The Costanza Rules

As I said earlier in the week, I'm finally breaking down and going to a clinic to have my gout checked out. But of course it's not embarrassing enough I have to go to some free clinic, no no, get this - I have to meet with a social worker to prove that yes, I am in fact brokedick poor enough to qualify to go to the clinic. Wow. I hope they tape these things and give me a copy. I have a feeling my walking her through how poor and stupid I've been would be tres entertaing...which, OF COURSE, brings it back to (as all life does) George Costanza. Just like when he won over the co-op board to allow him to move into an apartment in lieu of a survivor of the Andrea Doria.

[Setting: Jerry’s apartment]
GEORGE: So, he's keeping the apartment. He doesn't deserve it, though! Even if he did suffer, that was, like, 40 years ago! What has he been doing lately?! I've been suffering for the past 30 years up to and including yesterday!
JERRY: You know, if this tenant board is so impressed with suffering, maybe you should tell them the "Astonishing Tales of Costanza".
GEORGE: (Interested) I should!
JERRY: I mean, your body of work in this field is unparalleled.
GEORGE: I could go bumper to bumper with any one else on this planet!

[Setting: Tenant board room]

(Mr. Eldridge is telling his story to the board members. Each one looked touched by the tale. George, on the other hand, is bored to death. He's leaning back in his chair in the corner of the room, knocking on the wall - to display how bored he is)

ELDRIDGE: Just then, a rescue ship emerged from the fog and saved us. It was.. (Stops, then gives George a look. George stops knocking on the walls) It was the sweetest sight my eyes ever saw.
RICARDI: (Touched) Thank you Mr. Eldridge. The tenant board will now hear Mr. Costanza's testimony.

(George gets up, walks over to Mr. Eldridge, then gestures for him to give up his chair. Eldridge reluctantly gets up and takes George's seat in the corner)

[cut to scene]

(George is telling the board his astonishing life stories. Every board member seems to be deeply moved by them)

GEORGE: I was handcuffed to the bed.. In my underwear, (Sighs) where I remained.. (Scene cuts to another story) She was attractive.. She was, also, infact, a Nazi.. (Cuts to another story) The water.. that I had been swiming in was.. very cold. And, when I dropped the towel, there was.. significant shrinkage.. (Scene cuts to, yet, another story) Her parents were looking at me.. So, there I was, with a marble rye hanging from the end of a fishing pole.. (Scene cuts to his closing statements) In closing, these stories have not been embellished, because - they need no embellishment. They are simply, horrifyingly, the story of my life as a short, stocky, slow witted bald man. (Gets up) Thank you. (Every memeber of the board shows some sign that George's story is most deserving of the apartment. Ricardi is crying. George turns to leave, then remembers one more thing..) Oh, also.. my fiance died from licking toxic envelopes that I picked out. (Sobs and loud crying erupts from the board members) Thanks again. (Leaves. Eldridge looks defeated)

Circular Costanza

I noticed it the other night when he was on Bill Maher too - why the fuck is George Costanza wearing a rug? Gawker gets it right:

The worst part is that there was a whole Seinfeld episode about how George's toupee was silly and ugly. Jason Alexander acted out the thing and yet didn't absorb the "silly and ugly" part at all. This is like the time Lindsay Lohan was in Mean Girls, a good movie about living a fulfilling life by being yourself, and then proceeded to become a sad, lonely drug addict obsessed with fame.

That Seinfeld episode was of course The Beard, nominated by me to be the single best episode, and featured maybe the greatest George line ever:

"Remember - it's not a lie if you believe it."

So now, instead of merely life coming down to Costanza, we have Costanza himself bringing art to life…while doing The Opposite?

Whoa. My mind is officially fucking blown.

My Next Project

Go through an entire day speaking only in Costanza quotes verbatim without anyone picking up on it.

Hey, you gotta have goals.

Just remember, it's not a lie if you believe it.

Was that wrong? Should I not have done that? I tell you, I gotta plead ignorence on this thing, because if anyone had said anything to me at all when I first started here that that sort of thing is frowned upon... you know, cause I've worked in a lot of offices, and I tell you, people do that all the time.


It became very clear to me sitting out there today that every decision I've made in my entire life has been wrong. My life is the complete opposite of everything I want it to be. Every instinct I have, in every aspect of life, be it something to wear, something to eat - it's all been wrong. 

I lie every second of the day. My whole life is a sham. 

Do you ever get down on your knees and thank God you know me and have access to my dementia? 

You know I always wanted to pretend I was an architect. 

The sea was angry that day, my friends - like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli. I got about fifty feet out and suddenly the great beast appeared before me. I tell you he was ten stories high if he was a foot. As if sensing my presence, he let out a great bellow. I said, "Easy, big fella!" And then, as I watched him struggling, I realized that something was obstructing its breathing. From where I was standing, I could see directly into the eye of the great fish.

I have a bad feeling that whenever a lesbian looks at me they think "That's why I'm not a heterosexual." 

Divorce is always hard. Especially on the kids. 'Course I am the result of my parents having stayed together so ya never know. 

When she threw that toupee out the window, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I feel like my old self again. Neurotic, paranoid, totally inadequate, completely insecure. It's a pleasure. 

My father was a quitter, my grandfather was a quitter, I was raised to give up. It's one of the few things I do well. 

I don't think I've ever been to an appointment in my life where I wanted the other guy to show up. 

Shut your traps and stop kicking the seats! We're trying to watch the movie. And if I have to tell you again, I'm gonna take you outside and show you what it's like. Do you understand me? Now, shut your mouths or else I'll shut them for you... and if you think I'm kidding, just try me. Try me. Because, I would LOVE IT!

So I tell her, 'I think I should leave now'. And she looks at me surprised as if she couldn't understand what had just happened and why I was leaving... The only excuse that I could fathom would be acceptable is to tell her that I am indeed Batman, and I'm sorry I just saw that Bat signal out the window. 

