An Award-Winning Disclaimer

A charming little Magpie whispered this disclaimer into my ear, and I'm happy to regurgitate it into your sweet little mouth:

"Disclaimer: This blog is not responsible for those of you who start to laugh and piss your pants a little. Although this blogger understands the role he has played (in that, if you had not been laughing you may not have pissed yourself), he assumes no liability for damages caused and will not pay your dry cleaning bill.

These views represent the thoughts and opinions of a blogger clearly superior to yourself in every way. If you're in any way offended by any of the content on this blog, it is clearly not the blog for you. Kindly exit the page by clicking on the small 'x' you see at the top right of the screen, and go fuck yourself."

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

On Being a Muppet

I've been thinking a lot about the Muppets lately.

This happens, I suspect, to people who watch TV shows On Demand, which we started doing about a couple months ago. Sometimes, one of us will look at the other and say,




If we're in a sillier mood, we'll catch up on "30 Rock" or "Sponge Bob" but, largely, it's the dramatic programming in which we tend to engage in "On Demand" world. On certain On Demand shows, (my wife is a big fan of the loud, profane, and delectable antics that ensue on "Cake Boss") they have paid endorsements by Disney that run instead of random, slot-machine-style commercials. There's a series of ads for Disneyland that feature the Muppets palling around, as they often do, with flesh-and-bone celebrities, or at least the modern interpretation of what a celebrity is.

No offense, big breasted hot chick in construction hat.

Because I am so frequently subjected to these Muppet ads (I know I can fast forward On Demand, but how do you fast forward Beaker or Gonzo and the fucking chicken lover? Maybe you can-- you're obviously made of harder stuff than I.) I think about the Muppets a lot.

And it can't be a picnic being a Muppet.

I know, I know, it isn't easy being green-- but that's just being selfish, Kermit. It isn't easy being brown or blue and it certainly can't be easy being Statler and Waldorf. I mean, I try to be critical, loud, obnoxious, and witty all the time, and every now and then it just falls flat.

Plus, being funny is hard enough without doing it while a hand is shoved up your ass. And, not for nothing, for the largest Muppets, sometimes an entire half-a-person is wedged all up in that shit.

I mean, what?!

I don't think people necessarily appreciate how multi-talented the Muppets are, either. In the Victorian music hall era, a performer wasn't a true performer unless s/he could act, sing, AND dance. They were conversant if not fluent in at least English and French, and those doing for-real opera learned Italian and German, which is no joke! Now, I don't know how many Muppets are multi-lingual, but they're pretty much ALL triple-threats when it comes to singing, acting, and dancing. I mean, shit, most of them play instruments, too-- it's not just Rolf pounding those horse-teeth or Kermit doing forward-rolls on that banjo.

This is a seriously talented group, and I think sometimes the viewing public takes that multi-faceted talent-spring for granted as we guzzle from it greedily.

The other incredible thing about Muppets is that, for all their constant engagement with real-life celebrities, they're never starstruck. You'll never see a Muppet drooling all over Taylor Swift's tank-top, hounding her for an autograph or a skin-sample. They're just not like that. They're down-to-earth. I mean, sure, they got a little excited about meeting Peter Sellers and Richard Simmons but, really, who wouldn't?

And I've never seen such an enclave who is so comfortable in their nudity. I mean, sure, Fozzie wears a hat and a tie but, aside from that, it's basically bareass-- and that sumbitch isn't exactly shapely, unless you consider a pregnant flour-sack shapely. It's like a goddamn nudist colony over there, and we all know Bunson's labcoat is for business hours only...

I wish more people I knew were Muppets. I wish my boss was a Muppet. I wish certain members of my family were Muppets. I think they'd be easier to tolerate, more huggable, more fun, more... fluffy. And more naked. That said, I wish more girls I knew in high school who played field hockey were Muppets.

Sometimes I wish I was a goddamn Muppet. I'd still wear a tie all the time, but I probably wouldn't bother so much with the pants. It's possible that being a Muppet would make me much more desirable in audition situations, because, while I can definitely act and I can passably sing, my dancing is rather appalling and leads certain choreographers to think I'm mentally challenged. I'll bet, if I were a Muppet, I'd be a better dancer. I'd be a funny looking Muppet, that's for sure, but, then again, I think most of us would. That blonde chick in Animal's band is certainly funny looking.

I wonder if I'd still look Jewish....


  1. I think I would like to spend a day in your head, just to see how it all works up there.

    I mean, I agree with all of your muppet observations, I just never would have got here without you. So I'm just curious how it all works.

  2. Dear Bored:

    How it all works?

    Trust me: it doesn't.

  3. Oh My Gosh! I feel exactly the same way! My friend Rainy and I do the "muppet face" in about 97% of photos taken of us together- she even gets googly eyed sometimes! We are totally muppets! Minus the hand up the ass.

  4. This was a thoroughly informative and enjoyable post. What a way to start a Wednesday morning. Thank you, Mr. Apron.

    Although your observations on muppet nudity mean that I'll never be able to look at Bunson again. I'm positively blushing!

  5. I'm not quite sure how I found this blog. I guess I followed a link to a link to a link... But this is great stuff.

    I'm your newest follower.


Got something to say? Rock on with your badass apron!