Mad Men: Matthew Weiner Really is a Weiner

You can tell that's a fake baby, because look, that's actually a chicken arm. 

If you missed part I of the TV My Wife Watches Super-Platinum-Mega-Rocket-Gold-Mad-Men-Premiere blogpost, read it here. Jim Nantz and Clark Kellogg broke down the Draper’s sex scene. Really riveting stuff. If you read it already, God bless you.

Onto part II!

Besides a sex scene where a woman stuck her butt eight feet in the air, the first episode of this season was kind of a snooze.

Yeah yeah, I know, they're setting stuff up, and it's not like I was expecting kamikaze explosions, but I was looking for a little more action besides a self-inflicted nose bleed.

But more disappointing than the lack of action (or the tons of commercials or Harry Crane's sudden weight loss), was the fact that my favorite character is ruined. Joan -- television's preeminent sexpot* -- had a stupid baby.

And she named her stupid baby, Kevin.

Yeah, Kevin.

As in, "Oh hey, meet my son. His name is Kevin."

Now, I'm not one to judge people's dumb names, but that's a dumb name. And that’s coming from a guy who basically has that same name, but without the “kuh” sound.

What kinda person names their child, Kevin?!?! What kinda person is so out of touch with reality that they go and name their stupid baby something stupid like Kevin?!?!?

I'll tell ya what kind: a new mom.

Probably the only cool Kevin, but no one actually calls him, "Kevin." They call him "The Kevilator!"

New moms (especially first-time moms) have long been some of civilization's most irrational creatures. They're sleep deprived, their hormones are freakin' out, they're obsessed with naps, they rarely shower, they watch the Today Show, and they constantly post pictures on Facebook of their sons wearing shirts that say stuff like, "Save the Date for Freddy's Bar Mitzvah, 2025!" They're completely and totally out of their minds.  

And I'm not blaming new moms!

I know it's not your fault new moms!

It's science!

And it's not your fault that my favorite character is going to spend this entire season weeping.

It's Matthew Friggin' Weiner's fault.

HE DIDN'T HAVE TO WRITE THIS ... HE DIDN'T HAVE TO GET JOAN PREGNANT ... SHE'S RUINED I TELLS YA, RUINED!

The worst thing is, this shouldn't have been surprising! I knew Joan was gonna have a stupid baby and I knew that her life would change, but I didn't realize that it would have such ramifications. On their list of priorities, having rugged sex with people at work is not at the top of any new mom's lists. Taking care of their stupid baby and making sure he doesn't barf all over the place is. And it's disappointing!

I guess the silver lining is that now Joan has milk boobs and may be so lonely and desperate that she'll be up for having sex with anyone and everyone. And also that she hates being a mom. But it's not the same. And it'll never be the same.

I guess maybe after all, I was looking forward to some explosions. I was looking forward to seeing Joan's boobs explode all over Lane's stupid face. Quick question: if a new mom's boobs explode, does milk just splatter all over the place?

It probably does, right?

This guy knows about Zou Bissou Bissou ...





Absolutely unacceptable that EVERY ONE of my wife's shows airs on Sundee nights: Mad Men, Eastbound and Down, Life's Too Short, and then starting this weekend, Game of Frones AND the Killing. No idea what we're gonna do. I'll tell ya what you should do, read this article about Mad Men by Chuck Klosterman that is so articulate and thought out that it makes me never want to attempt to write anything ever again. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, just check out Cookie Monster being hilarious.


* Apologies to Diane Sawyer and every Russian dancer (male and female) on Dancing with the Stars.

Mad Men: Jim Nantz and Clark Kellogg Break Down Don and Megan Draper's Sexcapade

Get over yourself, lady. 

In honor of March Madness, I’ve asked my good friends Jim Nantz and Clark Kellogg to give their thoughts on last night’s Don Draper/Megan sexcapade.

JIM NANTZ: Thanks Ev. Well Clark, despite the 17-month layoff, Don Drapes went right back to work with a vintage Draper-Destroy-job.

CLARK KELLOGG: He certainly did, Jim. The guy is a consummate pro. At first when Megan refused to let him have his way, he seemed to be a little off his game, but then he took over like only Double D can.

JIM NANTZ: Nice gameplan by the young Mrs. Draper though, trying to tease and taunt the 40-year-old veteran.

CLARK KELLOGG: I certainly enjoyed it, Jim. When the sex scene started off, I thought it was a great strategy for her to just put her butt in the air and make Don watch. In fact, I would’ve liked for her to hold out longer than 15 seconds. Seemed like she had Don on the ropes for a sec. But Don Draper doesn’t sit back in a zone and watch, Jim. He attacks.

JIM NANTZ: And attack he did. Surprised that he went with the hair-pull, Clark?

CLARK KELLOGG: Not at all. That’s a Draper trademark. He’s been utilizing that move for years on school-teachers, heroin addicts, you gotta wonder why more young fellas are not adding that move to their tool box. I think the only one who ever defended and shut down Don’s hair-pullage was the former Mrs. Draper. And look where that got her.

