NBC, you’re sucking up the Olympics like your primetime schedule.

There are lots of things I like about NBC. Brian Williams is awesome. Richard Engel is super badass. They hired Howard freaking Stern as a judge on America’s Got Talent. Bob Costas pretty much got Jerry Sandusky to confess on the air. Those are pretty awesome things.

HOWEVER. They are sucking up their coverage of the Olympics.

  • Why did I never get to see ANY footage of American men or anyone else on the rings for the men’s gymnastics events?

    Apparently, this wasn’t worth showing.

  • Why did they completely cut Gabby Douglas’s and Aly Raisman’s routines on the balance beam (purportedly Raisman’s best event after the floor routine) in primetime coverage? Yet they showed the two Russians and the Chinese woman in their rotation…
  • Every single interview goes essentially thusly: How is it winning [insert level medal here]? How does that make you feel? To which everyone responds in some variation of “It’s overwhelming; I can’t put it into words.” And if I hear the Today show hosts ask one more kid if they slept with their medal under their pillow last night, I will strangle all of them, even though I kind of love Savannah Guthrie.
  • Only showing major events in primetime kind of sucks because it’s too easy to spoil it for yourself… *frowns at Twitter.*
  • NBC can’t even keep their own spoilers under control: see Missy Franklin’s first gold medal:
  • Moments before airing Missy Franklin’s tape-delayed Olympic victory in the 100-meter backstroke, NBC ran a promo for Tuesday’s edition of “Today” that said this:

They’re waiting for NBC to show the missing balance beam routines, too.

“When you’re 17 years old and win your first gold medal, there’s nobody you’d rather share it with.”
The network had yet to show Franklin’s win when it ran the “Today” teaser that included this photograph of the teen sensation standing on the medal stand with the gold draped around her neck.

  • Local coverage of the Olympics is nonsense. It’s like a giant masturbation fest for local news sportscasters who are all running amuck in London. I feel awful for Londoners; I felt particularly awful when our local sportscaster thought it’d be hilarious to ask everyone in the vicinity of Big Ben what time it was in an effort to get them to look at the giant clock. That’s worth a fork in my eye.
  • NBC decided it made more sense to cut a tribute to the victims of London’s 2005 terrorist bombings. They showed a clip of Ryan Seacrest’s interview with ass kissing of Michael Phelps instead.
  • Ryan Seacrest. Enough said.

    NBC: sucking up the Olympics since 1964.

Do you take your coffee with incest or sugar?

A few weeks ago, I was sitting around watching TV with my boyfriend when the following ad flittered across our screen.

After it finished, we sat looking at each other, both of us sporting that priceless, “what the hell did I just witness?” look on our faces. “Was that… weird… or was it just me?” I asked. Boyfriend agreed, the commercial was “creepy.” It passed without much further thought, until it came up while he was at work recently. His coworkers thought the same commercial was “cute.” He adamantly disagreed. So, this morning, when we saw it yet again I started to wonder if maybe it was just us. Apparently not, however. According to a couple websites, the spot is a remake of a Folger’s ad from the 1980s where the little girl is actually pretty much a baby, not a quasi-teenager.

Other than age between the two girls, there are a few other notable differences (e.g. the focus on the coffee and not on the awkward bedroom eyes between adult siblings). In the new version, it seems that the parents break up what is an awkwardly too-loving moment between the siblings when they enter the kitchen, and then the commercial just ends.

But seriously, Folgers. I don’t know any siblings who engage with each other so… earnestly. Sure, a couple of sisters will hug, brothers might shake hands or do the man-hug, but all the brother-sister combos I know are more likely to be giving each other a little bit of shit (“You’ve been on safari in Africa and you’re still pale? What gives?”). Apparently you got this in the beginning, but you still glossed it in Christmas-cheer-incest (“I must have the wrong house….!”). She even has to identify her relationship to our West African traveler by yelling “SISTER!” and pointing at herself awkwardly so we get the point that their hug and subsequent googly eyes are sooooo not supposed to be between lovers. No sexual tension here, folks, keep movin’. -Cringe- Here’s a thought, Folgers: find some actors who can really act like siblings and aren’t waiting to bang each other as soon as they’re off-set. It shows. And it makes me never, ever want to drink your coffee again.

Stop Having Babies. Seriously.

I have never watched TLC’s “19 and Counting.” However, my boyfriend left the TV on the Today Show when he left this morning, and I happened to catch a segment with a family that was expecting their twentieth child.

WHAT THE HELL!? I immediately used the google machine to find out who these “Duggar” people were… and found their TLC show website. Oh my god. There are so many things wrong with having that many children when modern medicine has advanced far enough to keep most, if not all, of our offspring alive. A twenty-two person family is ridiculous. And some of those kids are having GRANDKIDS. How old are they, like 23? Good god, give it a rest–aren’t you already sick of never having a life and only knowing the noise of a crying child in your home? Get a dog or something for pete’s sake.