Parking at a garage is like going to a prostitute. Why pay for it when you can apply yourself, and then may be you can get it for free. 

Yeah. I figured since I was lying about my income for a couple of years, I could afford a fake house in the Hamptons. 

But I really want to leave my mark this time. Like remember that summer at Dairy Queen when I cooled my feet in the soft serve? 

I just threw away a lifetime of guilt-free sex and floor seats for every sporting event in Madison Square Garden. So please, a little respect. For I am Costanza, Lord of the Idiots.

I was free and clear. I was living the dream. I was stripped to the waist eating a block of cheese the size of a car battery.

You ask me to have lunch, tell me you slept with Elaine, and then say you're not in the mood for details. Now you listen to me: I want details and I want them right now. I don't have a job, I have no place to go. You're not in the mood? Well you get in the mood! 

So you really think Morgan thinks I have a racial bias? This is so unfair. I would've marched on Selma if it was on Long Island.

Okay, uh, look, if you want to just keep on doing the same old thing, then maybe this idea is not for you. I, for one, am not going to compromise my artistic integrity. And I'll tell you
something else, this is the show and we're not going to change it.

Say Whhhhat?

I opened up this week'a "new" book An Unfinished Life and was immediately met with this quote:

"Think where man's glory most begins and ends,
And say my glory was I had such friends" - William Butler Yeats

hmmm, I said to myself. I've heard that quote before. Where have I heard that one before?

Then I remembered: it was a quote from George to Elaine on a birthday card. I immediately shut the book. Can I really take a book such as this seriously if it kicks off with a Costanza quote? I mean, is this what it's come to...everything really DOES come full cycle to Costanza, and that's just how my life is gonna be? Wow.

I've had it
here
and
here
and
here

Jesus. Life really DOES reflect Costanza!!!

WELL, Well Well...

I cannot count on a hundred hands the number of times I've written on this blog that life always comes down to Costanza, and now I see Buzzfeed sucking on my wake with 35 Ways You're a Young George Costanza. You're welcome, Earth.

32. Basically, your life is a bunch of lies.

The Gospel According to Costanza

I've written on these pages a million (well, or 29) times that life always comes down to Costanza, so here's George Costanza's Lines That Can Help You Justify Your Terrible Behavior. Sigh. God Bless George Costanza!

Camon. Enough.

The absurdity of everybody sitting around feeling sorry for Jenifer Aniston because only 99.9999999% of men on Earth would drag their dicks through a mile of broken glass to sniff her bicycle seat is absurd. It reminds me of something I once wrote HERE:

10) “She’s not pretty in person!”
I’ve picked up that girls LOVE to see a famous actress/model and claim that in real life she’s ugly. Just today I heard two women talk about Christy Turlington; one had seen her and was VERY excited to report that in real life she is, in fact, “ugly.” Hmm. Doubt it. I’m sure there’s such a thing as being photogenic, but while the camera may add “10 pounds” I doubt it adds “hot.” Yes, I’m sure she looks her best when professionally dolled up; I doubt she looks like a dog in real life, I doubt some photographer or agent thought “I can take this disgusting, mauled-faced turd and turn her into Ashlee Simpson.” Whoops – I meant “turn her into a star.” My bad. Relax girls, we’re not gonna ditch you for Christy Turlington. Unless of course the situation comes anywhere near presenting itself, a la George Costanza and Marisa Tomeii, but what are the odds of that? I guess the male equivalent would be to see Derek Jeter at a batting cage somewhere and telling all your boys that in “real life” Jeter can’t hit for shit and looks bad doing it while we all clap with glee “I knew it!!”

Sidekix

They screw the pooch by only having him at #3, but THIS LIST OF GREAT TV SIDEKICKS gets it right re: what made Seinfeld:

What made Seinfeld such a phenomenon? For as much attention as it received, it wasn’t Kramer’s insanity. Nor was it Elaine’s bitchy shallowness. It sure as hell wasn’t Jerry’s, uh, whatever the hell it was that Jerry did. No, it was George Costanza and his life. That was what was at the heart of the Seinfeld experience. Hell, it was such an integral part of the show’s success that it basically spawned a whole different show specifically about the George Costanza character, only this one was called Curb Your Enthusiasm and was about the real life George, Larry David. 

Leon from Curb coulda been on this list if they hadn't tragically underused him.  I'd also put Jackie from Roseanne and Carlton from The Fresh Prince on this list.  And hold up...no Ed Norton???!?!? Really?

Quote du Jour

"The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A death. What’s that, a bonus?!?! I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you go live in an old age home. You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, then, when you start work, you get a gold watch on your first day. You work forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You drink alcohol, you party, and you get ready for high school. You go to primary school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities. You become a little baby, you go back, spend your last 9 months floating with luxuries like central heating, spa, room service on tap, then you finish off as an orgasm! Amen.”

- George Costanza

It's Too Fucking Hot to Be Nice or Funny.

There are a few things that I'm sick and tired of hearing. Some are serious (war stuff), some are not so serious (everything else), but either way people saying the following things have really started to drive me bananas.

1)“I'm against the war, but support the troops”
Yes, I know, I’m a horrible monster – our patented response, no matter how vile we think this war is and how we’re against it we have to shrug our shoulders and say well, I guess we have to support the troops. This statement has started to chafe me as I realize hey, you know what? I DON'T support the troops. How can I be so against a war, against every layer of fabric that we purport to be fighting about/for, so convinced we've been lied to, yet be okay with spending $315 BILLION for this cause? This is called BEING A FUCKING PUSSY. The only money I want to send over there now is a one-way plane ticket back home for all the troops and lifetime gift certificates for the Budweiser and/or therapy they're gonna need when they get back and start living with how fucked up a situation they were put in, and that's if they're lucky enough to come back with all their limbs intact. They’ve gotten completely screwed in the name of greed and “Jesus”, and our pumping away more and more money is only doing them a disservice, giving our fake approval when we really just wish they’d come home and we spend $315 million on things like health insurance, education and things that really affect our everyday lives. I don’t give a damn about “Democracy in Iraq” if I can’t afford medicine for my sick kid who is 9 years old and can’t read. I am not assuaged by the fact that said money will be going to Haliburton, either. I’m weird that way I guess. Bring them all home - maybe one of them happens to be the guy that can explain K-Fed to me.

