CLICK HERE AND ORDER PRINT ISSUE #7 TO READ MORE DAMN FUNNY ARTICLES IN OUR STORIES SECTION!
If you’ve ever wondered why people work a job eight hours a day, five days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, sometimes for so little pay that it doesn’t seem worth it, you’ve obviously never watched morning television. Much like every major tragedy in human history, morning television is at its worst on the weekdays. Where else will you see a woman who made a name for herself as an early-Nineties masturbation fantasy become the host of not one, but two network television programs?
Before, she was just \"Tyra Banks: host of popular Fox catastrophe America’s Next Top Model.\" Now, she’s \"Tyra Banks: the Top Model thing, and host of her own morning talk show.\"
And guess who watched it for the first time, taking extensive notes to give you the play-by-play? God, I love pain.
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 28TH
8:56 AM: I tune in a bit early. It’s one of those morning news programs, and it’s being filmed live from Louisiana where the Trinity Episcopal Church is talking about their group effort to help the countless victims of Hurricane Katrina’s wrath. As a treat, Gospel chanteuse CeCe Winans has surprised them with a live performance of some song about God being there for you. Wait, CeCe-- you’re talking about God Almighty, right? The same God that made Hurricane Katrina, and destroyed all these people’s wills to live? Just checking.
9:00 AM: Shit! This isn’t the right channel. That’s what I get for letting the Lord into my life so early in the day. Luckily, I found the right channel as the intro was telling me who the final guest would be. But I’ll let that be a surprise.
9:01 AM: Tyrannosaurus does a great job walking down three stairs. Everyone in the audience is going bananas for her. She high-fives some of them, proud of conquering those steps. And she should be. You go, girl.
9:04 AM: Today’s show is all about matchmaking. Goodyear Tyra’s taking it upon herself to play Cupid. Also, Frankie J. (a.k.a. \"Who?\") will treat us to a live musical performance. I hope it’s someone else’s performance.
9:07 AM: Our first segment begins with a video package of Holden and Nikki-- two relatively attractive and sadly single people in Los Angeles. They aren’t looking for meaningless sex. They want something more serious. Someone should remind them they’re in Los Angeles. Tyra sends them out on a blind date, where we learn that Nikki’s a little firecracker, and Holden is about as exciting as cystic fibrosis.
9:13 AM: Money in the Banks brings the hmph-y couple out to see if there’ll be a second date. Holden, being lonely and desperate, said, \"Yes.\" Nikki, being hot and liking guys with a pulse, denied him flat-out... on national television! Ah, Tyra-- crushing people’s wills to live in front of millions of viewers. And by \"millions\" I mean \"twelve\".
9:18 AM: Commercial break! Sweet, merciful minute-and-a-half of salvation. And it’s that Febreze commercial where the soccer mom sprays her car with it, and all the neighborhood kids come in and smell her seat. Dirty.
9:24 AM: We’re back, with the return of America’s sexiest virgin bachelor. Return? Correct me if I’m wrong, but hasn’t this TV train wreck only been airing for three weeks? Kinda early to be repeating guests, let alone guests who couldn’t even get a job as an extra at their own family reunion. His name is Johan. He looks like a mentally retarded David Schwimmer (there’s an oxymoron), and talks like Ludacris. He asks three bachelorettes serious questions in order to figure out which one is the perfect match for him. Because, you know, that’s how you find the perfect girl. Ask her things like, \"Would you date me if I had a funny voice?\" and \"Do you have any good dance moves?\" and \"Does me blowing this guy backstage make me look gay?\"
9:34 AM: This is what it feels like to undergo Chinese water torture while in a coma. And lucky me, there\'s a whole other half-hour to go. Tyra Sperm Banks introduces us to some poor girl who looks like a Halloween decoration and has a crush on her longtime guy friend. She wants to \"...take it to the next level.\" Oh, yeah. When I think \"progressive next step\", I think The Tyra Banks Show.
9:38 AM: Man, God must like me today, because this dude just rejected the chick on national television! Oh, the crying. Mwa-ha-ha!
9:44 AM: Remember the good old days, when Tyra Banks was pretty enough to be in your self-love Rolodex? Now, there is no Tyra. There is only Zuul. And she summons the demons to help some more couples. These particular demons are the hosts of some TV show called Foody Call. (Cute, like scarring.) The show’s premise is to help desperate dudes make culinary magic to put the fire back into their dying relationships, and they’re here today to give a demon-stration. They must have Ivy League doctorates in relationship counseling, because their advice is priceless: start the date off with a drink, eat pasta like Lady and The Tramp, etc. The big shocker is a homemade massage oil recipe made from olive oil, cinnamon, and mint leaves-- all things you have in your home. To which Tyra says, \"And the best thing about it is, all those ingredients are free!\" That’s right, Tyra. Groceries don’t cost money.
9:50 AM: Time for Frankie J! Thank God, too. I was hoping to hear someone who looks like Jamiroquai and sounds like an eleven-year-old girl falling to her death. Tyrano de Bergerac invites the teenage winner of an \"I’m Frankie J.’s Biggest Fan\" radio contest on to meet him. He gives her false hope and backstage passes, then gives the audience complimentary copies of his latest CD so he can honestly say 150 people own it.
9:56 AM: We cut back to Johandjob the Super Virgin and the lucky girl he chose on their first date. But I can’t see it very well because of this unventilated plastic bag I just tied over my head.
9:57 AM: Remember that final guest I saved as a surprise for you? Well, wonder no more: it’s the first eliminated contestant from the new season of America’s Next Top Model. You know, Tyra’s other show. Welcome to America, where hard work and dedication to a legitimate craft will afford you a small TV so you can watch some vapid automaton rake in more money than you can dream of by hosting not one, but two completely substance-less hours of major network programming.
And the best thing about it all? It’s followed by The Tony Danza Show. And you guys oppose abortion.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER PRINT ISSUE #7, WHICH FEATURES THIS ARTICLE AND MANY MORE!