JIM NANTZ: Ya think the new Mrs. Draper will last, Clark?

CLARK KELLOGG: Well, she’s got moves Jimbo. She showed that last night by getting Don into a Louisiana Leg-Wrap. That’s a lot harder than it looks. And the whole “Zou-bisou bisou” thing was unlike anything else we’ve ever seen.

JIM NANTZ: I think she’s got no chance. Well, that’s it from out here at the Midwest regional. Let’s send it back to the Evster at the TV My Wife Watches studio.

EVSTER: Actually, you guys are doing a pretty good job, I’d like to keep this going. Please, continue.

JIM NANTZ: You got it, Kevin. Clark, I’ll tell ya one guy who would’ve loved to sit back and watch Megan Draper go to work … Lane.

CLARK KELLOGG: He’s a dirty dog, Jim. But we knew that already. Remember, this is the same guy that went after that black chick at the Playboy club.

JIM NANTZ: You can’t find that in England.

CLARK KELLOGG: Actually, you can. But there is definitely something different about a black chick from America and a black chick from Britain.

JIM NANTZ: Tell me about them, Clark. I’ve only dated white women.

CLARK KELLOGG: You haven’t lived, Jim.

JIM NANTZ: I know I haven’t.

Look how wrinkled that guy's pants are behind them!

Betty don't play.

More to come later from TVMWW regarding last night's premiere of Mad Men ... I just wanted to get something posted as soon as poss, because my friend Loaves chastised me this morning -- saying, "Nobody is gonna care by tomorrow. This is the internet!"

Wednesday's Wifey: Christina Hendricks from Mab Membs

Pic courtesy of BobsBonerPalace.com

Prepare for a new era of TV My Wife Watches!

With the Bach in our rearview mirror, it's time to start blogging about breasts and butts from respectable, dramatic television programs. Mad Men returns this Sunday, back on the air for the first time since October, 2010. It's been so long that I honestly can't remember what was going on in this show. Did Don Drapes marry his secretary? Did Joan have an aborsh? Is Cooper dead? I kind of remember him dying. I honestly have no idea. But I do know that seventeen months is way too long to have to wait for Christina Hendricks to be Wednesday's Wifey. I also know that my head almost exploded while googling pictures to use for this post.

Let's see what this lady is all aboot ... shout-out to Canada ... she's not from Canada.

Here's X-tina standing with a man who looks to have no idea how to act, dress or fit into modern-day society. According to Wikipedia, this man is her husband, but that can't possibly be true. I think this guy is a famous cellist. Or possibly a monkey-man.

Monkey-man looks a little more put together here, it's nice that they dressed him up in a tuxed-JESUS CHRIST ... IT'S LIKE THEY'RE EXPLODING OUT OF HER DRESS! Why would AMC keep this show off the air for SEVENTEEN months?!?!

I admit that I don't know a lot about human (or monkey) anatomies, BUT HER BOOBS ARE GOING TO EXPLODE!

PLEASE GOD DON'T LET HER BOOBS EXPLODE!

I HOPE MONKEY-MAN DOESN'T GET HURT!

Monkey-men are really good at carrying things, like bananas or banana-colored bags of enormous bras that their monkey-handlers ask them to carry. It's nice that Christina is holding her monkey-man's hand so he doesn't get scared. Sometimes monkey-men get scared. I want to watch Christina give birth to a baby.

Looks like a totally normal picture. Just a lady and a monkey-man enjoying a wedding reception. But if you look closely at Christina -- specifically her exploding boobs -- you'll see THAT HER BOOBS ARE GOING TO EXPLODE!

I've been to A LOT of weddings and I've NEVER sat with anybody with explodo-boobs (OR a monkey-man). The last wedding I went to, some guy went around and shook hands with our entire table in an attempt to sell us mutual funds. "Hey, how ya doin? Brian Labaterra. Hey there, good to meet ya, Brian Labaterra. Hi there. Brian. Brian Labaterra. Brian Labaterra, how are ya? Brian Labaterra. Brian Labaterra."

I WANT HER TO JAM THOSE RED LEATHER GLOVES IN MY MOUTH, BASH THAT CHAIR IN MY FACE, AND MAKE ME DRINK OUT OF HER SHOES.

THIS BLOG IS NO DIFFERENT -- AND I MEAN, NO DIFFERENT -- THAN IT WAS WHEN I WAS BLOGGING ABOUT THE BACH. I'M TRULY SORRY (AND TURNED ON).

The internet is filled with women who dressed up as Joan for Halloween. This woman (who could be cute if she wasn't making the weirdest face ever) just so happens to be making the weirdest face ever.

This lady is making a slightly less-weird face, but is VERY aggressive. Also, that woman behind her (in the pink dress), take a look, her back kind-of looks like her front!

This lady has her own blog -- Polka Dot Overload -- where she tells people how to dress up like Joan.

THIS IS A REAL PERSON!

