Sunday, February 25, 2007

Interview: Snap, Crackle and Pop

PV: Hey, guys. Thank you so much for taking the time to sit down with me. I've always thought y'all were SO underrated.

Crackle: I think I can speak for Snap and Pop when I say the feeling is mutual. We're big fans of yours as well, Phil, and we'd like to thank you for all those years of buying Rice Krispies cereal and also enjoying our patented Rice Krispies Treats.

PV: Uh, actually, Crackle, I don't know that I've had a bowl of regular Rice Krispies since about 1984. I go for Crispy Rice.

Pop: (Gulps). The generic brand?

PV: Yeah. No offense, it's just a little cheaper. And it tastes the same.

Snap: Your mom tastes the same. Oh snap!

PV: Come on, Snap. No need to bring my mother into this. You guys should be flattered by Malt-o-Meal. Imitation is the higher form of flattery, after all. Even on the bag of Crispy Rice it says "Compare to Rice Krispies," for those too stupid to tell on their own what cereal Crispy Rice is copying.

Crackle: You know what, I don't think we should do this. I can see you've only set this little interview up to attack us and our product. Come on, bitches! (Motions over to Snap and Pop.) We're outta here.

PV: Whoah, whoah, whoah! No need to get all crackly, Crackle! And did I just here you call Snap and Pop bitches? You guys gonna take it?

Snap: We kinda have to be. Crackle calls all the shots. My brother Pop and I were small-time before Crackle joined the group and his daddy, became our manager. We owe everything to those two.

Pop: Yeah, we would have ended up as Pop Rocks' mascot otherwise. But the Crackle family led us to fortune and fame! They even got us these cool hybrid pirate/chef's outfits!

PV: I see, sorta like the Dixie Chicks. You both have to put up with a fat, obnoxious diva who holds all the cards. And that's not your only parallel to the shunned country trio, I here. You three also came out against the war in Iraq?

Crackle: Yeah, during a press event in North Korea we were talking onstage and my political views slipped out. I told the crowd that the real axis of evil is Crispy Rice, Cinnamon Toast Crunch and the United States.

PV: Yeah, I think I remember reading about that. So that's why American TV no longer plays your commercials!

Crackle: It's all politics. I still don't regret saying what I did, however. In return for your support, Kim Jong Il threatened not to stop nuclear testing unless the U.N. airlifted 400 metric tons of our cereal into his country so he could exchange it on the black market for oil and weapons-grade uranium.

Snap: That gave us a nice bonus check. Thanks, Crackle!

Pop: Yeah, thanks Crackle! Still, I do miss the way it was before: Seeing our faces on billboards, walking the red carpet, signing autographs for kids on the street...

Crackle: Bitch! Shut your mouth. Speak when spoken to or you're out of the band.

Pop: I was only trying to...

Crackle: (Doing mock sign language, pretending Pop is deaf). I said shut your mouth! You understand, Corky?

PV: Come on, Crackle. No need to be insensitive here just because you have a difference of opinion with Pop. He's not deaf or afflicted with Down Syndrome.

Pop: I must be mentally disabled to have put up with this asshole's abuse
for seven decades. Come on, Snap. We're leaving.

Crackle: Oh, no you're not. Snap is staying with me.

Snap: I, uh, I don't know what to do. I like you both so much!

Pop: Maybe this will help you decide. (Plants huge kiss on Snap, bending him backward like the U.S. navy guy did to the nurse in the famous end of World War II picture).

Crackle: I always knew you two were gay.

Snap: Shut up, Crackle! There's nothing wrong with being gay!

Crackle: I know. I'm gay too. Can I rejoin the group if I promise to stop verbally abusing you both?

Snap and Pop: We can't stay mad at you, Crackle. OK. Group hug!

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Interview: 5-Week Old Rocky Villarreal

PV: Hello there, sir. I know you don't speak to the public often and I'd like to extend my gratitude for this opportunity.

RV: Glaglug!

PV: "Glaglug," eh? Interesting response. You're full of surprises, young man. Tell me, what have you learned in your five weeks of life?

RV: (Poops pants and cries until I change his diaper).

PV: I understand, sir. Now forgive me for being so bold, but I'm going to ask the question that's on the minds of all of your fans. Do you intend to wait the usual 19 to 21 years, or come out at the end of the season and declare yourself for the 2007 NBA draft?

RV: (Stares at light fixture in kitchen).

PV: I see. Still contemplating it. That's understandable. Moving on. Tell me, do you plan on continuing your wild bachelor lifestyle, or is there a lucky lady you'll settle down with soon?

RV: (Cries uncontrollably for 45 minutes).

PV: Forgive me, Rocky. I know I was getting too personal there. I'm ashamed of myself, really. I was wondering if you have any advice for other babies out there?

RV: Yes, actually. I'd recommend you sleep through the night and go easy on your parents. They really are looking out for your best interests, and aren't torturing you when they bathe you, wipe spit off your mouth and rock you to sleep. Try not to pee on them as they change your diapers. Kindly refrain from crying into their ears at 4 a.m. And smile a lot. They'll really appreciate it.

PV: Why, Rocky. I had no idea you were so eloquent! A point of contention, however: All of that advice you give is great and all, but you don't follow any of it in your own life! Please explain.