2) “Well, we have to stay in Iraq now”
Here’s one from people that don’t even try to fool you into thinking the war is going well or that we were right to go in there, but their weak-ass bit is “Well, we’re in there now, I reckon we have to stay the course” etc. Which of course is dumbass-ese for “well, now that we’ve taken thousands of Americans and placed them in the middle of a boiling cauldron that we don’t even begin to understand, complete with unusable equipment, sycophant “generals” and a coupla civil wars going on, I guess we have to leave em in there.” Ummm…no, you don’t. I missed the day in Sunday School where they said “2 wrongs make a right.” I’ve never started choking on a Chicken McNugget and thought “well, I guess I should shovel a few more into my gullet now that panic has set in and I can’t breathe.” Nobody gets in a car crash and figures well, I reckon I might as well plow though a few more cars since I’m already in this mess. No, you stop the bleeding, you get out. I’m sorry for all the people whose lives we’ve ruined in the Middle East, but our first priority should be the men and women that we sent over there based on…well, a bunch of fucking lies, so I don’t have to think of real words. Next time some dumbass uses this line, say “Really? Til when? EVERYbody’s dead?” And yes, I have done the thing with the McNuggets, get off my ass people. On a side note, I’ve come up with a new sauce for McNuggets for dipping – a combination of mayo and the skin from other McNuggets blended together. Smooth, chunky, and guaranteed to keep the girls away from you for a looooooooooong time.

3) “The Democrats don’t have a better alternative”
Here’s another classic. In response to the ATROCIOUS job that’s been done over the last 6 years, Conservative pundits love to say “hey, we haven’t heard of a better solution from the Democrats.” This might be true, but who knows when the same fuckheads have been running this circus for 6 years? This is like right before the 2004 election when these idiots were saying “well, I just don’t know if John Kerry is going to do better.” What the fuck??!?!!? What the fuck more would Dubya have had to had done (Editor: grammatically the previous 5 words are known as a “triple dangling gerundive participle to the 5th power) to make these idiots think “gee…maybe someone else could do better…”? Rape some Boy Scouts, burn down the Capitol? Give away the secret Coke formula? I saw it as a pure firing- no, I have no idea how Kerry would be, but Dubya had 4 years and basically we went from a country that was the just-outta-the-fryer Chicken Selects to a half-cooked McRib that someone left in the urinal like those piss-cake thingees. You had 4 years, you were terrible, goodbye. But no, Conservatives would shake their heads and try to scare people “Gee, do you really think Kerry will be better?” This is like wanting to fire someone for stealing from the office, but you think “well, I better keep him cause the next guy I hire, what if he steals from the office AND fucks my wife/husband/Flavor Flav?” For all we know John Kerry would’ve walked into the Oval Office, dropped a deuce on the Presidential Seal and appointed Tommy Lee “Secretary of Fuckstick.” We don’t know this, but we DID know we had a completely crooked, incompetent boob of a President and we still had people falling for this shit. “The Democrats don’t have a better alternative?” Isn’t it tough to imagine a worse one than what we have? Fucking Christ. OOooh –just thought of another McNugget choice: hollowed-out, intact skins from other McNuggets stuffed with little Big Mac chunks! Wow. My great-great-great-great grandson just had a heart attack. Ouch.

4) “It was worth it for an Iraqi democracy.”
This is fo the poor mothers and fathers that have to make sense of their son’s death. “Bobby wanted to be there, he would be proud he gave his life for democracy in Iraq.” Really? Listen – I don’t have a kid in the Middle East, I know that grief makes us say and believe things, and if a parent of a dead soldier read this and walked up and slapped me in the face, I’d understand. But do you think if the Army knocked on Bobby’s door in, say, Des Moines and said “Hey Bobby, how would you like to come halfway across the world to risk your life and limbs so that Iraq could become a ‘democracy’? It’ll be living hell, in the end we’ll probably accomplish nothing and about 40,000 of you will come back with no legs, but you could be part of shoving democracy down some country’s throat – grab your sneakers!” I’m thinking Bobby would say ahhhhmmm…no thanks. I promise you if given the choice of their son back and safe or an Iraqi democracy, Bobby’s parents would want him back, and it wouldn’t even be close. Though if they DID choose the other way, that would make for an awkward Thanksgiving whenever Bobby did get back. Given the choice of mission accomplished or going home, I promise you Bobby would be back in Des Moines planning his fantasy football picks and trying to beat the folks to the Victoria’s Secret catalog in the mailbox. I hope Toby Keith reads this so we can have his next hit “We STILL Ain’t Scared, and Xmastime’s a Pussy.” Any network that trots out these family members are purely exploiting their grief and need for their loved ones to have died for a reason; although I’m sure they mean it when they say it I don’t believe it and I’m tired of fucking hearing such absurd shit. These tv “pundits” should know better. And if someone’s taking up valuable tv time on things such as this I can’t help but wonder why am I listening to Mr. and Mrs. Doe from Des Moines when for all we know Paris and Nicole made up and I’m not getting the 411?

5) “She’s fighting cancer”
This is another thing people say to make themselves feel better. So & so is 94, has cancer, is immobile and in a hospital bed but we gotta say “Hey, she’s fighting it. She’s a fighter.” Is she? I dunno. You’re basically lying there – there’s nothing you can do with your hands, the medication’s not working; am I now to believe you’re using a Jedi mind trick to keep yourself alive? We always like to feel like someone hung there an extra day or two by sheer determination. Cause yeah, if there’s ever a period of my life I’d like to drag out a little longer it’s when I’m in bed shitting myself while my family hovers over top of me waiting for me to kick so they can all fight for my “Highlights” collection. I wanna be the other guy, so they say “Yeah, I dunno, I thought Xmastime woulda lasted a few more days, but he really seemed to give up and let himself die. Didn’t fight it at all. A quitter, some might say.”

