Boobies

So, most of you know that we recently acquired cable television in this house, for the first time in a looooooong time, as a result of the government's and HD-TV's wretched and incestuous comingling with the cable companies.

Bastards.

Much to my relief, this hasn't really altered our lifestyles all that much. We're still pretty hardcore about "The Today Show" in spite of my unalterable dislike of Meredith Vieira. Our palate/schedule still accomodates almost nightly viewings of "Jeopardy!" and semi-weekly installments of "COPS" (don't judge me!) and sometimes we'll even watch ABC World News Tonight to hear Charlie Gibson end his broadcasts with, "and I hope you had a good day,", sounding rather like Mr. Rogers. Of course, I can't imagine Mr. Rogers talking about Afghanistan wearing a $900 suit, but there we are.

I will admit that our viewing of "Sponge Bob Square Pants" has increased dynamically, and I am now intimately familiar with the episode where Mr. Crabs loses his special pre-historic dime and the one where Squidward gets his own TV show on Bikini Bottom Public Access. And I think my IQ just imploded.

Though it has not yet consumed our lives, I'm reasonably certain that having cable is going to make us stupid. I mean, sure, last night we went to the opera, and right now my wife is in bed reading a book without pictures, but this simply cannot last. I mean, Sponge Bob is fucking calling to me, people. Sooner or later, I will answer.

And quit my job.

After we did our regular six-month cleaning of our bedroom today in the sweltering heat and dog's mouth humidity, my wife, flopping on the couch to veg, found another program that will serve to destroy the few remaining synapses in our brains-- it's a show on MTV about women who are dissatisfied with their big breasts. Yes, you heard me right. Some of you deadasses out there might even already know what I'm talking about. Of course you do, you get your news not from Charlie Gibson, but from "The Daily Show" and from blogs.

Don't worry, soon I will be amongst you.

So, back to the titties, on MTV's discussion board, Kelso19 writes:

"Why doesn't MTV do a True Life - big boobs???? I personally struggle with extremely large breasts for my body.... It is probably the most frustrating thing that I have ever dealt with...No one makes anything for women who are thin with large breasts and it sucks...I would love to wear the things that my friends can wear, but I can't...I can't wear a strapless bra (They dont make them big enough), I can't wear a swim suit, if I want to wear a dress I always have to get a larger dress to fit my boobs and then get it altered to fit the rest of me.... I can't wear tank tops w/o looking HUGE...Oh and halter tops are out of the question... Everyone else loves me boobs but I have spent so much time crying b/c I can't wear 1/2 the clothes that I would like to....I really want to get my boobs reduced, but I don't have the money for it and my mom isn't always supportive of me getting a reduction...Anyway, I feel that it would be a good thing to shed light on people who are thin with breasts to big for their body....Just thought... P.S....There are more issues but I figured that I would just give a tid bit...."

Well, Dipshit19, I guess they finally heard you because, today, my wife and I were definitely flat-out on the couch watching three vapid, useless girls with with laundry bags for breasts moaning and crying about their tits for half-an-hour. Aaaand, after that was done, guess what aired next? MTV True Life: "My Boobs Are Too Small" where we got to see a Go-Go dancer from Philadelphia (yeah, way to represent da hood, Skeeter Bites!) crying about how she has to wear three push-up bras at the same time to create the illusion of cleavage for the obliteratedly drunk male clientele at her place of employment.

I know a girl who has a stump for a right hand. Can MTV do a show about her so these stupid twats can watch a show about people with real problems and then maybe they can all shut the fuck up? Seriously-- that's your big problem in life? You don't know whether to spend $15,000 on breast reduction surgery (that your insurance company won't cover because, actually, your breasts aren't really that big in the first place) or $12,000 on daily visits to a personal trainer and custom-fitted bras and tops for a year? Wow.

I don't know who's guiltier-- the dumb people on the shows, the dumb people who come up with the idea, the dumb people who produce, direct, write and edit the shows, or the dumb people who watch them.

One thing is for sure: the Kingdom of Dumbdom is at hand, and I've got a front-row seat. Just get your big tits out of the way so I can see.

The Lone Gunmen of the FCC

I'm not a conspiracy theorist.