RV: Gladgrawg!*

*Gladgrawg is babyspeak for "That's because I said nothing of the sort, you delusional ape. You're delirious for having not slept more than three consecutive hours for the past 37 days. Now whip me up a bottle of breastmilk posthaste!"

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Interview: Cupid

PV: Hello, may I speak to Cupid please?

C: Mortal, 'tis I, Eros, God of Love.

PV: The P.R. chick must have given me the wrong number. Sorry to bother you, uh, Eros.

C: Foolish mortal! I, Eros, and Cupid are one and the same! The Romans called me one thing and the Greeks the other. You know how that goes.

PV: Right, sorta like with P. Diddy/Puffy/whatever he calls himself these days. So just to make dead certain I'm talking to the right dude, you're the little flying naked baby that flies around and shoots people with arrows that make them fall in love with each other?

C: Ha, mortal! Sure, but that's only part of what I do. Did you know I also have dominion over the dead in Hades, the creatures of the sea and the gods in Olympus?

PV: Sure, I read that on Wikipedia, but "dominion" really just means you fly around shooting arrows at them, doesn't it?

C: Touche, mortal. But that's not all I do. Once I made love to Psyche, and who jepoardized our relationship by mistaking me for a serpent beast who planned on devouring her.

PV: Oh yeah, how did that end up?

C: Ah, mortal, the usual. My mother, Venus, commanded her to separate grains from a bag of rice as punishment, then tried to trap her in the underworld for all eternity. In the end she got out and we made up.

PV: Wow. So you and your mom had a kind of creepy relationship. You didn't happen to shoot her with an arrow, did you?

C: What exactly, mortal, are you implying?

PV: Uh, nothing. Let's just move on. So how exactly does this love arrow system work?

C: It's magic, mortal.

PV: Well, yeah, but can't you be more specific? Is it a mind-altering poison, or something scientific like pheromones, or are you just a metaphor for the unquantifiable concept of romantic attraction, which we humans attribute to being as flighty and random?

C: Well, mortal, I can tell you this much: It ain't the third one.

PV: Geez, man. This isn't going anywhere. And stop calling me "mortal." I know you're an invincible god and I'm easily vanquished flesh and bones, but there's no need to rub it in every time.

C: Please accept my sincere apology. I'll try and be more direct.

PV: OK, I can't stay mad at you, Cupid. After all, you've got an impressive body of work. Those arrows of yours... damn powerful. Like, you once made not one but two women actually fall in love with Hitler!

C: I do alright.

PV: Don't be so modest. I could go on and on. You got Julia Roberts to marry Lyle Lovett! And you even found a wife for Screech!

C: Cain't no one do what I do.

PV: I'll say. Those had to have been some tough marks.

C: I'm not gonna lie, some of my matchups are so crazy that they took intensive attention. I'm talking, four, five arrows at a time just to ignite the flame of passion.

PV: Sometimes you're kind of a dick, though. Like in elementary school when you always had me obsess over the hottest, smartest girl in the class. And then you kept it up throughout junior high. And high school. And even college. Women I knew I'd never have any kind of shot with. It was constant torture. How could you be so cruel?

C: Hey, I had to keep your standards high. You can't tell me it didn't end well. Look over there at that knockout wife of yours and your kid! If I had let you ever settle for less they wouldn't be there right now.

PV: You know, Cupid, you're right. I understand, and now that I think about it, it was definitely all worth it for the end result. Thanks for that. I bet it was pretty tough to get Jessica to fall in love with me, right? She's so beautiful, so intelligent, so wonderful.

C: No exaggeration: It was like taking down a rhino with a beebee gun.

PV: Well, could you, like, hit her with another one, another dose just to make sure it doesn't wear off?

C: I don't work that way, pal. I set things up, but it's up to the humans to keep it going. You've got to provide your own arrows, son.

PV: Like by writing this fake interview! Do you think all this will maybe get me out of buying flowers?

C: Don't count on it.

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Overused sayings I Never Want to Hear Again

"True that."
No hip-hop expression, with the possible exceptions of "It's all about the Benjamins" and the "-izzle" suffix, has ever been more co-opted than this one. Please, please, stop.

"It is what it is."
For once I'd like someone to say "it isn't what it is."

"Good times."
This originated from the Alec Baldwin Schwetty Balls segment on Saturday Night Live a decade ago. You know what would really signify good times? If people stopped saying "good times."

"It happens."
Yeah, obviously it happens, otherwise it wouldn't have happened. Go kill yourself.

"from hell" and "on steroids"
"From hell" is an overused expression that fills me not only with anger, but anger on steroids. And not just any steroids, mind you - steroids from hell.

"It's not you, it's me."
Along with "I love you, but I'm not in love with you," this meaningless sentence is a weaker substitute for "I hate you. Don't ever talk to me again unless you'd like to find yourself on the business end of a restraining order."

"Listen, ..."
No one ever starts a sentence with "listen" unless they're either a guidance counselor or a character in a movie or TV show. Where do screenwriters and guidance counselors get this word? And why do people take career advice from guidance counselors? Do you think when they were 16 they wanted to grow up to be guidance counselors?

This word is a stand-in for telling people to go screw themselves. Even worse is the response, "Yeah, right whatever!"

"Show me the money."
How about I show you my bootprint on your face.