6) “He/she’s going to a better place”
This one always cracks me up. The one thing we will never, ever know as humans is what it’s like after we die, but people sprain an ankle racing to be the first dipshit to say “Well, he’s in a better place.” I don’t know about that. First of all, right here we got blowjobs, cheeseburgers and baseball. We can go to the beach, tell Yo Mama jokes, we can pay an “escort” to put on blackface and pretend she’s Nell Carter from “Gimme a Break.” Seems to me like that’s tough to beat. I don’t know what’s on the other side and I never will, but I’ll take my chances with a world that has potato chips and “Alf” dvds. Secondly, if death means going to a place that’s better than here, and you’re sure enough of it to say it out loud, why wouldn’t you kill yourself?

7) “I wanna live close to my family”
I’m sick of hearing athletes say this shit to justify taking oodles more $$$ to play for a crappy team instead of joining one that has a chance to win a ring sometime this century. Umm, asshole….you make $10 million a year, can’t you make your family go where you want them to? Oh, right, I forgot, your wife is the assistant night manager for Wal-Mart, so you have to…stay in Florida and play for the Marlins. Gee, if only she could give up that primo job she has – I guess your salary only pays for the houses, boats, cars, children’s education as well as setting up your descendents for generations and SOMEone has to pay for Little Debbie snacks and thumbtacks. My mistake!

8) “His stuff is filthy/nasty”
I’ve noticed announcers during baseball games are trying to outdo each other with describing someone’s pitches. It used to be “Wow, Jim has a great curveball” or “Wow, Jim’s fastball is humming tonight.” Now the cool thing to say is “Ewwwww, Jim’s slider is NASTY!”, although this has recently been surpassed with “Ewwwww, Jim’s slider is FILTHY!!!” Filthy? Nasty? Seems a bit much. It’s just a ball being hurled from one dude to another, can we lay off the over-the-top nonsense? It’s only a matter of time before we’re hearing “Jesus, Jim’s curve is green diarrhea tonite!” or “Jim’s slider is a monkey-based strain of AIDS tonite!” Relax fellas, it’s only baseball.

9) “If you saw me at home, you’d see how normal I am!”
If I had a nickel for every time I’ve read/seen some dipshit model or actress saying this I’d have about $14. Hot chicks love to ASTOUND us that gee, at home she just wears jeans and a t-shirt!! Wow!!! Just like a normal person! Unbelievable!! Cause I guess we would normally picture you lolling about at home in a birdbath filled with the blood of the cast of “Gone with the Wind”, wearing dresses made of solid gold and steak from Peter Lugers. Give me a fucking break. I would normally picture you at home in some sort of casual attire, it’s not a big deal. Unless of course you’re Carnie Wilson, in which case I picture you face down in a bath tub filled with gravy while hooked up to your home liposuction kit.

10) “She’s not pretty in person!”
I’ve picked up that girls LOVE to see a famous actress/model and claim that in real life she’s ugly. Just today I heard two women talk about Christy Turlington; one had seen her and was VERY excited to report that in real life she is, in fact, “ugly.” Hmm. Doubt it. I’m sure there’s such a thing as being photogenic, but while the camera may add “10 pounds” I doubt it adds “hot.” Yes, I’m sure she looks her best when professionally dolled up; I doubt she looks like a dog in real life, I doubt some photographer or agent thought “I can take this disgusting, mauled-faced turd and turn her into Ashlee Simpson.” Whoops – I meant “turn her into a star.” My bad. Relax girls, we’re not gonna ditch you for Christy Turlington. Unless of course the situation comes anywhere near presenting itself, a la George Costanza and Marisa Tomeii, but what are the odds of that? I guess the male equivalent would be to see Derek Jeter at a batting cage somewhere and telling all your boys that in “real life” Jeter can’t hit for shit and looks bad doing it while we all clap with glee “I knew it!!”

11) “Hollywood is run by a bunch of Liberals!!”
Boo hoo hoo. You hear the fucking Right whining about this. Hey Assface, look at what town you’ve run for years….WASHINGTON DC. You’re in the White House, you control Congress and you’ve had what, 15 Supreme Court Justices appointed in the last year. So calm the fuck down; unless they drop “Howard the Duck II” on us I’m sure you can cause waaaaay more damage than anyone in Hollywood. Well, until this guy get’s his license back anyways.

Okay. All the talk about McNuggets has cheered me up a little bit. And sitting here yammering means I'm missing the 659 channels that have Poker on right now.

My Top 10 Favorite BBC Sitcom Characters

With a few exceptions, this list was agonizing to pare down. The runner-ups are in the dozens. More from Only Fools and Horses could’ve made it but I made the decision to just include Del Boy. I feel bad there’s not more women on the list but again, there are plenty in #s 11-199. I genuinely love each of these characters, each of which gives me amazing entertainment any time I ask for it. Other than Del Boy being #1, this is in no order. Enjoy!

Del Boy Trotter (David Jason, Only Fools and Horses)

What can I say that I haven’t already on these pages? He’s simply the greatest sitcom character of all time. He’s funny of course, but he’s different than a lot of other sitcom characters in that he actually TRIES to be funny with his friends. He doesn’t just effortlessly toss out remarkable witticisms every 30 seconds without acknowledging he’s joking. And of course the best of Del Boy came shining through when the episodes were extended from 30 minutes to 50, as we got to see more inside his heart with the incredible David Jason’s acting chops nailing it every time.

