We’re in the Pho joint right next to Til Two Club in San Diego a few months back.
Pho King….. get it?

It’s a good place, noodles with just enough surface tension, a bone broth deep in flavor with just that faint waft of urine that lets you know the place is legit.

I look up from my slurping and notice a little Vietnamese boy watching me intently.
I look away, but when I look back he’s still staring. I shrug to his Mom.

“He thinks that’s you,” she says.
She points with her chopsticks at the TV montior hanging above our heads.
I look up and there he is, Anthony Bourdain, Parts Unknown or maybe a rerun of No Reservations.

The kid looks up at the TV where Bourdain is also hovering over an Asian noodle dish, then down at me, and back to the TV again. He laughs.

Got Bourdained, we’ve grown to calling it.
Without fail, on our travels here and there, I inevitably get the double take and then it’s Hey, anyone ever tell you, you look just like….

I come back to the United lounge and sit down with the fellas.
“Got Bourdained again,” I tell Kimm. “That’s three for the day.”

I don’t see it.
I mean, am I really that grey of head?
I’ve always seen myself as more of the Wayne Newton doppelganger, or maybe an Osmond brother with gigantism.

But man, they keep coming up to me to point out the resemblance.
One chap actually cornered me at the back of the plane while we floated a mile above Duluth.
“Hey man, don’t want to bother you, but just wanted to say I love all your stuff!”

I am immediately inflated, thinking, ah, you meet CH3 fans in the strangest places! Now where is a pen for me to sign an autograph and make this mortal’s day special?

But then he takes a closer look and his face falls in disappointment.
“Ah, sorry about that, you’re not him are you? Anyone ever tell you ya look just like….”

What I’ve come to understand is people really love-loved- Anthony Bourdain.
It’s made me appreciate at least I don’t look like Mike Pence for fuck sake.

And for some reason they feel the need to tell me how much they enjoy the shows, can only dream of his lifestyle.
Man, if I could only live like that! I wish!

Now we learn of his farewell, and it hits you like a sock to the gut.
It makes you wonder at the blackest of holes that can lurk deep inside us all.
What deep despair pulls at a soul, no matter if they are lounging on a tropical beach with a Michelin rated chef or sucking cock for rock in the alley?

But besides this tragedy, and the show we will miss– that food, the smarmy commentary! —I think this hurts so hard because we all felt Bourdain was one of our own:
A punk.

My fave episodes of his shows are when he hung out with musicians.
I think he understood just how connected bands are to food and travel, the twin comforts and demons to any touring band.

There he is, in the city with David Johansen, cruising the backstreets of Helsinki with Sami Yaffa.
And when he sat down with Iggy, you could just feel the adoration Anthony had for the man and the music.

But my very favorite show was when he went to Montana and sat with fuckin Jim Harrison for a meal and a chat.
The grizzled lion of letters, croaking out his poetry in a cloud of American Spirits.
Anthony Bourdain sat, rapt and respectful, and I could only hope I could hold my own half as well in the presence of a hero.

And, damn.
Both gone?

In Kitchen Confidential he was open and honest about the drug use and fuckups, as well as his love of truly good music.
It made him that more relatable to our tribe.

The line cooks with their own demons, listening to the Dolls while blanching the Brussels Sprouts.
Smoking in the back alley before dinner crush, comparing their Cocksparrer tattoos blemished by yet another 2nd degree burn by a molten saute pan handle.

Punk rockers connecting the dots with food, rejecting corporate fast food to search the back alleys for a memorable meal after soundcheck.
Trying to capture the essence of a city by its food, where in the past it may have been a more lethal gluttony.
Now: Ingestion, not injection.

And when we saw him sitting down to noodles with Barack Obama, the graceful world leader meeting junkie punk, we could only feel it as somehow a triumph for all of us in the tribe.

On Damian Abraham’s excellent Turned Out a Punk  podcast he shows a respectful and deep history with the New York scene. No celebrity poseur with the 10 grand Crass leather jacket here.
The guy knew the food , the music, the places.

But now another one gone.
This tragic news we consume with resignation, seems like nearly every week.

I never met the guy, no connection at all.
I’m just a fan, just like the people that feel the need to come up to me and point out the resemblance.
They take a moment out of their day to tell me about their connection to Anthony Bourdain, and I can see their love for him even though they are disappointed they did not get to meet the man.

