Who the hell watches game shows?
Really, game show watcher, why watch somebody else play? Isn’t life dull enough? Why put yourself through hours of boredom?
Why would anyone watch games over playing games? Go play Solitaire (and I don’t mean go play with yourself), I mean play Solitaire — on the computer, there are probably no people alive that know how to play it with cards.
Go dust off your Nokia and play Snake; again, I mean the game, not your snake.
Here is another game I just came up with that I’d rather play. Find a working door, set your head on the threshold of it, and smack your head as many times as you can before you pass out.
That’s just off the top of my very dented head.
I’d rather play all those before watching games!
I can’t wrap my head around game shows! Granted, it is really hard to wrap anything around because of my many concussions and how my head has more ups and downs than Joe Biden’s balance.
Maybe it is not even the game people want to watch, but these larger-than-life personalities crack jokes and interact with regular people.
Perhaps that’s what is also unsettling to me, see how these talented hosts waste away narrating game shows.
I look at these stars, who are clearly displeased with themselves and the way their lives turned out, and I think, “Is this what you thought the dream was?”
If that’s ever my lot in life, please, conspire with the game show eye candy to have me killed on stage!
I know, I know. They are crying all the way to one of their many mansions, calling their therapists to whine on their gold cellphones, in a room full of real art and not NFTs of it, blowing their noses on Jacksons and wiping their asses on Franklins.
Maybe getting a game show is like getting tenure in academia, a safe haven away from the chopping block, and a steady income source; even if it means wanting to perform hara-kiri with your own mic.
Then, there is the incredibly stupid topics like, “Is It A Cake?”
Is it a cake?
IS IT A CAKE?????
Are you asking me with a fucking straight face?
Who gives a shit?
WHO GIVES A SHIT??????
“Who gives a shit?” Why don’t you make that a game show, Netflix?
Apparently, some people do give a few shits because Netflix is considering releasing a second season of “Is it a Cake?”
This is not a meta critique on the need for entertainment as a form of escape. No. I understand that. Life is hard, and we all need entertainment at the end of the day.
I’m not saying, “how can anybody think of any entertainment when there are hungry people in Africa? When women are being stripped away from their rights? When there are mass graves in Ukraine? When Hong Kong is about to lose its freedom?”
We don’t care about that. Let’s be real, we don’t.
We need entertainment and numbness. And, of course, Cheetos and Dr. Pepper to go along with it because spacing out is not spacing out without mindless munching.
It is game shows I have a problem with.
Come to think of it, there is one game show I would be interested in watching. It is because I like to fancy myself a history buff.
I think this show could be optioned by National Geographic or the History channel.
It could be hosted by Mike Rowe who is known for tackling shows that serve as reflection and critique of what society at large appreciates and underappreciates.
The name of the game show you wonder, “Is It A Cock?”
You read that right, “Is It A Cock?”
I originally thought the name should be, “Is It A Cock And Balls?”, as it rolls nicely out of the mouth, which is the exact opposite motion men want their cock and balls to do.
But it is too long and it feels like shoe leather. And I’m not making a comment on the wrinkly nature of testicles here but I’m just pointing out the extra copy that feels unnecessary.
“Is It A Cock?” Will invite game participants to look at everyday products and then answer whether or not the inception of these artifacts was inspired by the ever-present dominant figure of the phallus.
The credit scene is Mike Rowe’s voice telling people about Freudian slips over pictures of Freud. A Freudian slip is an error supposed to be a representation of our dark and subconscious desires.
When asked if his cigar was a representation of subconscious desire, Freud responded, “sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”
Mighty convenient answer for someone with a cigar in his ass if you ask me? Of course, he said that, he came up with the goddamn theory.
Maybe his answer should have been, “sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Except in my case, in my case, it’s a Freudian slip… Or a penis.”
Then Mr. Rowe, would look at the camera, “So I ask you, game show participant, ‘Is It A Cock?’” Then cut to the show while playing in the background a song by U2 about cocks and how they create peace in the world.
The first show can focus on the faucet industry.
Why do they all look like well-endowed cocks?
Talk about cock and balls.
No, really, let’s talk about cock and balls.
Twist one ball, you get cold water.
Twist another ball, you get hot water.
This is not really a reflection of reality and I want to warn anyone not familiar with the proper functioning of a cock. One twist of either ball and you will get smacked right in the head unless your subject is into that twisted shit. And if that’s the case, run! You are in grave danger! You could even slip on a Freudian cigar if you don’t pay attention?
We could interject B-roll of interviews with stories of how the designers of these products were obsessed with penises.
“We tried presenting other designs but he just kept retracting back to the shaft.”
-Imaginary Assistant Researcher on Project Penis.
We could interject documentary B-roll and explore the hidden biases in the faucet industry.
The faucet industry represents all cocks as being larger-than-life cocks! These faucets never suffer from dysfunction and are always ready to dispense a strong, steady stream of “water.”
What about men who are growers? Growers are men with small faucets when relaxed that grow into bigger faucets when excited. But they are NOT represented by the faucet industry. And I don’t just mean the men who grow into well-endowed faucets but also the men who grow into sub-endowed itty bitty faucets.
Engineers and designers in the faucet industry should represent them, too!
People with microcigars are people, too. If you pinch their cigars, don’t they cry? I think we do. I mean, I think they do.
And what about women?
Make a faucet that is a cavity that makes your hands wet and then every 28 days, it reminds you that despite all the time and money you’ve spent in therapy, you are still turning into your father.
Representation matters, people!
And the game show industry needs more of it.
The show would end with Mike Rowe playing solitaire with his snake while smoking a cigar and saying to the camera with his witty sexy smile, “it is likely a mighty shiny timely cock!”
I don’t know about you, but that show is a cock I can get behind.