When you meet Del, you assume he’s a typical oily douchebag salesman. And while it’s true he could "talk his way out of a room without doors”, over time you see WHY he’s somewhat like that. With his mother dying and father leaving him when he was 16, it’s was up to him to raise not only 3 year-old Rodney, but the lovable but useless Grandad. We start seeing over and over again that the one thing that means more to him than anything is his family - he never got married because girls didn’t want to help raise Rodney, so he stuck with Rodney. Opportunities came up - like moving to Australia for a big-time job - but Rodney couldn't come with him so he turned the job down. He was always loyal to his friends and if you were in a fox-hole, you’d want him with you. As someone once said, “Del Boy could fall into a viper pit and come out wearing snakeskin boots."

This exchange perfectly encapsulates his always feeling the need to take care of his elders (probably due to how much he absolutely reveres his dead mother) and yet can compartmentalize making money:

Del: I'm not a ruthless mercenary. Who is it that goes around the estate every Christmas time, making sure all the old people have got enough to eat and drink?

Rodney: Yeah, and who was it, during the Brixton riot, that drove down in the van, selling paving stones to the rioters? I mean, what did you think they were going to do with them, eh? All run off home and start building patios?

Del: Mine is not to reason why, mine is to sell and buy. 

This scene is just simply fa really funny scene I've always loved; to see the breadth of Del Boy see the last video in this post from last week. Mange tout!


Smithy - (James Corden, Gavin and Stacey)

Talk about a character who has become a beloved national treasure. Since this was written by Corden and is pretty much the exact same character he plays in the wonderful The Wrong Man(s) which he also wrote, I think it’s safe to say this is pretty much Corden being Corden…which is, in a word, delightful. Just like in The Wrong Man(s) his character is the Costanza to his partner’s Jerry, always living at a high pitch while the other is even-keeled. His reactions to Gavin moving on in life - getting married, moving to Barry, etc - are half immature, half spurned wife. He can be selfish and boarish but then he lays out his food policies - like not sharing food family style - and I revel in the fact that it’s just like me. There’s also something so warm about Gavin’s family basically being his own, and the effect he’s had on them re: his many goofy sayings (“Don’t mind if I do? Then don’t mind if I don’t!") is telling of how much charisma and warmth he really has. Brits will be looking for Smithy every year on Red Nose Day, and with each year I bet they love him even more. I know I do.

Oh yeah, and after promising to deliver a best man’s speech so funny that upon practicing it on Gary and Simon they “rinsed themselves”, he gave the greatest best man speech ever.

Audrey fforbes-Hamilton (Penelope Keith, To the Manor Born)

Her role as Margo Ledbetter in The Good Life could’ve easily gone in here since they’re basically the same character, but I chose this one because it’s the lead. It takes an amazing actress to pull off a character we’d normally be set up to not like, the sort of English upper-crust who believes people around her exist merely to maintain her own social status. There is a thrill in her initial “downfall”, but we quickly root for her because even though she’s a snob, she’s so damn likable. Partly because she’s of the (maybe?) last generation of “noblesse oblige”; she’s lost almost everything but the idea of letting her butler Brabinger loose out into the cruel world is unthinkable to her. Her role is to desperately fight maintain the status quo of her once and future estate. How good of a character is this? Incredibly, her natural sense of entitlement is somehow endearing. Now THAT is tough to pull off (at least to an American, I suppose.)

Jay Cartwright (James Buckley, The Inbetweeners)

Never before has one character been tasked with delivering so much bullshit and then delivering it in spades. As he’s constantly bullshitting about being “up to my nuts in guts!” he knows he’s bullshitting, his friends know he’s bullshitting, and he knows his friends know he’s bullshitting, and yet he simply cannot stop! It’s small wonder the producers of Rock & Chips thought of him when they were looking for a 16 year-old Del Boy. Ironically, the show’s only “earnest” moments - and they are flickering - are when Jay’s dad shows up and absolutely pummels him with insults about his manhood and being useless. You get a peek at maybe why Jay’s so desperate to be seen as more than he really is by his friends, after being told daily by his dad he’s even less than he really is. And the series’ best scene ever flawlessly combines Jay’s first heartbreak with his incredible ability to bullshit about his non-existent sex life.

Alan Partridge (Steve Coogan, The Alan Partridge Show)

There’s a million iterations of this character, so I’m sticking to the 1997/2002 series show. Watching Alan Partridge for too long can make you start to wonder, “gee, if I’m just a complete asshole to everybody maybe I can become quasi-famous and comfortable financially?” I’m not sure there’s ever a single thing he does for anyone else except of course for visiting the home of that psycho stalker fan. His personality is such that he seemingly always get out of getting his ass kicked because even as you’re hearing it, you’re thinking there’s no way someone just said that.

Which, of course, makes him intoxicating to watch.

(Note: the two men at the table are the creators of the classic Father Ted; on the right is Graham Linehan who would also write the great Black Books, The IT Crowd, Count Arthur Strong and more.)

Geraldine Granger (Dawn French, The Vicar of Dibley)

It’s hard to say if playing this part only 2 years after the Church of England legalized (maybe not the right word) women vicars was really edgy, since when it’s delivered it’s wrapped in the typical Richard Curtis warm, cozy embrace. Her character is equal parts empathetic, bombastic, spiritual and lustful, which certainly makes her more interesting than any member of the clergy I’ve ever met. Her handling of David Horton's disdain and her patience with Alice Tinker (both fantastic characters themselves) at every turn is a remarkable juggling act, to say nothing of doing it under the scrutiny of a “man’s job” while in such a backwards (or is it?) village. And she somehow pulls off the remarkable feat of being both timeless and current.

Norman Fletcher (Ronnie Barker, Porridge)

Ronnie Barker is a King of British Comedy over so many roles, but there’s no denying he was born to play the weary, savvy prisoner that is Fletcher. His seemingly having his finger on the pulse of everything and everybody inside is a marvel to watch, and him becoming a father figure to prison cellmate Godbar made for some of the best scenes on tv. And while his cynicism about the world would often feel dark, along with a sadness about having wasted his life, his credo about creating “little victories” to get through each and every day is nothing but inspiring.

