CheekyMF! Review: @DaveKrumholtz on Raising Hope and incidentally, why I hate The A.V. Club.

I’ve recently started to listen to Sklarbro Country as a way to fill time that would have otherwise been occupied by ESPN, as, well, it’s still March, and you don’t have to look far to find what grinds my gears about that fact. Anywho, in one of the podcasts, Patton Oswalt started to discuss how being the first to hate something is cool these days, and well, all honesty, for a long time now I’ve thought that’s what The A.V. Club was all about.

The “first to shit on the prize wins” kind of concept, ya know, and they really didn’t do much to change my thinking with their review of David Krumholtz’s guest spot on “Raising Hope” this week.

For the first time, I think ever, I was actually in front of the TV, not called away at the last minute or stuck in traffic, but actually ready and waiting to watch this week’s episode of the newest addition to the Garcia-verse. In part because the stars were aligned “just so”, but also because of Krumholtz’s guest appearance on the show–

I should explain–I’ve been following him on Twitter for quite some time now, and his drunken revelry and tweet regret are the type of giggle-inducing entertainment that you really…just can’t buy.

That said, a man whose turn as the Doctor-murdering Paul Sobriki in “ER” secured the transition for him, in my mind, from child actor to “serious” actor, he became slightly hard to watch in serious roles. As much as there is the line between fantasy and fiction, I was at a point in my life where I was still able to receive tweets through my text inbox and still be able to use my phone for well, life. I would be struggling to find something to watch and end up settling on say, “Numb3rs”, and then, a few minutes into it, look down when my phone dinged and read something about farts. Or booze. Possibly farts and booze. It kinda killed the seriousness at hand of the show, no one’s fault but my own, but given the choice between getting a grip on my Twitter addiction enough to put it down to watch a TV show or stop trying to watch serious shit when Twitter fun is to be had? The latter wins out. Every time.

So, I was beyond amped when I read that Krumholtz would be doing a guest spot on “Raising Hope”. I’ve adored the show for a while now thanks to a random suggestion on Get Glue, and, well, comedies don’t require one to “Put Twitter Down”, so I busted my ass to make sure my day went smoothly enough to watch it on time. Not have to wait til fucking Wednesday to get my Chance on.

And so I watched. And it was glorious. The over acting of the blind character he portrayed was pretty damn funny. His super power like hearing even funnier.

It certainly wasn’t the subtle choice, but given this show’s unlikely premise of a one night stand with a serial killer producing an adorable, but possibly evil offspring that a lower class family has to then raise, a lower class family, that, it needs to be said, in this very episode, can’t even afford the Sunday paper, so the only solution is to script, and put on a performance, (Complete with costumes!!), of what the Sunday Funnies might have been–it’s quite frankly, the obvious choice.

This show isn’t about the subtlety. It’s just a funny show, and sometimes funny isn’t subtle.

Side note: I really think people that hate TV shouldn’t strive to make a career out of writing about TV. Now you’re just being a dick.


CheekyMF! So NOW you wanna call me fat?!

Once upon a time, I weighed 80 pounds more than I do now. This is not to say I am what you would call “thin” now, but more pudgy. Chubby if you will. I wear clothes that come largely from the juniors section and my size 11 skirts threaten to fall off of me when I raise my arms. Chubby. Not fat.

It would appear though that what is “in” right now is to call me fat. And more than just calling me fat, we’re talking full on tirades about well, it got very lewd and disgusting by a few, yep, more than one, perpetrators of douchebaggery on the Twitter. Separate incidents too. And both over me simply voicing my opinion and these asshats coming out of nowhere to attempt to rip me a new shiny asshole. What I find absolutely hilarious though is that when I was significantly heavier, no one ever called me fat. So how is it that now when the only real fat I have left to conquer is..well just an allover toning up…my tummy is flat but could be narrower, of course…and my legs…well I never really overcame being both a jock and a cheerleader in high school, I have cheerleader thighs, I do…but how now guys?

I know it’s a cheap insult from weak minds that lack anything else negative to say about my otherwise awesome self. And all truth be told, it didn’t sting quite so badly until it was reinforced (out of anger/spite), by a source much closer to me after the fact…I know I’m still a “big chick”…but fuck all, my clothes are all literally falling off of me…if I’ve not shed the title of “fat girl” yet…then when? If I have to keep this shit with me all the way to 105 I’m gonna be pissed!