Posts Tagged ‘American idol’

Reality, really?

June 2, 2012

I recently saw a commercial for a new television show that features Howard Stern, Howie Mandel and Ozzie Osbourne’s wife judging whether people have talent. I will wait as you chuckle at the irony of this. Believe me, I did. After doing so my first thought was I would rather be locked in a room with Jeffrey Dahmer, Sarah Palin and a tiger shark then be forced to watch such a show. The second thought was that reality television has taken over TV and threatens to take over the world leaving us all brainless.

When I watch TV I do so to escape from reality not to observe it. I want to see well written and acted shows that make me laugh, keep me in suspense or make me want to be David Duchovny. However, it seems like people who share my taste for traditional drama instead of “baby daddy” drama are in the minority.

The general television viewing audience has become obsessed with watching other people’s lives unfold before their eyes. What makes no sense to me is, if people are so interested in real life why are they observing it through a television screen? No matter how big or how high a definition a television you have the picture is never going to be better than what you get in real life. No matter what reality television show your brain claims you like real life has a better alternative to offer.

American Idol is a perfect example. Every time I see a commercial for it I wonder how it is possibly still on the air. Why would anyone choose to watch this show? You have a pimple-covered teenager belting out an off-key rendition of Journey while Stephen Tyler’s corpse humps a table. That doesn’t sound appealing. I would much rather go out and see a talented, local band like the Paragraphs rather than subject myself to FOX’s take on live music.

The sad phenomenon of reality television got its start on MTV when in 1992 they released The Real World. The popularity of that show proved that people were interested in spying on other people’s lives. The Real World flourished and before you knew it reality television had taken over MTV. What had once been a network where you could find quality music videos made by creative people turned into a joke that only played mindless reality shows designed to make the viewer dumber.

Unfortunately all these shows are different variations of the same concept. Just throw a bunch of people who are pre-destined not to get along, shove them in a house or on a island or a fishing boat and watch the sparks fly as people stop being polite and start talking shit for real. That’s formula one. Formula two is as follows: They put someone on stage who claims to be funny or play music or just simply because they are grossly overweight. Then they assemble a panel of former celebrities who haven’t been famous for five years and call them judges or coaches or dance partners. Lastly they allow you, the general television viewing audience, to text message which contestant is your favorite. The winner of the show gets to be a judge five years from now.

There is no creativity in these shows even if they are, as I believe, scripted just like a fictional program would be. I agree that writing anything takes creativity but when the end result is in the form of a reality television show that rule gets thrown out the window. How stimulated can one’s creative side truly be when they are watching rich housewives throw fake charity parties that always predictably end with a cat fight between two women who have so much plastic injected into them that they could both pass for action figures?

Real life changes constantly, that’s what makes it real. Reality television on the other hand is always the same which leads me to believe it isn’t really real, but is simply poorly crafted garbage written by ass clowns not talented enough to write a witty crime drama. I believe that the writers of reality television, if you choose to call them that, put the plot on paper and then allow the “real people” they are filming to act in response to the script they are handed.

I can’t help but laugh at people who truly believe that every minute of the reality television they watch is really happening on the fly with no sort of preparation for what is playing out on camera. I believe it is somewhat naïve to think that a television network would ever allow that sort of freedom to be seen. Freedom is the last thing television networks want us to have.

With freedom comes power and with too much of that people might start turning their televisions off. Networks can’t have that. To prevent such an outrage they dumb down their programming just enough to keep the average viewer stimulated, but not deeply enough to require thought. The more of this sort of programming you view the less important your brain becomes because you no longer need it to be entertained. Then one day every free thought that might have popped into your head has been replaced with season two of Jersey Shore and once you reach that point you are fucked .

I recommend taking your brain back before that happens to you. Remind yourself of what it feels like to think freely. If you want to relax and watch a little television choose something that will keep stimulating your brain like an old school episode of X-Files. Or turn off the television and read a book, like Love Life, my second novel which will be available soon on Amazon and Kindle. If that doesn’t interest you then simply walk outside and see what real life is really like.

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The Whistle Won’t Work

April 14, 2012

There is a special place in hell for anyone disrespectful enough to whistle at a bartender in an attempt to get their attention. In fact I believe that in this unique corner of hell those culprits who have been caught whistling rudely in their past are forced to watch repeat episodes of American Idol on full blast with hourly intervals of random Stained songs that get pumped through a musical catheter of sorts injecting depressing, repetitive, shitty music into their bodies via their private parts.

When I walk my dog I usually let him off the leash so that he may shit and piss freely. If he runs off or is hidden behind a bush I will on occasion whistle in an attempt to get him to come back to me. It works great on a dog because they are simple creatures who can’t necessarily comprehend words, so loud noises are one of the few ways to communicate with them.

Bartenders are not dogs. Therefore just because your Bud Light bottle is empty doesn’t give you the right to treat them like one. Believe me “bro” you waiting an extra twenty seconds to get a fresh bottle of domestic piss won’t kill you but whistling at a bartender might. We are a prideful bunch who put up with a lot of shit on a nightly basis and if you whistle at the wrong grumpy English bartender on a day that his favorite football team has lost to a girl’s high school soccer team it may prove to be the last thing you do on this earth.

