First up, some art appreciation..."All Drunks Go To Heaven"
This was sent to ZFS! headquarters (my apartment) by long-time commenter, friend of the blog, and Rock n' Roll SuperJesus, Lioux, who created it using techno-science during what must have been either a moment of divine inspiration, or a mind-melting freak out brought on by huffing spray paint out of a White Castle sack. Either way, I think we can all agree that this is the finest piece of Photoshopped art ever created and it should be hung, at minimum, in a very sad, very dark bar.
Also, by reading these words, you've legally bound yourself to make this image your desktop photo for the next year or until your significant other leaves you for having a creepy man-baby angel fetish, whichever comes first. I'm sorry, I don't make the rules. (I totally make the rules; fuck your happiness)
Last night, I watched American Idol, followed by the premier of Hell's Kitchen, and then I capped the evening off with a new episode of Ace of Cakes, after which I promptly fell asleep listening to a rerun of Iron Chef. This all-reality line up of television tells you everything you need to know about me as a person. To wit:
American Idol - I really enjoy watching people worse off than me, however I also like hard-luck stories about people who's parents died and now they just want to sing because they think their songs will penetrate the atmosphere and their dead parents will hear them up in Heaven and fly back down on angel wings to give them one last hug. Shit like that gets me EVERY TIME. Also, you know when the people get sent through to Hollywood and they burst out the doors with the golden ticket and their families all go apeshit and the producers crank up whatever shitty Hoobastank song is playing and everyone cries? I cry along with them about 85% of the time. Basically, what I'm saying is... yes... of course I like to watch the dregs of society have their dreams smashed, but I'm also a total pussy who just wants people to succeed and be happy.
Hell's Kitchen - Gordon Ramsey reminds me a of a British version of an old football coach of mine who was literally the scariest person I'd ever met when I was fifteen. It was rumored that he (my football coach) was an ex-Navy Seal and one time he lifted me up with one arm and carried me around the field to prove a point; I forget what the point was, exactly, but I'll always remember it as being something along the lines of "Clinton is a sissy girl who's fear-peeing down his football coach's back." Anyway, watching Hell's Kitchen helps me face my fears and get over these long-standing traumas that have held me back all these years. On an entirely different level, it's fun to watch Gordon Ramsey yell at fuck-ups because he swears creatively and I appreciate that. The food, incidentally, has never... not once... mattered on Hell's Kitchen. It's all incidental; a medium to further instigate screaming fits, threats of violence, and... yes... additional master classes in the swearing arts. I have to respect a show that's ostensibly about food, but then isn't at all, ever.
Ace of Cakes - My enjoyment of this show kind of ties in with part of why I like American Idol. There is no drama whatsoever in Ace of Cakes; it's entirely a show about creative and talented people just trying to do a good job. That's it; that's the whole premise. And it's executed brilliantly because... they always do a good job!!! Okay, sure, every once in a while someone will spill food coloring on a cake, or some fondant will crack and they'll have to do an emergency repair job or something like that but... no matter what... skill and ingenuity always win the day and when the credits roll, everyone is smiling and best friends with each other and the viewer can go to sleep comforted that everything is a-okay in this crazy world of ours. I crave shows where it all works out in the end, and that can be extrapolated outward until you get to my true feelings on how I want the world to work. Ace of Cakes proves that I'm eternally an optimist, if perhaps a shockingly naive one who doesn't understand that the show's producer just edits out all the (many, I'm sure) times when things went wrong and they screamed at each other and one dude tried to cut another dude with a big, serrated cake knife. I want badly for my life to be edited like a pleasant reality show on the Food Network, I guess. Also, I would enjoy some cake.
Iron Chef - I really love food and wish that people would battle it out to prepare me food and then I could eat the food and judge them on the quality of their food and eventually pick a Food Champion who would then have to make me more food. This is my dream and one day it will be so.
Yesterday, while coming home from having lunch with a friend in the city, I saw the fattest policeman I've ever seen. He was SO FAT. I'm not a skinny dude by any means, as I've stated many times, but seriously... this guy made me look like a prima ballerina or a runway model in the 90s or like popular cartoon character Olive Oyl.
AND HE WAS A COP!!!
Think about that for a second; roll it around in your mind and tell me it does not boggle. How does he chase after criminals without his heart exploding ? Does he own an NYPD-approved Rascal? When he goes undercover, does he disguise himself as a building? Does he keep slices of ham in the pocket where his handcuffs are supposed to be? Ugh... so many questions! I should have talked to the fat cop when I had the chance, chubby-to-chubby. Instead, I just stared... gaped, really... contemplating all the various ways in which he was both literally and metaphorically a pig.
NOTE: All due respect to cops in general, of course. Haha... we're all buddies here! Don't arrest me! I'll never survive in jail! I'll be traded for cigarettes and made to perform burlesque shows at dinner! Horrible, horrible burlesque shows...