All I Want For Christmas Is… More Scrubs Soundtracks

Aaah, “Scrubs.”  You are the middle child between “E.R.” (the secondone with George Clooney, not the first… look it up) and the highly comedic, though at most times unintentional, “Grey’s Anatomy,” and you’re still the best at what you do.  (I picked Michael Crichton’s show as a reference point because it was an issue when “Scrubs” premiered.  People wondered why they would need two shows about interns.  Ask CBS what they think about crime scene investigators… and for that matter, what NBC thinks about blending cop procedural and court cases.)

Mixing pathos and humor so well for seven seasons, like a fine chef or bottle-flipping bartender (more Bryan Brown than Tom Cruise), you finally started getting some respect once you hit that magical 100th episode (that’s when shows can get syndicated).  NBC had been dicking you around for years, and when the seventh season was up for grabs, ABC – your owner – was ready to take over.  Having little else going on over at NBC, they used up the short season (due to the writer’s strike), and then hung you out to dry.  You’ll get to finish your magnificent run on ABC starting in January, but that’s not what this post is about.

scrubsIt’s all about the music, baby.  No other show utilizes the music to advance the story quite like “Scrubs.”  Check out the integration of Colin Hay’s Overkill (formerly of Men at Work).  What upsets me is that they’ve only released one CD for sale after the first season (after the fifth season they did a collection only available on iTunes… 14 songs to cover four seasons), but i want more.

greyscd“Grey’s Anatomy” gets three CD’s, but they push their music, not quite like “Smallville” did at the end of its early episodes, but there still is a hey, check out this quirky new artist quality about it.  Hence them releasing three CD’s.  “Scrubs” just lets it be, and maybe that’s why I prefer music from them.  It’s between the show and the audience – there is no marketing department forcing the producers’ hands.  So when season six ends on Say Anything’s Alive with the Glory of Love, I should just accept it as the way it is and be happy.

What?  There’s a torrent full of “Scrubs” music?  Never mind.

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In My Brain While Sleeping… Sacrilege X-Treme!

Yesterday, I had a snow day.  Yes, adults can have them to… when they’re lazy.

Michigan had a huge snow fall, so all I did was sit on my couch all day, laptop in, um, lap, reading and milling about.  I almost forget to eat about midday, and when I stood up from the couch, my legs weren’t ready to work and I’ll fell back again.  They were sleeping… I guess they were just being lazy and took a snow day too.

Anyhardsalamisandwich, I finally ate a hard salami sandwich and returned to the couch for the rest of the eve.  At a very late hour (10:30ish if I recall), I opted for some cake (see below).  Not too long after, I brushed my chompers and opted for bed.  (Did you know that I brush my teeth with a hair brush?  I goes much quicker.  Ha!  No, I don’t.  I fooled you.  But I do use a swatch of human hair.)

In my slumber, I had a mess of messed-up dreams.  Here’s the snippets I recall:

  • Vampires.  It was fucking scary as hell, and all I know is I was one too.  There were various forms and sizes that you could only see if you were a blood-sucker, and it answered my question of, “why would anyone say they wouldn’t want to be a vampire?”  I’ve been asking my friends this lately, and some say they want to die (to which I said a stake would work) and some said they didn’t want to outlive their loved ones (to which I brought up the benefit of turning your loved ones undead as well).  But srsly… this one was wicked.  It woke me up in the wee hours of the morning, like at 1am.
  • Dog Baptism.  I don’t remember much other than the brouhaha surrounding the church when this plan was going down.  It was a golden retriever (a Sandy shout-out), but I’ve never had one.  (We had two mini mutts, a mini schnauzer, a cairn terrier, and mini daschund – little dogs, little poop + no crotch shots).  I feel like the walls started crumbling down as beams of light shone through the stain-glass windows.  It could have been reporters for all I know.
  • Spaghetti Sauce Made With Ice Cream.  A friend was showing me how to replace butter and milk in a recipe for spaghetti sauce (as you can guess, I have no idea how anything is made).  He used a lot of French vanilla ice cream and threw black and bell corn pepper into a container of it, then he mixed it with an equal amount of tomato sauce.  It looked nasty, but I never got to taste it.  A few things to note here: I dream way too much about spaghetti.  Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy it, but it’s not like I’m obsessed with it.  And why is this sacrilegious?  It’s a waste of perfectlygood French vanilla ice cream… which I’m obsessed with.
  • Unnatural Childbirth.  In the future, a woman swallows a device called Point A.  Point B is then placed on a rolling poll, much like I.V. drips, and positioned accordingly between her legs.  Point C and D (which look like Point B) are placed to the left and right of her womb.  Point E is under her table, and Point F is on a movable arm above her belly, like a light at the dentist.  A doctor managing a computer checks the coordinates and engages the devices.  A portal appears beside him which contains the child.  He scoops the small one out, snips and ties the umbilical cord, and hands the baby to the nurse.  He disengages the portal and hands the newborn over to mother.  No cesarean section nor vaginal tearing.  It’s not really sacrilegious either, but do you think this kind of technology will get an easy pass from fundamentals?  Doubt it.

INGREDIENTS: Pepperidge Farm Fudge Stripe 3-Layer Cake that was best if used by December 10th, which was the third item I tried to eat in the last two days that was expired.  The others were a plastic box of lettuce and a bag of grilled chicken (I planned to make chicken and salad when I bought them two weeks ago).  Oddly, the lettuce smelled like ass although it didn’t look rotten (for being a week overdue), and although the bag o’ chicken expanded like it had botulism or something, it did not smell, so I ate it.  (In case you didn’t know, I you buy a bag of any food and it expands, that means bacteria is growing inside… it’s some report I saw… I think…) 

Back to the chicken for a second – since I wasn’t in doubt (although I was, but it was minor), I didn’t throw it out.  I put it in the mickyfor two minutes, and since I had no idea what to eat it with since I had no lettuce, I threw shredded mozzarella on it and Italian dressing anyway.

Now back to that cake – even though it doesn’t say so (check the pic below), I’m beginning to wonder if it was actually devil’s food cake.

Too rich for my boiling blood... in hell!

Too rich for my boiling blood... in hell!

Happy Find… Cheetah Lady

Tears of joys are still spilling from my eyes.  As soon as I finish watching this video, I can’t wait to watch it again.  IT’S THAT FUCKING GOOD.

I don’t know if Cheetah Lady is trying to be ironic, or if she took acting lessons from Christian Bale on how to talk like a humanimal, but I think my most favorite thing about this is how she goes off script (if there even is a script) and rolls with the punches.  She’s sick of being a wide animal, and she doesn’t want a phone, but she wants a phone.  If even a quarter of Saturday Night Live’s cast members could improv like CL, it’d be like the 90’s all over again at 30 Rockefeller.

(P.S. If you pay attention, I think you can see her panties through her costume’s opening… if you’re into that kind of thing.  I’m certainly not.)

(via Videogum… thank you oh so much for this… I mean it)

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