CBS at 75...

...just means a bunch of old fogeys in a room patting each other on the back. Seriously. Most of the CBSers that were actually funny? Dead. Those that were alive were either comatose or boring.

With the exceptions of John Schneider and Tom Wopat. Dude. *floves the Dukes boys*

Perhaps TV Guide Online said it best in The Watercooler: "CBS's self-congratulatory special had a ton of clips; but what it had the most of was uncomfortably long and strangely timed reaction shots of the celebrity audience. (Hey, there's Loni Anderson saying something we can't hear to Howard Hessman! Look, the guy next to Dennis Weaver just took a sip of water!) Still, it was a treat to see footage of shows that I've only heard about, but have never seen before, like Our Miss Brooks and The Jack Benny Show. And John Schneider and Tom Wopat each deserve a new car with doors that actually open for singing all those theme songs."

Do you want to know the full extent of the beauty of their bit? They harmonize beautifully. They play off each other beautifully. JS mooed. *falls over in giggles* I had moments of near giddy laughter just because of the mooing. Seriously. John? You do the silly so well.

I now demand from Almiles a comedic episode completely centered around Jonathan Kent, because John Schneider being silly is fun. I want Jonathan and Clark and Martha just being silly and lighthearted, a day with no stress. But especially Jonathan. I want to see happy dad.

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In NASCAR related news: Junior won! Junior won! *does the squealy happy dance* My Baby won! Be glad I did my free audblog *before* the race. Because you all would have been subjected to me squeeing over Junior and AsshatNewman and the points shuffle.

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My movie blitz for the weekend was fairly successful. Margaritas make me quite sleepy, so I only got through one movie on Friday night: Tremors. Lovely bit of cheese. Kevin Bacon is great redneck funny. The worm is always freaky amusing.

Saturday consisted of Ghostbusters, which resolidified my Egon love, made me appreciate Winston again as the normal one, educated me on the geekiness that was Ray, and confused me as to why any woman with a brain would have chosen Peter. Hey, I love Bill Murray. He's brilliantly funny. But why would anyone willingly chose Peter based on the jerk we saw? Huh.

Later on Saturday (after taking a break to make a margarita) I watched Alien. I have never seen it before, so it was cool. New and informative. I have to say, I really liked it, although I now want to see it in the theater.

Since margaritas make me sleepy, I finished Alien on Sunday morning. That afternoon I watched Jaws for the first time. Holy...I love that movie. Love it. Freaked me the hell out (as scary animal movies are wont to do). My poor dog hated me by the end of the movie. I spent a good portion curled up on the couch, clutching the dog and whimpering whenever the "duh duh" kicked in.

Tonight after Fear Factor is Rosemary's Baby, the last in the Fright Five. I'm looking forward to that one. Hee!

Guide to understanding Southern men.

Here is probably an entry in the guide to understanding southern men. As raunchy as they may be, as foul mouthed, gutter trash, utterly deplorable as their behavior may get, when it comes to being in the public with women, they turn into gentlemen.

Evidence:

From NASCAR.com

A smiling Dale Earnhardt Jr. was busy answering questions from the media after winning Sunday's Checker Auto Parts 500 at Phoenix International Raceway when he got an unexpected surprise.

A female fan, who got to a window in the media center on Earnhardt's left, lifted up her pink shirt and exposed her breasts. An embarrassed Earnhardt turned a whiter shade of pale before chuckling.

"Lookie that," Earnhardt Jr. said as the room burst into laughter. "He missed it. I don't owe her nothing."

"Man, it gets crazier and crazier, don't it? The demographic is changing. I hope it keeps changing."

Dale is by no means a prude, nor is he prissy or easily embarrassed, but he blushed. Hee.