Here's a photo from Christina's high school yearbook. Apparently teenagers aren't allowed to smile. I can't stop staring at the blonde dude in the front row, all the way on the left. Look at his sweater ... THAT'S A DOGGIE I THINK ... AND I ALSO THINK "HE" MIGHT BE A "SHE" ... now I feel bad.

Those are really nice dresses and really nice shoes. 

I know that because I have my finger on the pulse of women's fashion.

I also once sold women's shoes during one summer in college. It was secretly amazing. 

Mad Men starts this Sundee night with a TWO HOUR PREMIERE. If you forget what the people of Sterling Cooper Draper Price are up to, I recommend going back and reading all of my Mad Men posts from last seez, found here. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, check out these sneaks that I almost bought today ... don't tell my wife! 

Mad Men: Season 4 Finale - So Many Questions

Golden hair, smooth skin, eyes like a Danish gypsy.

Finally got to watch the Mad Men Season Four finale last night and woke up this morning with so many questions: Is Don really gonna marry his secretary? Is Betty scarier than my 7th grade shop teacher? Why does my wife insist on cocoon'ing herself with our comforter? Did her mother not teach her how to share?

Let's tackle some burning Mad Men questions one at a time.

Is this the last we've seen of Glen?

With the Drapers moving to Rye, Sally should be putting her maniac friend in her rear-view mirror allowing Mad Men creator, Matthew Weiner to end his son's role as Glen. In an interview with the New York Times last week, Weiner said that he doesn't understand how people find his son's character to be so creepy. Weiner explains, "He’s got very big eyes and very thick black hair and that may be part of why people think he’s so intense." No Matthew, that's why we think Brian Wilson (the closer for the Giants) is intense. We think your son is crazy because he stares blankly at other humans and collects Betty's hair. Fortunately for him though, some equally as creepy teenage girl will probably love that intensity and one day introduce him to her breasts. He will then most likely kill her.

Speaking of death ...

How will Henry end up killing Betty? And can the writers also kill off Harry Crane? That guy is so annoying.

Amazing how when Don told Betty of his engagement, I actually felt sorry for her, considering she has cemented herself as one of the nastiest villains in entertainment history (along with Richard Hatch, Nurse Ratched and Jason Wahler from the second season of Laguna Beach). However, I still think Henry is going to end up killing her, probably with the politicians' preferred weapon of choice, the shoe horn.

I mean, there's still the oft chance that Henry does not murder the cold wench and chooses instead to sleep with a variety of other women like Don did. But I still think that he's smart enough to realize that the only true way to rid yourself of a crazy lady like Betty is to chop her head off. Even dumb-ass Tara from True Blood came to this conclusion when dealing with her whacked-out vampire lover. And she is really dumb and annoying. Kinda like Harry Crane.

Remember me?

I'll take any medicine you prescribe! Please don't hurt me.

If only Betty would move to Laguna Beach.

What the freeps'd is up with my eyebrows?

Ever since I turned 30, my eyebrows have started to sprout like whoa. I now look like a high school math teacher. For the first 29 years of my life, I had very nice, proportionate eyebrows; I never even had to groom or tweeze them. Now, I have stray hairs popping out in every direction and have to trim them at least once a week. This is reason #437 why I am nothing like Don Draper. Thanks, Don.

Speaking of Don,

Did Don really fall for his secretary?!?! Really?!

During the entire scene when Don was proposing to Meghan, my wife kept repeating, "This is a dream sequence, this is a dream." Four minutes later, when Don was putting the ring on Meghan's finger, my wife was still mumbling to herself (but now also shivering), "This is a dream, right? Please tell me this is a dream. What the freeps'd? This has to be a dream." Turns out Don saw something in the French-Canadian, possibly the way that she calmly dealt with Sally's spilled milkshake? (whereas Betty would've knifed her daughter in broad daylight.) Maybe it was the way she stepped up in the absence of Miss Blankenship? Maybe she has great taste in television programs and Don wants to blog about it? Regardless, Don is smitten (for now).

Please God, I don't want Andy's eyebrows! I'm sorry I was a peeping Tom!

Although Don's impulsive behavior seemed at first to be premature and silly, his proposal mirrors the way that many of us wish we could lead our love-lives, making decisions with our heart (although maybe Don was making decisions with something else ...... I'm talking about his dork ...... maybe he made that decision with his dork). Meghan's acceptance was quite romantic as well, as she said yes right on the spot, taking a leap of faith. Interesting how she chose not to make a pros and cons list like my wife did when I proposed.

Pros: Great eyebrows, no signs that he collects female hair. 
Cons: Family has history of mental illness, just because I haven't found locks of hair doesn't mean he doesn't have any.

It's exciting to make decisions with your gut, to elope with your secretary or to secretly chop off strands of clean, blond hair. I'm curious to see what happens when Don starts leaving his dirty socks in the living room; or when he playfully insults her mother and she takes it too seriously. Also, seeing as she's in her early twenties and seems to be cultured and educated, how is she going to react to the upcoming political problems during America's late 1960's? Will she protest the war and have conflicting ideologies from Don (who is both a veteran and a conservative suit)? Will she burn her bra with Peggy? Will Glen watch them burn their bras? Will Glen use binoculars to spy on them? Were there even binoculars invented in the 1960's? How many pairs of binos do you think I own? The answer is one.

