Showing posts with label Tiffany Patterson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tiffany Patterson. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

I Love New York

We now join "I Love New York, Season 2," already in progress...


NEW YORK: I see y'all, looking fine up there... it just makes my decision even harder. You see I have a box of chains down here, but I only have enough for seven of you. That means I have to say goodbye to one of you tonight.


NEW YORK: I'm gonna just skip right ahead to the hard part, because I made a real connection today on our dates with all y'all. And at this late in the game, each cut is harder than the one before it.


NEW YORK: There was one thing that happened today, that made me think hard on one of you in particular. Real hard. I think you know who I'm already talking about. Can you come down here, CMF?


BILL SCURRY: Sure, Tiffany. Er, can you tell me again why my name is "CMF" again? I kind of forgot...

NEW YORK: That's what the fans on the website wanted to call you.

BILL SCURRY: Yeah, but what does it mean, I guess, is the more salient question?


MIDGET MAC: It means "Cracker Mother Fucker," son. What're you, dense? Midget Mac told you that like, six times.


NEW YORK: Now, CMF, you know that I have a soft spot for you, right? I really got the chance to bond with you on our date at the In 'n' Out Burger. But there were some things that did not add when I went back to my room afterwards.


BILL SCURRY: Oh, sweet Christ. Here it comes...

NEW YORK: Well, I was first put off by the way you kept stealing my fries. Then, you asked me -- four times, I think -- where my mother bought her weave from. Then, you kept asking me if I liked "pumpkin ravioli," for some damn reason. You... just... kept... asking... me. I don't know what happened to you when you were a kid, but apparently, this is a big issue for you.

BILL SCURRY: We can work past that, Tiffany New York. New Tiffany... Tiffanork. New Tiffany, I mean. We have respect and trust, right? A true relationship is based on trust and respect -- those're the building blocks, right there!


NEW YORK: Yeeeaaahhhh... but, if only that was the end of it. You started an entire conversation about "Star Trek"... actually, you talked for 40 minutes about the guy who played that Russian guy, and how his son in real life played Kirk Cameron's best friend on "Growing Pains." You didn't even notice when I went out for a cigarette break. Twice.


BILL SCURRY: I thought it would be interesting to talk about... a lot of people don't know much about the actors who played the bridge cast on original "Trek."


NEW YORK: Okay, but I don't give a shit. That's that part you don't get. Buuuuuut -- that wasn't the worst of it.

BILL SCURRY: You liked it when I paid for the meal, right?


NEW YORK: Listen to me. Are you looking at me? You talked about your FUCKING WIFE the ENTIRE RIDE HOME!

BILL SCURRY: I knew that was bad. Gaahhh... oh, I knew that was bad. So stupid. Tho thtupid! I'm tho thtupid!


THE ENTERTAINER: THAT RIGHT THERE! STOP THAT SHIT! Enough goddamn voices! You think they're so damn funny -- they're just FUCKING DUMB! We're so fucking tired of that retarded shit!

NEW YORK: I have to agree, CMF. The little characters you do are wearing me thin.


BILL SCURRY: New York, baby! You've gotta gimme a chance! I can save this! Always remember what George Santayana said: "A man is morally free when, in full possession of his living humanity, he judges the world, and judges other men, with uncompromising sincerity." I am that man! I stand in front of you, in front of all these men, laying myself bare so that you can see the very contour of my soul. I offer myself to you without compromise, without a mote of impurity in my ability to live and to act, a fully-functioning vessel of potential in this all-too-short lifespan we enjoy. If you would like to soar with me, high above the plains of awareness, with nothing but our dreams as propulsion, take my hand and choose a future with me. As Jupiter decreed to the Romans upon their fabrication of that great city of antiquity, Rome, His ego nec metas rerum nec tempora pono imperium sine fine dedi, or, quite literally, "For the affairs of these I set neither cycles nor periods, I grant them empire without limit."


SISTER PATTERSON: . . . .

BILL SCURRY: What if we go to Carl's Jr. next time?


NEW YORK: You have to go. Now. We're running out of tape. Do you still have love for New York?

BILL SCURRY: Mmpphh... boobs...


BUDDHA: That's a good man right there... damn... *sniff*... a good man. We're all poorer for losing him from this house.


IT: Fleeble gurble, mingle bingy donut. Pipe cake humma humma Germans jit-jit-jit.


NEW YORK: I know. I miss him already, too.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Sympathy for Mr. Boston

Is this a meritocracy or what? Does a man who puts the honest work into a task not deserve a fair grab at the brass ring?

I'm talking about Mr. Boston.

I'm talking about a double standard... or at the very least, declining standards.

New York is keeping on such dimwits as 12-Pack, Chance, and Whiteboy around -- but no love at all for Mr. Boston? That dude won in every way a guy could possibly win in a single episode! First, he scores huge points with the little girl party thing, and then he made mad-crazy romance with New York on the date he earned out the former. Then, in the boxing match with that wiry little malcontent Chance, he got the shit knocked out of his nose and took it like a man.

And his reward? New York gave over medallions to lesser men. Mr. Boston, you are out. Out-zo. Out-erino. Out-ington. Out-a-palooza. The Greater Out-Ford Area Chamber of Commerce Annual Potluck and Community Raffle held for thirteen years running in the Our Lady of the Sacred Outs Church basement.

If I know a thing or two about VH1, it's that their shows are all about HEART. Big, dedicated, beating HEART. The hero wins, the good guy gets the girl, the bad guy is vanquished, the one chick horks a huge loogie all over the other. There's no reason to see a good man take a fall just so a gay stripper like 12-Pack can move on. And seriously, how many more episodes will it take for Chance to stab someone with a lobster fork?

I'm just saying that a mistake has been made, and it took until the first commercial break of Studio 60 to get over it. I spill some Strawberry Quik on the carpet for you, Mr. Boston, my homie no longer here.