and since that is Lisa’s specialty I am hoping she will make it several more times so I can get a recipe off of this travesty at least. Oh wait, I don’t need a recipe to make BACON. Silly me. Maybe I will whip up some peanut butter mashed potatoes tonight because THAT SOUNDS APPETIZING.
Moving on and away from the fake news story format, I just have to say, what is the deal with keeping Lisa on the show? Come on! I know Spike isn’t a fan favorite either, but you can tell he has good skills. And he wears cool hats. And he is easier on the eyes than Lisa. He won the quick fire by making lollipop chops, didn’t he? I mean, Lisa has been on the chopping block for the past few weeks and every week I sit on my couch and hope and pray and wish and hope and wish and pray for Lisa to get told to pack her knives and go and it NEVER happens. Instead, she has one redeeming quality or she throws her friends (yeah, they are her friends because she wants to ‘keep in touch no matter what happens’—um, no one is going to keep in touch with you Lisa because you are evil and mean) under the bus and then someone who is far more talented than she is gets kicked off. Gross.
If you are interested in joining the I Hate Lisa Club, please send a check or money order to me at my address for $19.95 plus shipping and handling and I will send you this lovely t-shirt.
Sunday, 23 March 2008
Road Rage Cured By Insane Amounts of Traffic
Somewhere between South Windsor, CT and Somerville, MA, the disease I previously thought to be terminal- the strain of intense anger known as Massholitis Road Ragemonia, which causes inexplicable flare ups of unreasonable bouts of madness while driving- ceased to exist within my system.
At exit 72 on route 84, when traffic screeched to a halt at 7:50pm on Sunday night, I thought for sure I would fly off the handle if I was forced to drive bumper to bumper with the world's worst drivers (The Moms and The Dads who drop their kids off at college after Easter/Spring Break) at 20 mph for the next 5 minutes. After following an idiot- no, make that a stupidiot- who preferred to chat with his friends instead of paying attention to the road forcing me to downshift unnecessarily 6 or 7 or 100 times, I waited for my blood to begin boiling. When I had gone only 7 miles in 30 minutes, and was only at Charleton Plaza(CHARLETON PLAZA) almost 2 hours into my journey, mainly due to the fact that nobody knows how to merge or pick up toll tickets in a quick and speedy manner, I expected the feeling of uncontrollable anger to take over my system in the form of laying my hand on the horn for 15 minutes straight, but that feeling never came.
Instead, I found myself looking at the positive side of things. It's not every day I get to practice driving in such horrendous traffic with such irresponsible drivers! After getting through the worst of it, I gave myself seventeen pats on the back and one high five (even though high fives aren't my style) because I did such a fantastic job coasting easily through the jam.
I also took advantage of the additional time I was in the car. That mix CD I made before I went home for Easter on Saturday? I now know the lyrics to every song, including "You Can Call Me Al." I am bringing up "You Can Call Me Al" specifically, because this is a song I have liked for many years, not because of the content of the lyrics or even the catchy tune but because I always found the music video hysterical. Tonight, for the first time ever, I actually took the time to listen to the words of the song, because I realized I only knew the first part and the chorus and during the rest of it I would hum along and wait until the "Na-na-na---na!" part. Do you know what I discovered after listening to this song repeatedly? The words make NO sense AT ALL.
When I finally made it home, I went immediately to my mactop to look up the meaning of the lyrics. The only tidbit of information Wikipedia gave me was this: "The names in the song came from an incident at a party that Simon went to with his wife Peggy Harper. The host of the party called Paul "Al", and Peggy "Betty", inspiring Simon to write a song." Well, Wiki, that doesn't nearly explain who the man is who walks down the street, soft in the middle and short of attention span who needs a photo opportunity and is worried about ending up a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard. Why did his role model disappear with a roly poly bat-faced girl? How did he end up in a strange world (maybe it is the third world) without currency?
Actually, Wiki, the only part I didn't question was the chorus, because I figured that if you'll be my bodyguard then I'll be your long lost pal. I can call you Betty, and Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al.
I don't even know what this post is about anymore, but here is the video:
At exit 72 on route 84, when traffic screeched to a halt at 7:50pm on Sunday night, I thought for sure I would fly off the handle if I was forced to drive bumper to bumper with the world's worst drivers (The Moms and The Dads who drop their kids off at college after Easter/Spring Break) at 20 mph for the next 5 minutes. After following an idiot- no, make that a stupidiot- who preferred to chat with his friends instead of paying attention to the road forcing me to downshift unnecessarily 6 or 7 or 100 times, I waited for my blood to begin boiling. When I had gone only 7 miles in 30 minutes, and was only at Charleton Plaza(CHARLETON PLAZA) almost 2 hours into my journey, mainly due to the fact that nobody knows how to merge or pick up toll tickets in a quick and speedy manner, I expected the feeling of uncontrollable anger to take over my system in the form of laying my hand on the horn for 15 minutes straight, but that feeling never came.
Instead, I found myself looking at the positive side of things. It's not every day I get to practice driving in such horrendous traffic with such irresponsible drivers! After getting through the worst of it, I gave myself seventeen pats on the back and one high five (even though high fives aren't my style) because I did such a fantastic job coasting easily through the jam.
I also took advantage of the additional time I was in the car. That mix CD I made before I went home for Easter on Saturday? I now know the lyrics to every song, including "You Can Call Me Al." I am bringing up "You Can Call Me Al" specifically, because this is a song I have liked for many years, not because of the content of the lyrics or even the catchy tune but because I always found the music video hysterical. Tonight, for the first time ever, I actually took the time to listen to the words of the song, because I realized I only knew the first part and the chorus and during the rest of it I would hum along and wait until the "Na-na-na---na!" part. Do you know what I discovered after listening to this song repeatedly? The words make NO sense AT ALL.