Additionally, the mom must have been pregnant with very little time non-preggers for the last twenty years. Who wants to be endlessly pregnant for two decades, and have to take care of all the kids you popped out along the way? If that’s not a living hell, I don’t know what is. Unless you are an attention whore and love the praise you get for being knocked up (because everyone who gets knocked up is apparently a saint. Way to go!).

If these people didn’t have a TV show, there’s no way they wouldn’t be living in or near poverty, unless they were independently wealthy. Giant families like this often rely on the generosity of others to pay their bills, buy clothes for their kids, and feed their family. This is not a cut against their work ethic or anything–just simple math. A family of twenty two is more like a small colony. Your family is four times bigger than what is already considered a large family (two parents, three kids). What really irritates me is that these people could easily avoid a giant family. It’s called birth control pills. Or a condom. Seriously. You’re not going to hell for it, and it’s more responsible to actually be able to raise the kids you popped out instead of making your older children raise the younger ones.

I just don’t understand the logic behind being perpetually pregnant and having a ton of kids. Just don’t. Seriously. Adopt some kids who need a home if you want a ton of kids. Having twenty children is just irresponsible and selfish.

There’s Nothing Funny About Living With Dudes

The New Girl is a television show airing on FOX, starring the adorable and quirky Zooey Deschanel. The main premise of the show, aside from Deschanel’s epic break-up, is the cute-but-totally-weird-and-awkward girl lives with three dudes, and isn’t that hilarious?!? One girl living with a bunch of guys!! AHHAAAA!

I am going to fill you in, America, there is nothing cute or funny about being the one girl living with a bunch of dudes. Take it from someone who did it: Nothing about it is funny and everything about it sucks.

Five Reasons Not to Move in With Your Guy Friends

1. Everything smells like male body odor and Axe.

Dudes smell. There’s just no way around it. Whether it’s dirty socks lurking in the living room or strange smells wafting into your bedroom from the room across the hall, there’s always a smell of dude sweat when you live with guys. Also, now that we have been blessed with Axe (because Old Spice just wasn’t cutting it for awful pseudo-cologne anymore), every bathroom always smells like a strange combination of cinnamon and musk, causing any person with asthma who enters to immediately have a coughing fit. Awesome.

2. If you weren’t bargaining for a parade of whores, you should have.

Guys are focused on one thing when they go out: getting chicks to come home with them. Get ready for a parade of different girls who range in attractiveness from the super hot to the painfully ugly tramping around your house at all hours of the night and awkwardly sneaking by so they don’t have to introduce themselves (or be introduced) to you. They (perhaps rightfully) fear your womanly judgment. Also, you will oftentimes find they’ve used the only girly products in the bathroom after they’ve fucked your roommate and took a shower before they did their walk of shame. Thanks, ladies. Much obliged. Additionally, every friend you ever invite over will not only be treated as a house guest, but will often be invited to be one of your roomies’ bed guest as well, because you no longer have friends: you have potential sex partners for your roommates.

3. You will know every song from every video game and the plot to every bad action flick forward and backward.

Your living room is no longer a living room. It is now what is called a “man cave.” That means the staple decorations are empty beer cans, three week old potato chips hiding beneath the rug, dirty dishes, and the lurking stray sock I mentioned before. The TV will only show the following: sports of all kinds (even those as obscure and stupid as curling), first person shooters and sports video games (if you don’t know that first term, live with dudes and it will become VERY familiar), bad action movies or other manly movies, sci-fi series movies–think Star Wars or Lord of the Rings, and other crappy and generally unfunny TV (e.g. Workaholics). Forget ever watching Grey’s Anatomy or Teen Mom or Say Yes to the Dress or Ghost or any Lifetime movie.

4. Your kitchen will always be sticky, dirty, and smell like something died in it.

Dudes generally suck at cooking and/or know nothing about storing food. This results in a lot of food particles and rotting bananas around your kitchen. Between this, sticky beer/alcohol residue, beer cans, and Chinese take out and pizza boxes, it’s basically impossible to navigate, let alone cook in this room. So, that Coq Au Vin recipe you were going to make for your boyfriend for your anniversary? Yeah, forget about it–go out.

5. They don’t see you as a girlfriend/sex partner, and therefore you fit into the same category as their mother.

You have passed from being drooled over as the sex object or chased after as the girlfriend into the friend zone. You aren’t an accessible vagina, and therefore when you ask for something, it’s nagging. Now you’ve entered the mom zone. Once this happens, all bets are off. Get used to being expected to clean up after your dude roomies, retrieve forks from their bedrooms when they all disappear from the kitchen, pick up those dirty socks in the living room, clean the bathroom fixtures, and take care of all the things their mothers have been doing for them for the last twenty two years.

So instead of living with four dudes, you, in the matter of a few weeks, have suddenly birthed quadruplets. Congratulations on being a New Mom!