Tag Archives: Mr. Blog’s Tepid Ride

My Review of Perfect Strangers

17 Nov

from January 3, 2009

Perfect Strangers was a late 1980’s ABC sitcom. It was part of the Friday night TGIF lineup. TGIF stood for Thank God Its Florida. Every show in the lineup, every week, guest starred Esther Rolle as Florida Evans from Good Times. Bernadette Stanis would often appear as her daughter Thelma.

Perfect Strangers was a culture clash sitcom. An uptight Chicago guy named Larry, played by Mark Linn-Baker, suddenly found himself legal guardian of his semi-delusional cousin Balki, played by Bronson Pinochet, a distant relative of Augusto Pinochet, former Chilean dictator, 1973- 1990.

Mark Linn-Baker was best known for his role in Woody Allen’s 1979 film Manhattan. Saw the film but don’t remember him? That’s because his part wound up almost entirely on the cutting room floor. In fact, 47 minutes into the film, his reflection can clearly be seen in a revolving door, but the scene cuts away a second before he was to come through the door.

Bronson Pinochet is best known for funny accents and mugging for the camera. In 1997 he was passed over for the role of Bozo the Clown in the biopic My Life in Size Sixteen Shoes. Danny Bonaduce would later garner an Emmy nomination for the part.

The pilot began with Larry very happy with his life. He lived in a run down apartment in a lousy neighborhood and worked in a junk shop. Somehow this made him happy. His boss was a squat, oblate spheroid of a man, named Boss Twinkacetti. He had the same proportions as the Earth- he was four feet tall and four feet two inches wide. He hated Larry and would often spend whole days breaking things around the shop just so he could make Larry clean them up. Larry was an obsessive compulsive cleaner. If even one hair was out of place, he would have to comb random stranger’s hair.

One day, right after Larry had his nightly cocoa and changed into his nightshirt (and cap), there was a knock at the door. Larry opened the door and stood there, flabbergasted, as a pimp and a prostitute burst in and forced Larry to let them turn tricks in their apartment. (Hey, I said it was a lousy neighborhood.) The next night, however, it was cousin Balki on his doorstep.

Balki had just arrived in Chicago, fresh from the sanitarium. In a cost cutting measure, Balki was declared “near-competent” in order to clear space and free up a bed. Although born in Newark, he was under the delusion that he was from some island called “Mypos” where he herded sheep and everyone was goofy. Balki was a perfect television stereotype of the silly foreigner in America. He even came with a catchphrase. Whenever someone told him something he didn’t believe, like water from the sink didn’t come from the toilet flush, he said “don’t be a dick you louse.” It was never quite clear how that got past the censors.

Over the seasons Larry moved from much put-upon cashier at a junk shop to much put-upon worker at a newspaper. Balki never stopped being a fish out of water, even after eight seasons when the act had clearly gone stale. Plots would often be recycled from I Love Lucy or The Honeymooners, or in one memorable season six show, from the Moonlighting episode where Maddy and David reprised The Taming of the Shrew.

Eventually, Larry and Balki got married. Not, as you’d expect, to each other, but to two actual women. Even so, they still lived in the same apartment. Season eight episodes often dealt with Balki’s total misunderstanding of contraception. It was at this time that the show was moved to 10pm.

Perfect Strangers remains notable to this day as the show that lifted Mark Linn-Baker from total obscurity and dropped him right back there. Bronson Pinochet went on to star in something listed on imdb.com as Slappy and the Stinkers (1998.)

If Liz did not say that she liked this show, I would have left it in the dusty corner of my brain, along with Silver Spoons. In fact, right now I have the theme song to Silver Spoons running through my head. Curse you Joel Higgins!

The Burger King Whopper Virgins

17 Nov

from December 21, 2008

Have you seen this commercial? Burger King gathered people from around the world who had never heard of a burger in their lives and brought them together to choose between the Whopper and the Big Mac.

These people come from all sorts of indigenous populations who have been minimally tainted by contact with the West. These things never go well for the indigenous people. Usually, if left alone, they’ll end up alright, but when the West gets involved, the whole course of their natural cultural evolution gets shifted 128 degrees left. Take Japan for example. Want to know what Japan was like before Western culture came to them? Just watch any old 1970’s kung fu flick. There were samurai in every town, ninjas jumping out of trees, ronin roaming the countryside. You couldn’t walk to the yak farm down the road without having your honor challenged or a swordsman steal your ox cart. The average Japanese citizen had his local warlord on speed dial, so to speak. And now? Western suits, manga, and Godzilla. See what we did?

So Burger King took people who wore strange box-like hats, straw skirts, made clicking noises instead of speaking, and introduced them to the hamburger. They call these people “Whopper Virgins.” You see, they had never fucked a hamburger before.

They put these guys in a room, softened the lights, and let them first fuck a Big Mac and then fuck a Whopper and asked them which they preferred to fuck. The Whopper no-longer Virgins picked, by a wide margin, the Whopper as the burger they most liked to fuck. They preferred the bigger buns and meatier patties.

Burger King then put these people on the next boat home, crotches stained with mayonnaise, ketchup, and secret sauce.

What is Burger King thinking? How can they devote a whole advertising campaign to Whopper fucking? That’s disgusting. Who cares which burger is more fuckable? In the dark they all look the same anyway.

I think we need to take a stand. Burger fucking is where we should draw the line. Burger King should not be allowed to get away with this outrage. I am emailing future Senator Caroline Kennedy, the woman most able to put a stop to this, as well as global warming and interplanetary war. (Did you know that in the last presidential and mayoral elections she didn’t even bother to vote?)

Together, we can put an end to Whopper fucking.

See for yourself:
http://www.whoppervirgins.com