A young Evster spies on Tiger Woods's wife.

Quick tangent: When I was in 7th grade, a middle-aged woman moved into the house next door to ours and did not put up blinds for the first month that she lived there. Her bedroom was across from mine and yes, every night I would spy on her and watch her undress. There would be times when I would stay up until 3am watching her read Time magazine. I remember wanting to write a letter to the editor of Time magazine telling him to shorten their articles (so she could go to bed at a more reasonable hour). My friends even made a waiting list at school where they would sign up to see who could sleep over my house. Amazingly, my friend Nick the Dick always seemed to wind up at the top. Eventually, my neighbor put blinds up and my popularity diminished. To this day, I cannot thank Ryan Silverman enough for getting me a pair of binoculars for my Bar Mitzvah. Ry Guy, if you are out there reading this, THANK YOU. 

To continue with some deviousness,

Will Joan's baby have silver hair?

The consequences for Joan not going through with her abortion are obviously heavy, but even more serious is that fact that when Joan gives birth, she may no longer work at the office! And if this is the case, will she no longer be on the show?!?! Say it ain't so Weiner! I was readying myself for her husband to get blown apart in Vietnam and have her start slutting it up with anyone she could find, kinda like this lady.

What is the highest acceptable price for Tropicana Pure Premium Orange Juice?

This one keeps changing on me. A few years ago, I would NOT buy Tropicana OJ unless I found it on sale at two for $4. Then, I compromised and felt as though two for $5 was doable. Yesterday, I got excited when I saw it for $2.99. Florida's Natural has to take advantage of this. Peggy Olsen and Ken Cosgrove should solicit them for new business.

What a segue!

Peggy Olsen and Ken Cosgrove? ... Ehhh? ... Ehhh?

Cleans up quite well.

I know Ken is engaged, but that means about as much to ad men as it does to a guy named Nick the Dick.  Peggy and Ken's ability to make magic could translate into more collaborations, more late nights at the office and more illegitimate children. Also, between Ken's savvy, Peggy's bra burning and Pete Campbell's obsession with being appreciated, I could foresee the three of them branching off and starting their own firm. Maybe they could hire Joan?!?! No wait, she'd still have that stupid baby ........ stupid baby!

Is Peggy attractive? I still have no idea.

I keep flip flopping on this one. Sometimes she looks great, and other times she looks like my friend Nick the Dick. Overall, I'll give her the thumbs up.

Who the freeps'd do I think I am?!?! Like Peggy Olsen (who probably has a real name) cares what some sweatpants-wearing, bushy eye-browed blogger, who hangs out with guys named Nick the Dick thinks of her looks! I'm sorry Peggy Olsen. You are beautiful. If I were 13 years old, I would totally watch you undress.

So now that Mad Men is over, what should I watch and blog about?

It's official, my wife and I now have ZERO actual, decent shows in our rotation. Should we watch Boardwalk Empire? ... The Mentalist? ... Glee? ... Please don't say Glee 'cause we're not watching Glee. We're also not watching The Mentalist.

Also I would love to see Peggy Olsen naked.

Ellen: Recap - w/ Christina Hendricks

Is Ellen on the phone here?

I have never considered myself to be the manliest man, as evidenced by the fact that:

a) I have a blog about women's television
and
b) I once spent an entire afternoon shopping at Bed Bath and Beyond without my wife (and loved it),

but I am certainly not the lamest dude either. I actually have some very primal, masculine qualities that may not be on par with Bruce Willis', but are certainly comparable to say, Maxim Chmerkovskiy's or Elton John's. For example, I have a decent amount of chest hair, can dribble a basketball with either hand and once ate an entire Roast Beef Hoagie with a stick. That being said, I have never done anything softer than centering my day around an episode of Ellen like I did last Thursday afternoon.

In my defense, my intentions were VERY manly. My sole reason for watching the show was to see special guest, Christina Hendricks. As I have written before, I can't get enough of her mesmerizing bosom and here  was my opportunity to see how Christina (the actual woman / bosom combo) compared to Joan (the Mad Men enhanced woman / bosom / sexpot combo bonanza).

Please tell her to stop looking at me like that. I can't handle it.

If you've never seen Ellen's talk-show, it is structured similarly to every other talk-show, but Ellen has a few signature wrinkles that set it apart. Following her monologue, they play music and Ellen starts wiggling her shoulders and proceeds to dance up and down the aisles along with her audience. THE WOMEN IN THE AUDIENCE GO ABSOLUTELY BONKERS. They all love it and smile as if they're staring at a thousand babies, especially the women who are seated in the aisles and have the chance to potentially dance with Ellen. Occasionally some do get this opportunity and do so with the most intense look in their eyes as if they must dance harder than they've ever danced before. Ellen normally gets a kick out of this and then leaves the women behind like her name was Charlie Sheen.