When I finally made it home, I went immediately to my mactop to look up the meaning of the lyrics. The only tidbit of information Wikipedia gave me was this: "The names in the song came from an incident at a party that Simon went to with his wife Peggy Harper. The host of the party called Paul "Al", and Peggy "Betty", inspiring Simon to write a song." Well, Wiki, that doesn't nearly explain who the man is who walks down the street, soft in the middle and short of attention span who needs a photo opportunity and is worried about ending up a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard. Why did his role model disappear with a roly poly bat-faced girl? How did he end up in a strange world (maybe it is the third world) without currency?
Actually, Wiki, the only part I didn't question was the chorus, because I figured that if you'll be my bodyguard then I'll be your long lost pal. I can call you Betty, and Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al.
I don't even know what this post is about anymore, but here is the video:
Thursday, 13 March 2008
Horatio Caine: The new Chuck Norris?
Lately, I have become a little obsessed with CSI: Miami. I know, I know, I know, I know- that is a completely lame-o thing to say. But, what I am going to say next is even more lame than the fact that I like CSI: Miami (by and far nationally known as the CSI show with the least depth and with the most ridiculous plot lines), I love love love the character Horatio Caine.
Yes, Horatio Caine is the over-dramatic, not handsome (unless you like that sort of thing), redheaded (in Miami? How does he not have a sunburn all the time?), sunglass sporting, catch-phrase spouting, crime scene investigator. He is the head of his operation and does a mighty fine job.
Since I have started watching CSI: Miami (on A&E-- I don't watch new episodes; I prefer to watch reruns out of order so I can piece together the puzzle that is the drama of this show) I have come to the conclusion that Horatio Caine is the new Chuck Norris.
For starters, we need a replacement Chuck Norris. It has come to the point in time where drop kicking everything is starting to get old. Yes, I love the Chuck Norris anecdotes that are out there on the world wide web, but what we truly need is fresh meat. I nominate Horatio Caine, or H, as I fondly refer to him as, to step up to the plate. (H doesn't step up to the plate, actually, the plate steps up to him).
Horatio has what it takes to be the next Chuck Norris phenomena. He is dramatic. He wears sunglasses. He is so intimidating that he can say something like "See you later.... alligator" and make your hair curl. He stands on the top of buildings to survey the crime scene. He flies to Rio to avenge his brother and wife when the need arises.
Not only does he have intimidation down pat, he has a team of followers who are willing to support him on his journey of being the most redheaded, most dramatic CSI in the history of CSIs.
Finally, Chuck Norris is a redhead, so it only natural for him to be replaced by another redhead. It just makes sense. I wouldn't replace an apple with an orange, ya know?
In case you still weren't sure if Horatio Caine could be the new Chuck Norris, here are a few H facts for you to nibble on (mostly courtesy of my friend Heidi- a secret Horatio Caine impersonator- although yours truly did indeed come up with the last one).
In conclusion, if you are reading this and you have no idea what I am talking about, feast your eyes on the ultimate montage of Horatio Caine-isms:
And if you still aren't convinced, check out the sunglasses reel:
I think I made my point. 'Nuff said.
Yes, Horatio Caine is the over-dramatic, not handsome (unless you like that sort of thing), redheaded (in Miami? How does he not have a sunburn all the time?), sunglass sporting, catch-phrase spouting, crime scene investigator. He is the head of his operation and does a mighty fine job.
Since I have started watching CSI: Miami (on A&E-- I don't watch new episodes; I prefer to watch reruns out of order so I can piece together the puzzle that is the drama of this show) I have come to the conclusion that Horatio Caine is the new Chuck Norris.
For starters, we need a replacement Chuck Norris. It has come to the point in time where drop kicking everything is starting to get old. Yes, I love the Chuck Norris anecdotes that are out there on the world wide web, but what we truly need is fresh meat. I nominate Horatio Caine, or H, as I fondly refer to him as, to step up to the plate. (H doesn't step up to the plate, actually, the plate steps up to him).
Horatio has what it takes to be the next Chuck Norris phenomena. He is dramatic. He wears sunglasses. He is so intimidating that he can say something like "See you later.... alligator" and make your hair curl. He stands on the top of buildings to survey the crime scene. He flies to Rio to avenge his brother and wife when the need arises.
Not only does he have intimidation down pat, he has a team of followers who are willing to support him on his journey of being the most redheaded, most dramatic CSI in the history of CSIs.
Finally, Chuck Norris is a redhead, so it only natural for him to be replaced by another redhead. It just makes sense. I wouldn't replace an apple with an orange, ya know?
In case you still weren't sure if Horatio Caine could be the new Chuck Norris, here are a few H facts for you to nibble on (mostly courtesy of my friend Heidi- a secret Horatio Caine impersonator- although yours truly did indeed come up with the last one).
- There is no control button on Horatio Caine's computer. Horatio Caine is ALWAYS in control.
- Horatio Caine has destroyed the periodic table because he only recognizes the element of surprise.
- Horatio Caine doesn't listen to music. Music listens to Horatio Caine.
In conclusion, if you are reading this and you have no idea what I am talking about, feast your eyes on the ultimate montage of Horatio Caine-isms:
And if you still aren't convinced, check out the sunglasses reel:
I think I made my point. 'Nuff said.
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