Normally.

I don't think aliens brought down TWA Flight 800, I'm pretty sure John F. Kennedy wasn't killed by a Chinese midget dressed as a Dallas prostitute, and I am almost entirely convinced that Michael Jackson is really dead.

I do admit that there's a very small part of me that thinks that, at his funeral, he's going to jump out of the coffin and grab his crotch, hopefully with the gloved hand.

So, while I'm not someone who runs around his neighborhood wearing a tin-foil yarmulke to keep the government transmitters from being privy to my inner monologue, I am definitely convinced that the FCC is in bed with American cable television providers, and that the two entities are engaged in a sinister and insidious plot to force people to get cable.

You recall the Digital, High-Definition Revolution of June? Remember how it was originally supposed to take place in, like February or something? Well, apparently, many Americans "weren't ready."

Right?

Horseshitty-on-a-sticky!

Not enough holdouts had procured cable television for the scheme to be worthwile. So, the FCC said, we'll wait. We'll wait you antiquated, inbred motherfuckers out. People like, oh, I don't know, YOU, MR. APRON! Yes! We'll get you, and your stupid, gray dog, too.

Well, they got me. Today, they got me.

I called Comcast today.

I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't take it anymore.

Here's a list of the television programs we consume on a regular basis:

Action News (6:42am-6:58am) - Prime morning couch cuddle time.

The Today Show (7:00am-7:14am) - Gives me shit to bitch (I mean "blog") about.

Jeopardy (7:00pm-7:25pm)

SouthLAnd (10:00pm-11:00pm)

Antiques Roadshow (8:00pm-9:00pm)

Other shows are watched on a sporadic basis, but these are our mainstays. Our bread-and-butter, if you will. Since stations switched over to Digital, our reception has been spotty at best. Spotty is never a good thing to be, whether it's inside a pair of flowery panties, whether it's your credit, criminal or employment history, or whether it's your TV reception. You can move the fucking antenna every which way until your arms fall off-- it doesn't matter. Al Roker still stops and starts and stutters and cuts in and out as if he has a stutter, cerebral palsy, Tourettes, is being censored and shaken by a paint mixer, all at the same time.

Sometimes, the reception will be just fine forty-five minutes into an hour-long episode of SouthLAnd, and then, just when the dramatic action is at its pivotal moment, I'll move my left shoulder to get more comfortable and that's it. "NO SIGNAL" floats around in a quaint little box around a totally black screen. It might as well be a graphic depiction of a middle finger being inserted over and over again into the asshole one of those pudgy, strange IKEA cartoon men. In, out, in, out-- no more TV cop drama for you shitheads!

Not until you get... cable.

Cable promises crystal clear reception. No converter boxes. No fucking rabbit ears. No worrying if the goddamn dog's movements or anal expulsions of stankair will disturb the signal.

We already have Comcast for our internet, and, on every bill it says something to the effect of, "Problems with your digital signal? Consider Comcast television for a consistently clear picture."

Yeah. Fuck you, tweettwats.

My wife and I have been avowed and smug cable television holdouts for as long as we've known each other. Neither of us has had cable television since college. I don't know what it was like for Mrs. Apron, but I used to cut classes to watch certain cases on Court TV. I was, obviously, riveted to BBC America, and I don't use the word "riveted" lightly. I actually had rivets attached to my corneas that surgically connected them to the television set when BBC America programming was on. "Father Ted," "People Like Us," "Fawlty Towers," "MPFC," etc, etc. It was awful. Then again, my best friend at the time used to cut class to play "Zelda," but his GPA was consistently higher than mine, which leads me to believe that a.) I'm stupid and b.) cable television is more detrimental than video games, except for Grand Theft Auto, which everybody knows makes kids shoot policemen in the face and run over lines of joggers while shouting "GOURAAAAANGA!"

I'm disappointed and sad that we're getting cable television. The guy's coming over Sunday between 1 and 3. It sucks. I don't want it, and I feel like I've been totally gotten by the FCC/Cablevision conspiracy, but at least there's no alien autopsy being conducted in my basement, and at least my mother's not a peapod person.

And at least I'll never have to make the cold, hard decision between Acting II and Court TV, ever again.