Later, Ellen introduces her mystery word of the day (which is a blatant rip-off of Pee Wee's Playhouse) and tries to get her guests to say the word, thus winning an enormous case of Pampers for her entire studio audience. Thursday's word was "papaya."

It was at this point in the show that I received a text message from loyal reader and my very masculine friend, Sergio, which produced the proudest moment in the history of TV My Wife Watches. Sergio wrote:

Dammit, I can't believe I'm watching Ellen. 

With renewed excitement and male companionship, I sprung up during the commercial break to get a glass of A&W Diet Root Beer (we were out of Crystal Light). When I got back to my seat, I placed my full glass of root beer down next to the empty glass I had left on the side-table the night before, which sat right next to the glass of Gatorade that I had forgot I had poured myself before Ellen had started.

(Let it be known I was drinking out of my favorite 1992 Portland Trail Blazers glasses. I have the complete set: Clyde Drexler, Terry Porter, Cliff Robinson, Jerome Kersey, Buck Williams and Kevin Duckworth RIP.)

That's Clyde the Glide just laying back in a hammock wearing his tennis whites.

Ellen was now interviewing her first guest, Simon Baker, The Mentalist. I've never seen The Mentalist and know a grand total of one person who has, but it's one of America's most popular shows along with around 17 other shows with one word titles: Bones, House, Chase, Glee, Benson, Maude. Clearly, I wanted to hate The Mentalist (the person, not the show), seeing as he's on a show called The Mentalist and oozes masculinity, but considering he wore sneakers, admitted to loving ping-pong and had a British accent, I was charmed. Minutes later, Ellen got him to say "papaya" and I jumped out of my chair with excitement, quickly realized what I had done and started coughing to cover it up. I then realized that no one was around, leading to the following question: if an unemployed guy wearing sweatpants cheers while watching Ellen in the middle of the day and no one is around to hear it, is he gay?

Okay Mentalist, if you could just lean to your right and stick your elbow out ... perfect!

Eventually, after a musical performance by Bruno Mars in which he sang some song about a girl he knows that has a perfect smile and an amazing laugh and a round butt, Ellen brought out Christina.

This was it, the moment I had waited for all day long.

Would Christina be as amazing as Joan? Would she ooze sex-appeal like Hillary Clinton? Maybe she'd admit to loving blogs or men who drink diet soda. I hoped she didn't laugh like a horse.

And then, there she was, walking out in that elegant way that she does, with one foot in front of the other and with both breasts leading the way, in a red, Mad-Menny dress with her legs looking smoother and whiter than sour cream.

(Quick tangent to show how amazing my wife is and the fact that she is not repulsed by dudes who make sexual references to women with smooth, sour cream legs: her LIFELONG DREAM is to take a bath in a giant, moving, truck full of milk. Picture a huge eighteen-wheeler pulling a large, oval-shaped cylinder, like one that's filled with petroleum, but cut it in half lengthwise and fill the container with milk instead of gasoline. Yeah, she wants to swim laps in there while I drive her around town like Morgan Freems. What a woman!)

So anyway, there was Christina, sitting next to Ellen, a moment that I had waited 46 agonizing minutes for. I sat up in my seat, turned up the volume and put down my root beer for fear of subconsciously pouring it all over my chest in some sort of sexually deviant way.  And just as Christina lowered herself in her chair, with both legs closed a la Lady Di and sat up straight to smile at Ellen, a graphic appeared on the screen covering up her entire lower body that read:

"appearing tomorrow: Kevin Nealon" 

Now I must say that before this moment, I really liked Kevin Nealon (especially Mr. Subliminal). In fact, I always felt kinda bad that he never achieved the level of success that so many other SNL cast members did. But at this moment, when they flashed that Norm MacDonald-wanna-be's name up on that screen covering up my girl Christina, it might've well have said "Adolph Hitler" was appearing on tomorrow's show.

Hey Kev, I'm gonna shove that apple up your ass if you get in the way of me and Christina ever again.

I calmed myself down with a few sips of root beer and went on to listen to Christina talk about how she grew up in Idaho and reinvented herself as a goth teenager when her family moved to suburban Virginia. They even showed a picture of her as a teen in all-black, with a bowl-cut, possibly the same haircut that my friend Sergio had in 1991. She was mildly entertaining, had really great posture and according to Sergio, "did not show nearly enough cleavage." The highlight came when she showed Ellen how to swing her hips when she walked, and dangle her arms like a cat. This caused me to spit my root beer all over the floor, which is fine because I recently bought a really cute and efficient Swifter from Target.

All in all, a pleasant, masculine afternoon hanging out with a sneaker wearing lesbian, a mentalist and the  current spokeswoman for London Fog jackets.

Who just so happens to sort of laugh like a horse.

Mad Men: That Glen Kid Is Creeping Me Out!

Those pajamas are actually sort of amazing.

