TV Gold: Cheaters

“It’s all fun and games until somebody gets V.D.” - Joey Greco

I’m always perplexed by people who claim not to watch TV.  Of course there are those who just don’t have time, but then there are those who seem to absorb some kind of highbrow pride from telling people they just don’t care for it.  Whatever.

I love Cheaters.  It may not be the most enlightening show, but I have books for that…I’ve read all of mine, but you get my point.  The greatness of Cheaters lies in its ability to never disappoint.  Ever.  You are bound to see the bottom of the belted-leather-jacket-wearing barrel in the most outrageous situations and walk away feeling 100% better about yourself.

Joey Greco: Captain C*ck-Block

The hosts make it funnier.  Joey Greco (is it just me or does he remind you a little bit of Prince?) was the original host, but in a textbook b*tch-move, he got stabbed and decided to punk out and only do commentary as opposed to being in the field.  Kidding.  This dude is a gangster.  It takes a serious set of balls to walk into a complete stranger’s home and start asking them questions.  He hasn’t gone without reprise, though.  The staff of the show have been attacked by people wielding actual guns, semi-automatic paintbull guns and replica katana swords.  This is fact.  No joke.  Just funny.

Funnier than the hosts?  The subjects.  You live in a small town near Fort Worth, TX.  You are cheating on your spouse or significant other.  Why on God’s green Earth are you taking your skeezer to eat at Applebee’s, where all of the other 80 people in your podunk town undoubtedly also eat on the weekends?  Even if Cheaters wasn’t involved, you’re on some special education little-school-behind-the-big-school sh*t.  The excuses are the best.

Actual Excuse:

Him: “Oh, that was my twin.”

Her: “You ain’t got no twin, Ray.”

Pure comedy bottled at the source.  There’s nothing like a formula to rely on to make a show great.  After the jilted man or woman goes so far as to contact Cheaters to track down their lover, they are nine times out of ten surprised at what Joey manages to find.  Do yourself a favor.  Put down that copy of War & Peace you claim to be reading and if you haven’t watched this show, catch it on The CW Plus and/or G4.

Can’t Front On: Curves & Thickness

Kendra C. Johnson portrayed a confident plus-size suitor to character Malik on CW series The Game

According to an article on CNN.com, size 14 is the new size 10 in terms of the American clothing industry.  Sounds drastic, but honestly, I’m not mad.  I just feel like the next person to say Kirsten Dunst (see inset below) is hot around me is catching a Chris Breezy early.  I was watching VH1’s The Great Debate and guys were actually impressed/aroused by Cameron Diaz’ panty-dance in the Charlie’s Angels film remake.  It’s one of those situations where you have to look around even though there’s no one around to look at just to make sure the sky isn’t falling.  If you don’t have a crease under your a**-cheek, then you officially don’t have a booty.  That’s called an an*s and a back.  This dance was the equivalent of watching DJ Qualls from Road Trip dance around in a blonde wig.  Suspect.

But a new day is upon us…

Kirsten Dunst: Stacked like a Jonas Brother...I threw up in my mouth a little bit when I first saw this pic.

Thanks to the healthy-as-a-horse, thick-as-a-thumb physiques of the likes of J. Lo, Kim Kardashian, Tocarra (don’t front, you’d hit it if she would just shut up for a second) and Beyonce, curves are back with a vengeance.  Comedienne Mo’Nique’s “Crazy In Love” dance at the BET Awards with a small army of big sistas a few years ago was (though somewhat frightening) a major turning point in full-figured TV exposure. 

Quite simply, to quote the late great Bob Dylan (wait, I’m being told he isn’t dead yet…my fault for rushing it), times they are a’changin’ and people are getting over the idea of touting girls the size of Bratz dolls as sex symbols.  I’m not knockin’ the skinny girls in any way, shape or form.  I’ve got razor-sharp elbows my damn self.  I’m just saying make room for the big girls.

So this is who Kirsten Dunst was supposed to be playing in the Spider-Man film franchise...something a little off? Yeah, like 50 pounds, 7 cup sizes and a whole heap of good looks...granted, Lockheed-Martin hasn't built this breed of w.g. just yet but they coulda made it at least remotely accurate...damn shame.

Cease & Desist: Men and Light Beer

Light beer in bulk exactly where it belongs.

I’ll admit to a little (or rather an excessive amount of) beer snobbery.  I laugh at Heinekens and would rather drink my own purified urine that put a canned beer to my lips in most cases.  Knowing this, I tried to avoid writing this post.  That was until 4th of July weekend, when someone tried to convince me that Miller Lite (a candy-a** 4.2% alcohol-by-volume) was the greatest beer of all time.  I didn’t even bother to argue…wasn’t worth the energy.  It would have ended badly.  Yet I still refrained from writing about light beer.  This morning, however, I was in line at Starbucks and overheard a seemingly normal man behind me in line order a non-fat half-caf soy latte or some such nonsense.  Not a beer, but still ridiculous.  And this sh*t has officially got to stop.

What they don't tell you is that this chick goes home with Guinness drinkers only.

Granted, I’m slim.  I don’t necessarily need to count calories, though it could be to my benefit.  But then, no man really should be counting them, at least noticably and in public.  I once heard a co-worker look up online and quote the calories and fat included in one serving of jelly beans, no lie.  The hair on my chest coiled up at hearing this nonsense.  Sh*t hurt my heart.  Now I’m not the average macho type…I don’t really pay attention to sports and I could give a sh*t about lifting weights, but sometimes, you just gotta let ‘em hang.  This obsession with fitness has just gone too gotdamn far.  So now we’re paying regular beer price for watered down beer that tastes like chilled hot dog water?  Really?  I’d rather give up beer altogether than order a weak substitute.  Word to B.A. Baracus.

It’s okay if you like light beer, honestly.  Order you and your crew that second round of Corona Lights, by all means (hope you broguht a designated driver).  I will just be forced to assume that you (a) know absolutely nothing about quality beer and/or (b) are adept at needlepoint and would like to be referred to as Nancy going forward.  Make sure you stick out your pinky while you sip it and cross your legs at the ankles.  I’ll be over here with this pint of real beer getting it in.  Deuces.