David Jason played Blanco alongside Barker in Porridge (as well playing Granville to Barker’s Arkwright in the classic Open All Hours), and in Porridge’s sequel Going Straight it’s revealed his son is played by Nicholas Lyndhurst, the future Rodney Trotter. In my eyes, the very fabric of British sitcom is woven throughout the character of Fletcher.

This is one of my favorite bits, from the very first episode.

Jim Royle (Ricky Tomlinson, The Royle Family)

It’s hard to beat the Wikipedia description of Jim Royle:

Misanthropic, cynical and negligent, Jim is a slob who spends his days sitting in his armchair watching television doing as little as possible and enjoys announcing his visits to the lavatory. Jim is an ill-tempered miser and regularly roasts his family, in particular Antony and his mother-in-law Norma, when not slamming celebrities on television. Jim's outbursts are often accompanied by his mocking catchphrase, "my arse!" On occasions he shows a more patient side, especially when his family is in serious trouble. 

It’s hard to imagine Jim Royle getting a woman to marry him in any generation after his own; no woman today would serve him like a pack mule for over 50 years as Barbara does. And he’s such an enigma - does he work? Has he EVER worked? How does he get the cash to even go to his beloved pub, The Feathers? Either way, he’s beyond entertaining, and while I’m pretty sure any family member who is about to introduce a friend or more to Jim Royle for the first time goes thru an extensive warning about being in the same room as Jim,  he’s definitely the dream dinner guest for any 12 year-old boy what with the farting and cussing and making fun of anyone he can think of.

Here's a typical scene from the show, of which is 99% family sitting on the couch watching tv.

Uncle Bryn (Rob Brydon, Gavin and Stacey)

This makes Gavin and Stacey the only show here with 2 characters (and Pam Shipman almost made it 3), but I’ve always had a feeling the writers didn’t know what they had on their hands when they first began writing Bryn. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen such a compelling character for being so earnest, so naive, so well-intentioned, so childlike - if you don’t root for Uncle Bryn immediately, I probably will be suspicious of you. And it’s all those qualities that made his most amazing moments - snapping the families into place when they got into a fight about where the wedding would be held, reading his brother’s posthumous note to Stacey on her wedding day and, most of all, his song at Baby Neil’s christianing. Here you have a guy who's obviously been kicked around his whole life, never had any friends, and you realize he's singing about himself, his own having to be strong every day just to get through. You think he's gonna get made fun of, but it's just overpowering. Once this hit me, I've never been able to watch without some waterworks. I love Uncle Bryn.

Wolfie Smith (Richard Lindsay, Citizen Smith)

Just as his very name suggests, he’s a lovable scamp that considers himself a revolutionary Marxist who really has nothing tangible to say about anything and couldn't actually tell you what he’s fighting for. But watching him do it, while dragging his daft but earnest friends along is a joy to watch, as well is his Fonzarelli-style living quarters above his girlfriends parent’s apartment. Sitcom 101 dictates the father is woefully disapproving of Wolifie’s “socialist” lifestyle, and of course the mother dotes on him while calling him “Foxy.” It’s no wonder John Sullivan’s first sitcom would lead the way for Only Fools and Horses; Wolfie is like a much younger Del Boy who peddles bullshit politics instead of cheap, crappy merchandise. Freedom for Tooting!

(Unfortunately there’s not a lot of clips on YouTube so here’s the entire pilot.)

Life as Costanza

I just saw this little factoid

and because I'm a terrible human being I couldn't help but think, "116K? Out of 4.7M?....that's it?"

Which of course took me right to...Costanza!

"But Xmastime", you say in the voice of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward from those soap commercials (RIP), “isn't this the second time you've referenced that very episode of Seinfeld in the last coupla weeks??"

Sigh. Yes I did, faithful readers. Yes I did

 

Oh Oh

I've mentioned on this blog a million times that as I get older, life seems to always comes down to being George Costanza. And this guy at Grantland agrees:

Now that I am myself a nominal adult, I think of George as more of a documentary.  - XMASTIME

Here's 27 signs you're the George Costanza of your group.

I'm pretty sure it's me.

Costanza

I've mentioned on this blog a million times that as I get older, life seems to always comes down to being George Costanza. And this guy at Grantland agrees:

Now that I am myself a nominal adult, I think of George as more of a documentary.

Life. It Really Does All Come Down to Costanza.

Even, it turns out, in Victorian England, as per Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South:

"Oh Mr. Thornton, I am not good enough!"

"Not good enough!  Don't mock my own deep feeling of unworthiness."

JERRY:You have no idea what an idiot it. Elaine just gave me a chance to get out and I didn't take it. (Points to himself) This is an idiot.

GEORGE: Is that right? (Showing him up) I just threw away a lifetime of guilt-free sex and floor seats for ever sporting event in Madison Square Garden. So please a little respect. For I am Costanza. Lord of the Idiots!

Life: As Usual, It All Comes Down to Costanza

[Oven pings]
Vivian: You...very knowledgeable.
George: Well, I'm also an architect. Is that pastrami?
Vivian: Yes it is. I find the pastrami to be the most sensual of all the salted cured meats. Hungry?
George: Very.
[They kiss and fall down to the floor.]
Vivian: Oh, wait...[Vivian turns the TV on.] Oohh...
George: Vivian!!

Beer nerd Brothatime!! passes along this - a beer named after George!  :)

The Costanza

OG: 1.058   Color: 8   IBU: 28   Alc by Vol: 6.2%

This amber colored ale is brewed with a significant portion of rye malt and spiced with caraway seeds. A bready malt center with a dry spicy finish. Pairs nicely with the most “sensual of the salt cured meats  - pastrami”

Celebs du Jour

Here's 25 Celebrities and their favorite Beatles songs. No I Want to Hold Your Hand, no A Day in the Life...only two of their choices match my own Top 10. I'm not saying this means they're idiots, I'm saying it means they're fucking retards who wouldn't know a great song if it walked up and bit them on the ass.

