It’s astonishing how bloody liberating cable television is.
Since moving to the new apartment, we have been blessed with free cable television. I know this is an obvious oversight by the cable company and in any moment it will come crashing down. I’m expecting a surgical strike from the Shaw Cable SWAT team, to come bursting into the apartment in the middle of the night with shotguns and cable cutters. But until that moment I’m cherishing my new world of 70 channels like a kid stumbling across their parent’s prono collection. Finally, I can watch House and My Name is Earl in perfect clarity. Plus I have suddenly become addicted to two amazing shows.
The First show is Shalom in the Home. Yes, just like Matashyihu the draw of this is purely for the kitsch factor. Luckily it turns out to be just as rewarding. Who knew a show about a rabbi doling out beautiful advice from a walkie talkie in his large silver trailer would be such a rewarding hour of television? To make it all better, Rabbi Shmuley turns out to be far more warm and honest than the cybernetic Dr. Phil. Plus if the episode is far to mushy you can play one of the fun “Shalom in the Home” drinking games. Either take a shot everytime he says “shalom” or drink everytime a memeber of Shmuley’s army of children apears on the screen. Even better, if you don’t have cable, just download some podcasts to your Oy-Pod. Unreal!
The other show is Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares. This show is prefaced with a parental advisory and it is on the Food Network. Think about it? How can a cooking show to be prefaced with a parental advisory? Unless Emril started to use human flesh in his recipes, I never thought it would be possible. The idea is Ramsay goes in and saves promising restaurants from the verge of Bankruptcy. But instead of instituting a love fest of optimism, he essentially verbally abuses the kitchen staff until they can cook better. It’s amazing! In one verbal assault he stood nose to nose with the main chef and called him “a useless fucking twat.” Why because he couldn’t cook muscles. It’s this level of assholiness that brings a tear to my eye. Reaching this plateau of cruelty is one of my hidden goals in life.
Categories: The-World, The-Craziness,
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