So Don Draper desperately takes a provocative ad out in the New York Times, the agency is on the brink, and Don's ex-girlfriend Midge is a bona fide heroin addict; and yet the only thing that I truly want to blog about is just how incredibly creepy that kid Glen is!

"Do you want the backwash?" he asked Sally?!?!? as he guzzled his Coke and laid down in the grass like a Calvin Klein model (with his football pads still on!). I mean, I understand that teenage girls are sometimes into some freaky stuff, but drinking the backwash from the bottom of a soda bottle? Who makes an offer like that?!

Even more disturbing was the fact that Sally didn't even bat an eyelash. She just declined and moved on with the conversation (which is probably what her mother would have done as well). Shouldn't the conversation have gone more like this?:

Glen: Do you want the backwash?

Sally: What?


Glen: The backwash, from my soda. Do you want to finish it?

Sally: Dude, why would I want to drink your backwash?

Glen: I dunno, figured I'd offer; maybe you'd be into it.

Sally: You thought I might be interested in drinking the spit from the bottom of your soda bottle?

Glen: I'm not saying you'd be into it, I just looked down and noticed that I had a little more ...

Sally: And why do you still have your shoulder pads on? Didn't practice end like, three hours ago?

Glen: Well yeah, but ...

Sally: And hold up, why the FREAK would I want to drink your backwash?

Glen: I'm not really sure; I just looked down, saw that there was a little more soda, well, backwash in the bottle ...

Sally: So you thought, "Hmm, I've got some disgusting spit in the bottom of my soda bottle; I think I'll offer it to Sally."?

Glen: Kinda.

Sally: Are you INSANE?

Glen: Look, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to offend you, I've just always been taught to share and we've been talking for a while here and I thought you might be a little thirsty.

Sally: Yeah, we have been talking for a while.

Glen: That's all I'm saying ...

Sally: And I am pretty thirsty. That's actually sort of a nice gesture.

Glen: Thank you. I wasn't trying to ...

Sally: Let's make out.

Glen (freezes, looks at the camera, winks, and mouths the words): Bing bong.

They make out hardcore and Glen keeps his eyes open the entire time. Anddddd cut. 

Hmmm, well, maybe he was onto something.

At this point in the show; after snooping on Betty going to the bathroom, requesting a lock of her hair, living in the Draper's backyard and making Sally a lanyard, Glen has already cemented himself amongst the all-time creepiest characters in television history.

Here is who he is up against:

The current champ.

1. Kasey from this past season of the Bachelorette - For the first four weeks or so, I thought for sure that Kasey was deaf, but it turned out that he just had a ridiculously nasally speech impediment. Between guarding and protecting Ali's heart, the infamous tattoo and his Labrador-esque serenades, Kasey currently wears the crown as the Creepiest Character of All Time.

Probably the grainiest picture ever.

2. Vicki from Small Wonder - Once again, it's the voice, coupled with an inability to show any human emotion. Oh, she also had super human strength and lived in a cabinet.

"Hi'dy ho! Kermit the Frog here."

3. Bryant Gumbel

(Other receiving votes included: Fire Marshall Bill, The chick who won the Spelling Bee in 1997 and consistently put her hands over her mouth in between saying every letter, Phillies broadcaster Chris Wheeler and his toupee and any character from the show Twin Peaks, specifically the Log Lady.)

The amazing thing with Glen is, his creepiness is INCREASING. Most creepy people that you know tend to get less creepy the more you get to know them. For example, we've all worked with that person in our office who seems at first to be an absolute creep, but after getting to know them and their idiosyncrasies for an extended period of time, we actually learn to like them. Sometimes, we defend them when someone else makes fun of them, forcing us to say things like, "Yeah, I know it's kind of weird that Gilbert constantly smells his fingers, but he's got a problem with his glands and it just makes him feel better, so lay off." Or "Listen, sure Carl has a bunch of dead hookers locked up in his basement, but give the dude a break, his father sold life insurance."

I don't know how or if Glen is going to get out of his creepy funk. If you assume that he is about 13 years old right now and the show is set in 1965, then in 2010, Glen would be 58 years old and is probably currently sitting at his computer, writing a blog while wearing sweatpants.

And yes, I am currently wearing sweatpants.  

Please help me.

---------------------------------------------

Other quick thoughts from episode #413:

This looks normal.

- I don't understand why Don was still wearing his monkey suit while he stayed up late writing the letter to the New York Times. The first thing my wife and I do when we get home is take our clothes off. On most days when she gets home, I'm sitting on the couch watching PTI while she stumbles in with her pants already down around her ankles.


- I can almost GUARANTEE you that Sally was lying to Dr. Edna when she told her that she didn't have any Aces during their game of Go Fish. If there's one thing I learned during my three years as a middle school teacher, it's that teenagers LOVE to lie during card games. They also love to draw tattoos on their arms with magic markers, run errands to the office and make fun of dorky, white teachers who wear sweatpants and write blogs in their spare time.

