Tag: csi

Guest Poster – Eddie McMayonnaise on Television!

As you know, nothing makes me angry. “Where are the rants, screaming and violent rage?” you often complain. I’m not capable of hateful thoughts, so my new guest poster, Lunenburg County Bugler’s star columnist Eddie McMayonnaise has volunteered to share his thoughts on things that make him want to smash things. Over to you, Eddie.

Eddie is cross!“Oooh, I’m So ANGRY!” About Television!

I love television! It’s a great way to avoid talking to Mrs McMayo, who is quite the most tedious company. But do you know what makes an even worse sound than Mrs McMayo – that’s right, the television!

Why do computers on TV shows like CSI: Las Vegas make lots of noise? Does your computer bleep and twitter every time you press a key? Mine just goes ‘ping!’ and crashes. Why is Gil Grissom’s computer better than mine? How come it takes five seconds for his computer to descramble a blurred CCTV image of a suspect, match his face to his fingerprints, detail his entire criminal record and alert a SWAT team to the dumpster he’s hiding in? In five seconds my computer is still wondering if it feels like opening Firefox. Bah!

TV - isn't not very realistic, is it??Why do sounds sound different on TV? Not just computers, but fights. When a burly cop inexplicably downs all weapons and punches the bad guy, we hear this really impressive “Phhhhhwwwattt” as the baddie’s teeth disappear down his throat. When I punch someone, I just hear the gentle click of my fingers dislocating. Bugger!

How come on TV when two people are having sex, they don’t shout out stupid things as they climax, or giggle nervously and make squelching noises like everyone else? How come no-one ever falls out of bed, comes too soon or shouts “Gross! Suck it yourself, you perverted freak!” like everyone else?

And afterwards they just get out of bed, slip on their clothes and go for a coffee. They don’t clumsily search for Kleenex or fumble about with sloppy condoms. Why aren’t they sticky?

Ohhhh, the TV makes me angry now! I’m off to kick a charity worker. Toodeloo!


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Kill Your Television: TV Shows Coming Soon?

Modern TV is rubbish

There’s something wrong with my TV. It only shows CSI. No matter which channel I flick to, I still see Gil Grissom prodding a mutilated carcass. Every fucking channel. The CSI team continues to probe blood-spattered bodies all evening. A perfectly coiffured woman slices into a cadaver and harps on about seminal fluid and slash marks. There’s a time and a place for seminal fluid and it isn’t while I’m eating my dinner.

My faulty TV is now subjecting me to a visual horror show. Sweaty fat guys weld motorcycles, plastic teenies squawk Whitney Houston songs and hyperactive Americans demand I buy Super Bam Power Juicer. Realizing this parade of televisual twats is what constitutes entertainment these days, I’ve decided to cash in and develop my own shows to flog to the networks.

Big Brother with a refreshing twist

Celebrity CSI: A reality show contestant is brutally murdered. A team of other reality show celebrities don rubber gloves and tap bleeping computers to work out who did it. Of course this being a reality show, the unlucky celeb will be sacrificed for real. The victim’s family should be informed of their loss live on TV – think of the ratings!

Infomovies: Movies are practically two-hour long infomercials these days (yes David “Ooh, product placement all over my new movie! Nike! Buy Nike!!” Schwimmer, I’m talking to you). Why not have movie-length commercials? Get Brad or George to pump the Bowflex® Home Gym for two hours. Throw in a sub-plot involving terrorists, homicidal pirates and a shower scene and you’re on to a Bowflex® marketing winner.

Everybody Loves Everybody: Nice middle class family (with a seemingly endless supply of money) headed by lovable chubby guy called Jim. Crime, disease and ethnic minorities do not exist in Jim’s world, apart from one token black friend who gets all the worst lines. Hilarious plots include:

– Jim sneaking out to watch the ball game – just wait until Mrs. Jim finds out!
– Jim arguing with his cantankerous mother-in-law. She’s not bitter because she’s lonely and marginalized, of course.
– Trailer trash neighbour stealing the lawn mower, barbeque etc. Stupid poor people are funny!

It’s a tried and tested sitcom formula so why do anything else?

Nice Fluffy Family Happy Fun Time: To keep those right-wing religious zealots happy, I’m developing a family show just for them. Imagine a wholesome hour filled with children’s spelling bees, jolly songs about Jesus and how lovely he is, children petting puppies, jolly ladies doing jigs, puppies judging spelling bees and jigging children petting Jesus. And knitting. There should be a lovely knitting segment, with sweaters and spinning and jigging. None of those nasty liberal wool colours like indigo and orange. Just nice shades of beige. Amen.

Cherubic children's Christian Choir. You have been warned.

House on Houses: Cranky medic Dr Gregory House helps young couple get on the property ladder by showing them around overpriced apartments (how the hell young couple can afford them is a mystery). Deal closes just in time for House to rush back to hospital to save a young girl from Lupus etc, etc.

Why struggle for original ideas and innovation when you can make easy money recycling the same old formats over and over? And if it makes Rupert Murdoch and Jim Shaw even more money, it can only be a good thing.
Can’t it?


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Tiggy’s Hollywood Movie

You like me, you really... oh, maybe not.

I didn’t know what Hollywood scriptwriters looked like until I saw them on the picket lines during the recent writers’ strike. They looked normal enough – they didn’t drive up in their Ferraris flashing botox smiles like Tinsel Town big shots. They wore normal clothes, had normal faces and probably had messy houses and an overdraft like everyone else.

Hollywood needs them. Can you imagine if they were filming CSI: Las Vegas and the director says to the cast “Hmmm, maybe someone can pretend to be dead, here’s some fake blood. Fucked if I know, just make it up as you go along…” Gil Grissom wouldn’t look like such a know-it-all forensic fancy pants then.

Awesome Movie
Maybe I had what it took to be a movie screenwriter. Stupidly, I wondered out loud to my friends how easy it must be. All you need is to think up some characters, put them in a situation and then resolve that situation, somehow, in about 95 minutes. Go on, my friends said. At least come up with an idea.

My movie script needed careful planning. I had to come up with fascinating characters and an intriguing plotline with plenty of twists. Half an hour of solid work through my lunch break later, I had the foundations of my awesome movie – a dark road trip comedy with a clever subplot. I’d hardly finished my cup-a-soup as I typed out my synopsis. I am in the wrong job, I thought. Just wait until my friends read this. I wonder which producer will call me first?

Hot Dog-Eating Monkeys
My friends’ reviews were lukewarm. “Um, Tiggy, hasn’t this been done before?” “I don’t get that bit about the monkey and the hot dog eating contest…” “I’ve noticed one major flaw in your plotline…”

What a bunch of loser armchair critics. How dare they trash my idea! I played the whole movie back in my mind – it was fantastic! I’d pay to see it several times at a theatre. I sulked like a diva for the rest of the day.

Maybe I’m not cut out to be a screenwriter. The pressure to come up with original, logical and entertaining material is too much for me. The trauma of a rejected idea is unbearable. These Hollywood writers must have a thick skin, even without the botox.


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