Sunday, November 22, 2009
Because meta-jokes about dipping testicles into assorted things never go out of style, I—21st century woman—spent the last couple of hours watching The State—20th century MTV sketch comedy show—on DVD. Here are two thoughts that I thought in the midst of it all:
1. 90s jeans are yearn-worthy. They’re also yarn-worthy, whatever that means.
2. Michael Ian Black hasn’t aged. Just kidding. He totally has.
In addition to these two thoughts, I also had some other thoughts. Most were about burritos but some were about Michael Showalter.
You see, he’s kind of a god to me. I love him because he’s funny but also because he has cat shoulders.
There’s something very quaint about Michael Showalter. If he weren’t a comedian I think he’d be a florist, specializing in rare hetero sporangium. Or a flautist, but only because that kind of sounds like florist. He’s like a sweet old man trapped in the body of a sweet not-quite-middle-aged man. Anyway, he was my favorite member of The State.
I wrote the following limerick as a tribute to the show.
The State is kinda like a pap smear,
conducted by Mr. Belvedere.
Dinga linga linga ling,
limericks really aren’t my thing,
my name’s Amber and I’m outta heeeere.