- My wife is no longer fooled by those fake Mad Men'ish commercials that come on during the On Demand broadcast of the show. I'm not saying she is an expert with the remote; she still zooms way past the commercials and has to rewind and fast forward around 3 times before actually starting at the right point, but those black and white 60's style ads for Dove soap aren't fooling us anymore! And yes, we use Dove soap, but it's delightfully refreshing!

Ellen: with guest Christina Hendricks

Here's that lady again.

It is undeniable that all women LOVE Ellen Degeneres.

And I get it; she's funny, she dances, she wears sneakers; I like that. Well, on this Thursday's episode (tomorrow), Christina Hendricks (red-headed Joan from Mad Men) will be a guest on her show.

I will try to watch and blog about it. Hopefully my eyeballs won't explode.

Mad Men: Peggy Slept With That Guy?!?!

Look at Peggy Ols!

After Sunday's (sort of boring?) episode of Mad Men, viewers were left scratching their heads as to why Peggy slept with that annoying, bohemian dude and Don gave in to his mediocre secretary.

Let's look at Peggy first:

It's a little known fact that a girl sitting on a dude's lap in a jam-packed car of young adults is one of the leading causes of premarital sex (right behind already having a girlfriend and being good looking). There's something primal about a man putting his arm around a woman like a seat-belt that gives the woman a sense of false security. (Or maybe women just love to sit on a dude's wong? I know that dudes certainly love this.) In reality, the man's arm serves no purpose whatsoever and if they were to get into an actual accident, she would still fly through the windshield and probably become a paraplegic. However, young adults are stupid and like mashing on top of each other as an aphrodisiac.

A natural aphrodisiac

I once hooked up with some chick simply because I was forced to share a seat with her. I had no business hooking up with this girl; she was cute, intelligent, and would later grow up to become an upstanding member of society (and possibly a lesbian). I on the other hand almost died playing racquetball last week and currently manage five different fantasy football teams. Regardless, we got it on, and I owe it all to the fact that my friend Jonah drove a two-door hatchback (oh, and the girl was a ripping slut). 

In regards to Don, his situation was even more simple: when that secretary lady touched his arm, he was done.

Most women by the time they turn 15 realize that if they are able to touch another man anywhere on his body, they can most likely manipulate him into doing whatever they want. In fact, I once went out to get an old girlfriend frozen yogurt during Game 7 of the NBA Finals simply because she put her foot on my calf. Do you think men get their hair cut at the Hair Cuttery because they offer inexpensive haircuts in a variety of convenient strip-mall locations? No. It's because every one of their stylists is trained to gently graze their breasts against your shoulders while they shampoo your hair. This leads us to give outrageous tips, recommend our friends and occasionally run over to the supermarket next door to get them frozen yogurt.

Peggy doesn't really have the best taste in real-life either, does she?

Don actually did a great job of deflecting his secretary's advances, but then she kicked it up a notch by making devious eye-contact.  Don was left with no choice but to completely ravage her in a way that no man who gets his hair cut at the Hair Cuttery could possibly fathom.

Thanks, Don.

Mad Men: Don Draper is Freaking Out!

Don Draper after his panic attacks and trip to Barfalona, Spain

If you're looking for deep, analytical commentary of Mad Men, discussing the latest episode and the fact that the characters are reverting back to their childish ways (Don eying up his secretary, Roger's immaturity, Pete Campbell being a tweedle) then I suggest you read the New York Times' blog. But if you're looking for inane drivel (and opinions on Joan's breasts), then you're in the right place.

This Sunday's episode was one of the hardest hitting in Mad Men's history as Joan revealed she was pregnant with Roger's child in the very first scene! And yet, during the entire heart-wrenching scene, all I could think about was the fact that Joan's breasts have officially reached "bosom" status. There's no other way to describe them. Joan's bosom commands our utmost respect.

This is just getting ridiculous

At this point, I feel that Joan's breasts need to be used for greater purposes other than stealing scenes during AMC's Sunday night programming. For example, why hasn't one NFL General Manager attempted to sign Joan as a 3rd down specialist? I just spent 15 minutes listening to Mark Schlereth discuss the 49ers inability to convert on 3rd downs and not once did he mention Joan's ability to help embattled QB, Alex Smith. Think about it:

It's 3rd and 6, and the Niners need to convert on a key 3rd down at Arrowhead Stadium in Chiefs territory. Michael Crabtree splits out wide, with Vernon Davis in the slot. All of a sudden, Joan lines up out on the opposite flank, matched one-on-one with the Chiefs' nickel corner. She could have her little 49ers jersey tied in a bow under her bosom, with eye black on and a pair of heels. It doesn't even matter which heels she wears, although pink ones for breast cancer awareness would seem to be very apropos this month. As the Chiefs corner starts screaming for safety help, Joan could slowly slide her foot out of her shoe, causing the cornerback to uncontrollably start barfing all over the place (because she's so hot) and boom! Joan runs a quick button-hook for 6 yards, moving the chains and putting the Niners in position to possibly score more than 14 points this season. Is this really that hard to envision?!?! Doesn't Mike Singletary want to keep his job?!?!