Brad Pitt: Come Together and While My Guitar Gently Weeps. Since we pretty boys hafta stick together I've always liked Brad Pitt, even though Moneyball was grossly overrated, but he gets dinged here. First of all for not having the sack to make a final decision on a song, and secondly for one of them to be Come Together, the shittiest, most overrated Beatles song that is for some reason  considered a "classic."

Joe Perry: Tomorrow Never Knows. A stunningly innovative, culture-changing song of which my love for it now needs to be questioned since it's championed by this fucking jerkoff.

Taylor Swift. Here Comes the Sun. Great song, almost single-handedly saves Abbey Road, and she's spot-on re: how uplifting it is, especially coming out of the middle 8. Great. I now share an opinion on Beatles songs with a 12 year-old girl and a guy who's so stupid he hasn't minded being in Aerosmith for like 60 years. Fuuuuuuuuuck.

James Taylor. Penny Lane. A great song, and shoulda been on Pepper along with Strawberry Fields, which woulda made it the greatest album of all time without any debate. I give James Talor credit for getting up in Carly Simon's horse-teef guts ("and on the 8th day, God made a woman who could eat corn on the cob through a chain-link fence solely for Xmastime..."), but I dismiss his music, which my then 95 year-old grandmother once referred to as "pussy cracker shit." Ironically, we have The Beatles to blame for unleashing this particular monster of sleep-rock on us. Thanks, guys!

Julie Taymor: Something. Like Here Comes the Sun, a great song from The Dark Horse that along with the Golden Slumbers melody are the only things worth a crap on Abbey Road. Also, I have no idea who Julie Taymor is despite the fact that this is a list of celebrities and I work for a celebrity magazine.

Keith Urban: She's Leaving Home. Sgt. Pepper superslice, I've mentioned it HERE. Although I shudder to think how shitty his "music" must be, I have no beef with Keith Urban; having to fuck Nicole Kidman is punishment enough.

Joe Walsh. No song listed. Perfectly fitting for a member of the Eagles, maybe the most blah, nothing band ever. One time Op mentioned to me that Tequila Sunrise is a better song than Paradise by the Dashboard Light.  Of course I rolled my eyes at the very notion of such a thing, to which he insisted "No, I mean it, th-" which I cut off with a "BUP-bup-bup bup!", waving an index finger in his face like a metronome needle.  He kept talking: "I'm telling-" "AAAAAAH, bup-bup-bup-bup...(now slowing down, along with my finger so as to wind his idiocy down, along with lowering my eyebrows which had started at the top of my head and were now nearing their normal position)...bup......bup.................bup...............................................bup."  And with that Op knew to shut up, that he's an idiot and I was right, so he curled up with a sleeve of Snackwells and cried like a baby.

Evan Rachel Wood: Happiness is a Warm Gun. Kind of an inside baseball pick, which she further exacerbates by name-dropping Fool on the Hill and Blue Jay Way. Hey Rachel, we get it, you know The Beatles deep cuts...which on planet Earth at least, don't really exist:

Jimmy Fallon: what's your favorite obscure Beatles song?
Ringo Starr: (incredulous) obscure Beatles song?

Kris Allen: While My Guitar Gently Weeps. Xmastime superslice, made my White Album as a single album list, along with Happiness is a Warm Gun. I have no idea who Kris Allen is, but I admire his deep, thoughtful critique of the song: "There's just something about it." Thank you, Kris. The world needs more rich, famous, young people without a single thought in their heads.

Tom Araya: Revolution. Looking at his photo, I'm guessing by the long hair, grayed goatee, tattoos, and black t-shirt with a skull on it that Mr. Araya is in a heavy metal band. Reading what he says about the song I'm guessing that band is Slayer, since he says "It's so Slayer!" Congratulations Slayer, it only took you 31 years to be compared to The Beatles. That you had to be the one to finally do it only makes you a member of rock and roll's proud, noble "do it yourself" work ethic.

Kenneth Brannagh: For No One. An Xmastime superslice. McCartney sat down at a piano and played it in Give My Regards to Broad Street, which was basically two hours of Macca standing around looking surprised. Which, actually, is just how he looks all the time. How much does it suck if you're a magician and Paul McCartney's your audience?

Michael Caine: Hey Jude. I've blathered on many, many times how great Hey Jude is. McCartney famously wrote the song to comfort Julian Lennon during his parents' divorce, originally singing "Hey Jules." According to it's Wiki page:

Ringo Starr almost missed his drum cue. He left for a toilet break—unnoticed by the other Beatles—and the band started recording. In 1994, McCartney said, "Ringo walked out to go to the toilet and I hadn't noticed. The toilet was only a few yards from his drum booth, but he'd gone past my back and I still thought he was in his drum booth. I started what was the actual take, and 'Hey Jude' goes on for hours before the drums come in and while I was doing it I suddenly felt Ringo tiptoeing past my back rather quickly, trying to get to his drums. And just as he got to his drums, boom boom boom, his timing was absolutely impeccable."

So the next time you hear a song written by Paul McCartney about a 5 year-old boy, know that it began with Ringo Starr's dick in his hand. Hmm.

Jude Law: Across the Universe. Another Xmastime superslice. Of the obvious pick Hey Jude, Law says how lucky he is that the song that shares his name is a great song and not a sucky one. As someone who shares his own name with the hit It's Xmastime, Now Gimme Dat Ass!!, I concur.

Jonathon Demme: In My Life. One of my many, MANY funeral slices.

Jamie Foxx: Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band. Rocking superslice. How great was Foxx' riff on In Living Color as the old man named Cornbread with Duke, the dead dog? I went through a spell about 10 years ago during which I tried to get the nickname "Cornbread" tagged on me, but it didn't stick. I'm not saying I hate "Clownshoe Dick", but I really liked "Cornbread." Although how's this for irony: I don't even LIKE cornbread!! I prefer spoonbread! Me, huh? An enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in juuuuuuuuuuuust tight enough for her pleasure Toughskins. Sigh.

