Springer
Posted by Shawn Romance
It has been a long time since I was able to watch the greatest show on television. In two minutes, I have seen approximately 40 punches thrown and two obese men standing shirtless on stage, except for the ties they are both sporting. The object of their affection is a toothless, white trash slut whose vagina is looser than Dick Cheney’s trigger finger.
“Ding Ding”. Another fight erupts to cheers of “Jerry”, and yet I wonder how they can maintain this prizefighter stamina. Jabs and left hooks are flying through the air past the heads of the “bouncers” who actually are laughing more than the audience. Watching this is like sitting through a southern family reunion (sorry Bob), somehow a brother and sister just started making out.
No bell this time just an all-out brawl after the truth is revealed that there is yet another man involved. Somehow this behemoth is bigger than the others, apparently this man has time in between feedings to fuck this broad. Finally the woman makes it on stage and slaps one of the men for no apparent reason. Could this be scripted any better? I imagine an episode of 24 has more twists and turns than Springer, but I’m sure that this dribble won’t win an Emmy. There is only a half an hour left and still some neo-nazi will try to kill a transvestite before it’s over.
But what I’m really waiting for is what Mr. Springer is going to say at the end of the show to justify this debacle. I can picture something about lost love and tulips. However, deep down I know that it will involve one last fat joke, or guests jumping into the crowd because an audience member called them a douche-bag.
“Jerry, Jerry!” this somehow can erupt a room with the effect a semi-automatic gunfire. Automatic would be too quick and it would be too bloody, you have to let them know you’re in the room first and then unleash the missiles. I can’t wait to shower and rid myself of this awful feeling of southern hospitality. But wait, there is no way to turn away now, another man (shirted) is on stage whimpering about losing his home due to his wife’s Home Shopping Network addiction. And the zinger, of course, she’s sleeping around on him. He loves her, however, and that’s okay. Until he realizes that his best friend is the one doing her doggy style every afternoon. The bell rings, Jack Johnson and Rocky Marciano are going at it, when the pile of human trash is unearthed they are now shirtless. They tire much quicker than the previous guests and this “Title” bout is not living up to its hype. It amazes me that both are still wearing their ties as if their man breasts are not exposed.
Then it happens: “blurred” titties what we were all waiting for. Life is good again, and I completely forgot everything up to that moment. Tomorrow I will turn on the tube and realize that I shouldn’t be watching this crap, but it will turn into an endless cycle and it will always end with Jerry wishing me well. But who the fuck am I kidding I can’t watch the next 15 minutes, I have already watched what’s about to engulf the Chicago studio. So Jerry I have two words for you “semi automatic.”
It has been a long time since I was able to watch the greatest show on television. In two minutes, I have seen approximately 40 punches thrown and two obese men standing shirtless on stage, except for the ties they are both sporting. The object of their affection is a toothless, white trash slut whose vagina is looser than Dick Cheney’s trigger finger.
“Ding Ding”. Another fight erupts to cheers of “Jerry”, and yet I wonder how they can maintain this prizefighter stamina. Jabs and left hooks are flying through the air past the heads of the “bouncers” who actually are laughing more than the audience. Watching this is like sitting through a southern family reunion (sorry Bob), somehow a brother and sister just started making out.
No bell this time just an all-out brawl after the truth is revealed that there is yet another man involved. Somehow this behemoth is bigger than the others, apparently this man has time in between feedings to fuck this broad. Finally the woman makes it on stage and slaps one of the men for no apparent reason. Could this be scripted any better? I imagine an episode of 24 has more twists and turns than Springer, but I’m sure that this dribble won’t win an Emmy. There is only a half an hour left and still some neo-nazi will try to kill a transvestite before it’s over.
But what I’m really waiting for is what Mr. Springer is going to say at the end of the show to justify this debacle. I can picture something about lost love and tulips. However, deep down I know that it will involve one last fat joke, or guests jumping into the crowd because an audience member called them a douche-bag.
“Jerry, Jerry!” this somehow can erupt a room with the effect a semi-automatic gunfire. Automatic would be too quick and it would be too bloody, you have to let them know you’re in the room first and then unleash the missiles. I can’t wait to shower and rid myself of this awful feeling of southern hospitality. But wait, there is no way to turn away now, another man (shirted) is on stage whimpering about losing his home due to his wife’s Home Shopping Network addiction. And the zinger, of course, she’s sleeping around on him. He loves her, however, and that’s okay. Until he realizes that his best friend is the one doing her doggy style every afternoon. The bell rings, Jack Johnson and Rocky Marciano are going at it, when the pile of human trash is unearthed they are now shirtless. They tire much quicker than the previous guests and this “Title” bout is not living up to its hype. It amazes me that both are still wearing their ties as if their man breasts are not exposed.
Then it happens: “blurred” titties what we were all waiting for. Life is good again, and I completely forgot everything up to that moment. Tomorrow I will turn on the tube and realize that I shouldn’t be watching this crap, but it will turn into an endless cycle and it will always end with Jerry wishing me well. But who the fuck am I kidding I can’t watch the next 15 minutes, I have already watched what’s about to engulf the Chicago studio. So Jerry I have two words for you “semi automatic.”
This entry was posted by Ben Myers, on
Tuesday, March 21, 2006.
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