The sound of a whistling drunk can make your skin crawl and when it is directed at you the urge to kill can be overwhelming. You must fight this urge with every bone in your body. Murder is the easy way out for both of you. Anyone ignorant enough to whistle at a bartender must be scolded and punished in a loud enough manner to embarrass them in front of everyone else sitting at the bar. It is important to let them know that you are not a dog. You then must explain to them that if they ever whistle at a bartender again they will be 86ed from drinking alcohol anywhere including in their own basement. Then, based on their response you decide whether or not you have the large man standing on the door break both their legs.

At the very least, whistling at the bartender is a great way to go thirsty for the rest of the evening. Not only will you be skipped, but you will be ignored in such a blatant manner that no matter how dumb you are you will get the fact that you fucked up. If you whistle at me I will help everyone else in the entire bar even if I have to start offering table service before I will even consider serving you again. I will tell my barback to go on break so I can run glassware in lieu of pouring you anything. I will enter every credit card slip into my computer as slowly as possible so that you may crave your drink for just a little longer. And then once I have no viable way to possibly ignore you anymore I will smoke a cigarette.

I bet you are wondering if you can’t call a bartender bro or sugar nipples or big dog or baby or snap your fingers or scream or whistle, how are you ever going to get a drink around here? The answer to that is only found when one truly understands that using these words or whistling is actually not going to get you served faster. It will give you just the opposite. Bartenders have a great memory and hold a grudge all the way to their grave. Once you are labeled a whistler you are a whistler for life. In fact other bartenders who you haven’t ever whistled at will be able to recognize you for what you are and the drinks will continually be coming out slower and slower until one day when they finally stop.

You the general drunken public should be offended as well. The last thing you want as you’re peacefully sipping a frosty pint is for some bag of dick to stroll up to the bar and whistle as loud as he can. I recommend the next time this happens you stop what you are doing and stare at the culprit in disgust. Feel free to point and I highly encourage you alert others that there has been a serious bar infraction. Let’s make it clear to this disrespectful douchebag and those like him that we as a people will not stand for that sort of behavior any longer .

You’re Cut Off!

February 19, 2012

I take pride in serving alcohol in a responsible manner and over the years have had to cut off a lot of people. Its funny how once people reach the point of being cut-off they all share common personality traits. There are five stages a drunk goes through when they reach the point of being cut-off. Not every drunk achieves all five stages, but I guarantee most of them will and those that don’t will possess at least one of them.

Stage one is denial.

“I’m not drunk bro.”

“Are you serious? This is only my ninth drink.”

“No I haven’t been drinking elsewhere.That Coors Light can I threw in your ashtray was trash I found on my way in.”

They will argue in favor of their sobriety despite slurred speech and unstable legs that leave them swaying. What’s amazing is that they try so hard to act sober they forget that we are. I am the one who served you those three Long Island’s so I know you’re shitfaced.

Stage two is justification.

“My girlfriend just cheated on me.”

“It’s my bachelor party/birthday/new baby.”

“I’m not driving.”

The driving justification is by far the most commonly used. I applaud the responsibility you are taking in not driving drunk, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you pass out in a pool of your own vomit while you wait for a cab ride home. The bottom line is I am not going to risk my livelihood because the person you voted for on American Idol got voted off nor would I because your long lost mother just overdosed on pain killers. It doesn’t matter why, all that matters is you’re cut-off.

Stage three is a mix of bribery, financial posturing and threat of legal action.

“I will pay you seventy-five dollars for a shot of Jager.”

“Do you know who I am? I could buy and sell this place in a heartbeat.”

“I’m calling my lawyer and am going to sue the fuck out of this place.”

It’s funny how when people get really drunk they become extremely wealthy and have a team of lawyers on the ready to financially rape anyone who does their super client wrong. It’s even funnier when that person is a twenty-two year old pretty boy with skinny jeans and an open chest shirt that just ten minutes earlier could barely scrounge together four bucks for a beer of the month. The bottom line is it doesn’t matter how much money you have spent in the past, how much money you were going to spend in the present or how much money you might spend in the future. A good bar sees past money and puts more faith in their reputation than the bottom line.

Stage four is the stage of verbal threats of physical harm.

This stage is most popular with the guys. Once you tell a man he can’t drink for some reason he equates that to you questioning his manhood. In retaliation to their liquid castration they believe fighting is the only answer.  A fight is usually evaded and even if it occurs I will take a sober pair of fists over a drunken pair, especially when there are multiple employees and regulars ready to defend the honor of the bar.

When women engage in this stage it can get downright vulgar. An angry intoxicated woman is one of the most dangerous creatures known to man. Get ready for the curse words to flow and believe it or not expect some physical threat to be involved. They might not threaten that they will fight you, but their “crazy” boyfriends will crush your spine with their pinkie. They will tell you how small your penis is and on occasion accuse you of being a racist, as one blonde hair, blue eyed Italian did, clearly not knowing that my last name is Avella.

Stage five is a total emotional breakdown.

This is my least favorite stage. I would much rather get punched in the face then have to deal with some weeping guy who just wanted to fight me five minutes ago drunkenly sob into my shoulder. There is generally a reference to their justification stage before Niagara Falls officially opens up on their face. This stage can last all night and the level of babysitting involved is nauseating, but necessary. If they slip back to stage four because you are being a dick about them crying then beware of the wounded tear soaked bro now with double public castrations to overcome.

With over a 1000 cut offs on my stat sheet I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but believe me I am. As an expert and dedicated social researcher I promise to bring more reports from the front lines of human douchebaggery and the absence of sense amongst the over intoxicated masses.


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