It's Oscars time. Somebody wake the Grouch.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

*Warning: Graphic Descriptions Follow

Heeeere's Stewy. That's right, I have defeated in mortal combat the cyber-punk Mr. West Lile and returned to my rightful place at the Dictionary. It was an epic struggle not unlike the "The Gamesters of Triskelion" episode of the original Star Trek, only we were forced to sit down and solve Sudoku puzzles while wearing those Jiffy-Pop bikinis. The first person to fall asleep won and that crap puts me to sleep faster than Extra-Strength Nyquil with double the codeine. Anyhow, I was the winner and I've been told that Spanish Lottery International will be depositing my winnings of $1,000,000 quatloos into my bank account as soon as I send them my account number.

I'm glad that I was able to return in time to warn our readers of something so terrible that it makes Mark Northover's disappearance pale in comparison. Yes, I'm talking about the return of Ted Danson to network television. Please refrain from the compulsion to run screaming from your computer, upsetting the cup of Sanka on the side table and causing a rather difficult to remove stain in your carpet. It is times like these that we need to be strong for each other and hold on to thoughts of goodness and beauty.

Many of us remember with fondness the days that Cheers ruled the Thursday night line-up of situation comedies. We remember it with fondness because it was an ensemble of quirky characters of which Ted (as the affable Sam Drucker...sorry Malone) was only a small and forgettable part. The success of Cheers convinced normally sensible movie producers to foist Danson on film going audiences in Three Men and a Baby. The fact that this was a remake of a French film should come as a surprise to no one, as the French hold up Jerry Lewis as a comedy icon. This film, the stomach upsetting sequel Three Men and a Little Lady, and the unreleased Three Men and a Drug Addled Skank form the trilogy known to fans as Three Dog Night.

Next up for Ted was the single season sitcom Ink, in which he starred with his wife Mary Steenburgen. (Yes, I had to do my research for this part as nobody in their right mind actually remembers the show or wishes to dredge up the foul memories it brings.) Yes, people could not get enough of Ted (extreme sarcasm) and not even Mary Steenburgen could save the show from the network waste basket. Many (mostly misinformed) people will laud Becker as Ted's magnum opus, and who am I to disagree with them. I'm Stew Miller, that's who. Nobody remembers Becker, at least not in a meaningful way. Did it have any redeeming value whatsoever? I would like to meet the person who could tell me what the plots of five episodes of Becker concerned.

Now, it is come again. Some sadomasichist at ABC has decided to unleash a new barrage of Ted into our homes in the form of the sitcom Help Me Help You. I am not sure of the premise but one thing I can gather from the previews is that Ted Danson is NOT aging gracefully. This fact and the propensity of middle-aged writers to try and frame him as a sex symbol are extremely disturbing to the ordinary citizen.

Ted, help us help you. Please consider retirement and maybe move into another line of work. You were a pretty good bartender some years ago.

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