Awkward Silences--Film at Eleven!

I take pleasure in the little things in life: midgets, ponies, my "innie" genitalia, and awkward moments in live television. The best of these comes when a newsperson is giving a "news brief" of what's going to be on the news coming up at whatever time and they finish early. I think the station allots a certain amount of time for these segments, like fifteen seconds, and when the bastards finish early, it's probably the happiest time of my day.

This is how one of those situations goes:
Newscaster: "...so, I'm afraid somebody's going to have to buy little Timmy a new bicycle, or else fish it out of Delta Burke's ass. We'll have the rest of the story at eleven."

Now, the magic.

The broadcaster--we'll call it a him so I don't have to be so pronounally ambiguous--looks into the camera with a forced smile that can pass as normal if it's onscreen for a half second. But, when that smile lingers on camera, that guy can pass for a whole bag of murderers all wrapped up in one. Then, when they know it's going too long, you can see their eyes start to dip, wanting so bad to look down at the paper in front of them to escape the torture of that red light staring back at them with nothing to say, but, they learned in Journalism school that, in order for America to trust you, you've always got to grab 'em by the balls and stare 'em in the eyes. Maybe that's Dog Obedience School. Whatever.

Today, though, today was the quintessential moment of my awkward-silences-in-news-broadcasts-watching existence. I had on Fox News right before the O'Reilly Factor started because there's nothing I like more than watching somebody on TV that I know, for a fact, I'm better than in every aspect, and some guy who does the quick news named Skip, Chip, or Blade or something was way too brief with his news brief and had time to kill. He made things more awkward by acknowledging the fact that he finished early and he didn't know what to do with the time. Then, in saying that, he had filled the time he was trying to escape, but then he ended with something that multipled that awkwardness tenfold. It was like walking in on your brother masturbating, then starting to masturbate yourself. He said, "Later." He didn't say, "I'll see you later" or "Catch you later." No. He ended a news broadcast like he just finished hearing from his frat brother that they had secured a keg for their Toga party this weekend and it was going to be "fucking sweet." Fuck that guy. No, wait. I think his name is Shepard Smith. Yep. That's him. Fuck him in his stupid fucking part in his hair.

There's another newscaster who bugs me, but he's just a local LA guy. He used to work for NBC a long time ago, but he's been with Fox for a long time now. Anyway, the guy's name is John Beard. The reason he irritates me is that, he's got the built-in name and yet, just to spite me, he never grows a goddamn beard! If my name was Kurt Muttonchops you better believe I'd sport those sons of bitches as soon as I could grow them. If I was born Hairlip O'Hunchback, I'd do my best to make these things come to fruition; I'd graft my lip to the tip of my nose and take a sledgehammer to the spine. I implore you, John Beard, for like a week, grow a beard to go with your mustache that taunts me.

That's all.

Later.

Interesting thought of the day:
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but don't go telling it that, it's already got a big enough head as it is.