Peter Frampton: Norwegian Wood. Meh. Good song. Rubber Soul, while still an A-, is my second least-favorite Beatles album, which is something Beatles fans have a problem with. Maybe if they knew that I also kick puppies (well, the colored ones) they'd get a little sense of perspective and would stop whining about the whole "oooh no, Xmastime doesn't love Rubber Soul as much as we do!!" thing. Grow up, people.

Ryan Gosling: Here, There, and Everywhere. Meh. Never loved this one. Seems to be merely an "ohmygod, look how astoundingly melodic Paul McCartney is!" thing. Though I do give Rosling props for taking on the role of slow, white cornerback in Remember the Titans only 17 years after Tom Cruise had cemented himself as the Marlon Brando of the character in All the Right Moves. Gutsy.

Mark Hoppus: She's Leaving Home. Interesting this one has popped up twice on the list. Not as interesting as the fact that we can figure out how to have seedless fruit and yet we're stumped on how to stop Kim Kardashian from being on tv 24/7, but still interesting.

Norah Jones: Long, Long, Long. Lotta George songs on this list; a bit like a bunch of dudes picking Khloe Kardashian over Kim &; Kourtney. Oooh, a Kardashian joke! How do I do it?!?!? But seriously, she's hideous; I'd rather fuck George Harrison. And hell, he's been dead for over ten years.

B.B. King: Help! That's a superslice. When I was living in Oxford we went to BB King's restaurant in Memphis, and when I looked at the menu I saw a section titled "Samitches." While I'm sure I'd used that for "sandwiches" in conversation before, I'd never actually seen it in print and got a tremendous kick out of it, repeatedly laughing about it as the pitchers of what I'm sure was crappy Michalob Lite kept coming and coming. Finally the band goes onstage, and the front man shouts out "What d'yall want?" The response was supposed to be "the blues!", but before everyone could shout that I yelled "samitches!", which cracked up the old, fat black ladies a few tables away. "Get that white boy over here!" they yelled, and I spent the next two hours eating and drinking all I could for free, with everything I said totally cracking them up. It was awesome.

John Legend: I Want You (She's So Heavy.) This might be my least favorite Beatle song of all time, so it's official: John Legend is a fucking idiot.

Demi Lovato: Yesterday. I feel bad for Yesterday because it's a great song, but nobody can stand hearing it anymore since it's been played to death by the time you're like three years old. That's right - I don't feel bad for orphans, or kids with cancer,I feel sorry for an astoundingly popular song that was written almost 50 years ago. Also, it  rather ironically offers one of rock's greatest "fuck you" moments, via:

Iris Caldwell remembered an interesting incident in connection with the song. She had broken up with Paul in March 1963 after a silly argument over her dogs and, when he later called up to speak to Iris, her mother told Paul that her daughter didn't want to speak to him because he had no feelings. Two and a half years later, on Sunday August 1, 1965, Paul was scheduled to sing 'Yesterday' on a live television programme, Blackpool Night Out. During that week, he phoned Mrs Caldwell and said: "You know that you said that I had no feelings? Watch the telly on Sunday and then tell me that I've got no feelings."

Zing! Fuck you, Iris! See that tv performance HERE. As for Ms. Lovato, what kind of parents name their kid after the coke-addicted suicidal slut from St. Elmo's Fire? Thanks mom! "Me too, mom!" her brother O.J. added.

Yo-Yo Ma: Michelle. I like that part of it's in French, which I can lord over you and feel good about myself because as you know I'm incredibly well-versed in the language, and that they say the word "tits" over and over; other than that, meh. And who named this fucker, George Costanza? (Any girl who gets that bit wins 7 minutes in heaven with me! Unless you're ugly, but that goes without saying.)

Emily Mortimer: In My Life and Here There, and Everywhere. MAKE A FUCKING DECISION!! Jesus. Also: who the fuck is this person?

Opportunity Knocks

GEORGE: . . . I thought the woman was kind of cute.

JERRY: Hold it. I really want to be clear about this. Are you talking about the woman in the meeting? Is that the woman you're talking about?

GEORGE: Yeah, I thought I might give her a call. I, I don't meet that many women. I meet like three women a year. I mean, we've been introduced. She knows my name.

While at home I over Christmas I was up late at night with my buddy Rylo, who was in the midst of quite a vomiting performance, him being hit with the same virus that had attacked each one of us throughout the week. As I watched him sprint to the bathroom to unleash hell every few minutes, I spied a big chocolate cake on the kitchen island. It being one in the morning and completely unhealthy in every way possible, I wrestled with having a slice, and I actually found myself arguing in the same way as George in the scene above:

Xmas: "I mean, it's a chocolate cake, just sitting there...how many times do I get an opportunity to just cut up a slab of great chocolate cake throughout the course of a year? Once, MAYBE twice if I'm lucky?...."

So of course I dug in and had a slice and was immediately reminded of the George moment. Sigh. Life. Really does come down to Costanza, don't it?

Life Always Comes Down to Costanza

The Beckham's had a kid and they named her Harper Seven, which as The Fashion Herald reminded me should piss George off even more that someone else has stolen his idea for a name.  Ha!

Or maybe they're To Kill a Mockingbird fans.

And yes, I've done it with Posh Spice.

Dearly Beloved.

"Beloved" is not a word I use a lot. Yet whenever I talk about the Yankees on this blog, I find myself saying "beloved." My beloved Yankees this, my beloved Yankees that, etc etc. Why do I do this, I wondered; it just automatically seems to happen. So I scanned my brain for a minute to see where this may have came from, and realized what it was.




Jesus. Is there ANY part of my life that can't be traced back to Costanza?

SIDE NOTE: did David Puddy ever say a single sentence that wasn't funny?