Speaking of barfing all over the place, Don's panic attack and subsequent trip to Barfalona produced some of the most outrageous and disgusting barfing noises in the history of American television. Lard Ass's puke-a-palooza in Stand By Me was visually more disgusting; the same goes for Mr. Creosote in Monty Python's Meaning of Life, but Jon Hamm's ability to sound like he was giving birth through his throat was downright Emmy worthy. Great job Hamm!

Don's secret identity was put into great jeopardy, leading to some riveting scenes in which Don revealed his true self to Whats-her-face, but Lane getting straight caned by his father proved to be the most hard-hitting moment of the show. Big Daddy Kane rolled up on his son like he caught him chewing gum on a Singapore sidewalk; and then to add insult to injury, Big Daddy stepped on his son's hand until he called him "sir!" This was truly unfortunate because I had just gained some respect for Lane considering he was dating a chocolate Playboy bunny (is that racist? that might be racist).

Can Mark Schlereth fix the 49ers?

Very excited for next week when we'll hopefully find out if Don plows his new secretary, if Joan is still in fact preggers and if Pete Campbell's wife Trudy dons another ridiculous, maternity neglige.

Mad Men: "I'd ask my secretary, but she's dead."

For a couple of episodes, I thought this might have been Billy Crystal

See ya later Miss Blankenship! Hired by Joan to simmah Don down after he plowed his former secretary, Miss Blankenship served the show well, giving us a nice taste of slapstick during the darkest period of the show's run. With Don doing his best Courtney Love impression, Joan having her breakdowns and Betty transforming from Anakin Skywalker into Darth Vader, Miss Blankenship's appearance on screen gave us a much needed comedic break from the hard hitting show.

(For the record, my friend Fedd who does subtitling for TV shows in Los Angeles and watches TV and movies ALL DAY LONG claims that "The Shield" hits very hard.)

As this episode centered around the women of show and their places in life (including Sally), it must also be stated that this lady did quite a nice job.  

Is that a ficus?

Other quick thoughts:

- I get Don being hard on Sally when she first showed up to his office, but why not get down on one knee and tell her that he's very angry, but relieved that she's safe and will discuss it with her later? Did men not do this back in the 60's? He seemed a bit gruff.

- It's amazing how every one of us wants Joan's husband to die in Vietnam.

- Speaking of Joan's husband, in the comments section of the NYT write up of this week's episode, a guy (bobm, Wheeling WV, Sept 20th, 12:25pm) attempts to defend Rapist Greg. His main arguments are that despite his faults, his ambition to become a surgeon is noble (so noble that he's joined the army!) and his sexual behaviors are right on part with many of the other Mad Men characters. I'm not agreeing with him, but his post was very provocative.

- Joan took her bonkers status to a whole new level by demanding that Roger give it to her in that seedy, public stairwell. 

Ryan Howard takes on Arantxa Sanchez Vicario

- Don's new workout regimen has inspired me to go swimming. It's looks so refreshing! I'm going to LA Fitness this afternoon to play racquetball and will definitely be taking a dip afterward. I'm also very excited to take a shower there and dry my balls off with a hairdryer (and I'm not kidding!).

Mad Men: Joan Is Bonkers

Christina Hendricks is fast approaching level 9, off-the-charts bonkers status.

It has gotten to the point that anytime she walks onto the screen with her absolutely bonkers breasts, I find myself screaming at the television. Normally, I don't even actually form sentences, just awkward sounds as if she slugged me in the gut. I'm sort of starting to get angry at how hot she is.

Equally as frustrating is the lack of attention she's getting across the country for being so close to off-the-charts bonkers status! To this day, only three women in the history of western civilization have reached this level of off-the-charts bonkersnish. They are (in no particular order):

1. Elle McPherson
2. Kim Kardashian
3. Mariah Carey (circa 1997)

(We're talking about the Mariah who was recently separated from her husband, mentally unstable and wearing cut-off jean shorts in seemingly every public appearance. It was also at this time that I believe she killed a man by simply asking him to hold her flip flops.) 


While doing some research,* I found that Maxim Magazine did not even have Christina ranked in their 2010 list of the 100 hottest women! Even more ridiculous was the fact that since Mad Men debuted in 2007, Time Magazine has not named her Person of the Year once. In 2009, they gave it to some guy named Ben Bernanke while it 2008 it went to Barack Obama? This country needs to wake up and recognize.

At the very least, Big Red should be doing ads for Maybelline or Loreal or Triscuits. Are you telling me that you wouldn't buy 19 boxes of Triscuits if you saw an ad with Joan's red nail polish putting a piece of cheese on a cracker? I already have three boxes of Triscuits at my house and I don't even have a job.

The bottom line is that this woman and her bonkers butt are blowing peoples' minds. If we don't give Joan the attention that she deserves, she very well could end up dating Justin Beiber.

She sitting here, she supposed to be the franchise player and we in here talking bout Bieber!








*not really research