Originally posted at That Guy With the Glasses. Archived here because they mucked about with their blog format and I lost all my shiny comments :(



Come with me, if you can, on a journey of exploration. Imagine, if you will…

Outside of your parents' house, torrents, DVDs and Hulu, you have gone without cable TV since college graduation; and even then, you were a casual viewer at best. You've managed to stay informed of the most fantastic of pop-culture influences; but on the whole, cable TV has become a strange beast, the Land Beyond Where There Be Dragons.

Now imagine you move into a new abode. You arrange affairs accordingly with a service provider, and--having been Tried and Found Worthy—the Day of Installation arrives.

No longer do you have only Internet, oh no!—now, there is Cable, and you have a TV with which to utilize such wonders.

But times have changed, my innocent friend, and the channels you once loved are not quite what you remember. Yes, you've been through such transformation before; like the time in high school you woke up to realize that you couldn't recall the last time MTV had played an actual music video.

Oh yes, you may have sighed for what had been but you moved on—MTV had been going down the tubes since Daria got a boyfriend, anyway.

But now—you turn on your TV, and find that the channels you once loved are now like terrifying clowns wearing the lifeless faces of the people you loved.

You find the History Channel waging a never ending battle between shows about Hitler and shows about Nostradamus. The Sci Fi Channel is now the SyFy Channel, proving that an excess of 'y's never makes ANYTHING better.

Luckily, The Discovery Channel is still entertaining; though there's a little less science and a lot more explosions that would make Michael Bay weep in ecstasy.

But TLC—

~*~

Oh, TLC.

In a way, TLC, I understand your tragic decline. You were always the rebound girlfriend when there was nothing interesting on The Discovery Channel. Poor ratings in the 90s necessitated a new line of attack. You'd been around since the 70s, after all--a make-over was needed. And oh, were you made over.

First it was the Home Improvement shows. And they were good. Many a project did I foolishly begin thanks to your easy confidence that I too could Do It Myself. Then came the Self Improvement shows. Dress right! Wear make up! Outward appearance is key to confidence!

--here is where we began parting ways. I no longer had cable, and you were just too…INTO yourself. Oh, there was a show or two I'd watch, but I felt like I didn't know you anymore.

Three years later. It's been a long time, TLC. We've both grown a lot. I went the way of Mythbusters and Dirty Jobs. You focused on family. BIG families. So I should have seen this show coming. After all, it so obscenely combines your love of real life medical dramas with your love of babies.

I am referring, of course, to I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant, the show that makes the Feminine Mystique a Cthulhian Nightmare.


~*~

Gentle reader, imagine if you dare that you came across this show unawares. On the screen is a woman. She's not feeling well. She has a stressful job at a fast food joint. She's gained 10 pounds, but she still fits in her clothing. She takes monthly pregnancy tests at a medical clinic so she can receive free birth control. She goes to work. And proceeds to GIVE BIRTH IN THE ESTABLISHMENT'S BATHROOM.

Ladies—

You're having cramps--but you might be pregnant.

Aunt Flo's come around again--but you might be pregnant.

Woo! You've lost weight for your wedding!--but you might be pregnant.

But I know what you're thinking. "Nella!" you cry, "I am a MAN and therefore do not FEAR that I might, in fact, be pregnant!"

Oh, really?

Imagine, my good fellow, that you are in a long-term relationship with a lady. Things are going swell. You don't notice anything is wrong with her, aside from the fact that her feet have been swelling lately. You both decide to spend a weekend camping. The next thing you know, a nurse in a neighboring tent is running over to save YOUR BABY WHO HAS SLID RIGHT OUT OF YOUR LADY AND ONTO THE FLOOR OF THE CAMPGROUND BATHROOM, AND YOU DIDN'T SEE IT COMING.

This show has introduced a horrifying new concept into my life: Toilet Babies. They happen Every. Episode. And sometimes, twice in a single show.

But hey, as long as you don't have sex, you can still sleep at night, right?





Pleasant dreams.

From: (Anonymous)

Все, что хочешь - интернет магазин гиперлегальности



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