Sometimes, I tell them, “Hell, tell your friends you did, though, right?”

And they think about that for a moment and then nod their heads in agreement.
And they walk away, happy.

The CH3 Eye on TV: Rick and Morty

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I switched off the Vizio and sat there a moment in the quiet.

I’d just been filled with 18 hours of heartbreaking imagery, stories from people still shattered by a world’s shameful actions.  I looked down at the dog, and she looked back at me but would not come close for a scratch:  probably pissed that she, too, had to endure those horrific images painted by an inferior breed.

That was some necessary Television, once again reminding us of the very power that the glowing screen can have.
But later that night sleep is impossible, and I whisper for Alexa to play Straight to Hell  for the eighth time in a row before giving up and switching on the tube once again.

Let’s tune into SportsCenter, see what’s going on in the good ‘ol NFL for some lighthearted fare, shall we?




And then it seems Dear Leader has taken to the airwaves yet again, like a drunken Uncle commandeering a Thanksgiving table with his vast repertoire of racist knock-knock jokes, and turned our mindless escapism into a political shitstorm–Nice!

I’m in need of some comfort food from the Cathode Ray at this point.
What I wouldn’t give just to see Lucy stomping grapes or Gilligan getting bonked on the head with a coconut, yeh?

This week: Walt and Jesse cook up a new batch

Television has changed to the point we can’t even call it TV any more.

We are now all isolated in our own video bubble, with personal playlists backing up the DVR, Netflix series watched in narcotic marathon sittings.
The next episode starts in 10,9,8–o shit.
Well, maybe just one more episode, just one more hour of life surrendered to the couch.
Might as well order up some fucking Papa Johns and give up the last of the dignity.

We haven’t watched a commercial at normal speed in four years, and suffer the anxiety of being left far behind if we’re not careful, ashamed we haven’t even watched a single episode of Game of Thrones.  

Gone are the days of reporting to the den on the hour for a shared evening of family entertainment.  Just try to make your daughter sit down and finally watch Caddyshack with you as it is rerun yet again on TBS. 

….so I’ve got the going for me, which…Hey! Where’d you go?

It’s not 25 minutes into it, you cracking  each golden quote aloud in sync with Carl the Groundskeeper, before you turn to get a reaction and find you are alone on the couch.  She has silently escaped upstairs to catch up with her beloved Housewives on Bravo on Demand.

I get it.
It’s a real commitment of time and effort to take on a new show with all this content, but there’s something you need in your life, one golden corner of actual cable that is punk rock in animated form:


Awwww yeah!   Rick and Morty, son!

We finally have the anti hero we need in these dire times.

Forget about Tony Soprano and Walter White, the central characters with Character, who you gotta root for regardless of their horrors.

It’s an animated show, sure.  And the late night time slot on Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim may have you writing the show off as just another crudely drawn yuckfest for the dabs and Jack in the Box crew.  But it is a lot more.

Rick and his goofy grandson Morty have taken us along on a magical journey all right, though a lot of the realities we visit seem to have a lot to do with fart jokes

But Rick Sanchez does Not. Give. A. Fuck.

While we think we need the answers to the daily problems that seem to be cursing us all, the racial strife, the world disorder brought down on us by dotard maniacs, Rick has bigger fish to fry.

Rick stands guard over the very construct we call reality, and is probably the only thing that keeps us from being absorbed by some grasshopper corporation or slipping  into a dual reality where people have butts for faces, but what ya gonna do?

Rick stands on the very ledge of the existential void, has seen and done it all.

And it apparently is not pretty.  He stays drunk most of the time, not wanting to ponder the meaninglessness of each reality, the horrors of every plane of existence that he visits or creates.

He is GG Allin with portal gun.  Take a shit on the floor, indeed! 

Besides, Rick has that hair favored by so many of your more mature punk rock stars. Hell, put him in a Propaghandi tee and cargo shorts and he’s ready to rock the RiotFest yo!

Each episode finds some nugget to melt your mind, and will have you feeling along the drywall as you walk the hallways, lest you fall through a portal to woogy oogy land or some goddamned Cronenbergian nightmare.


We are dealing with the very fabric of time and space here, but that doesn’t keep R&M from also dealing with very Earthbound issues like family dynamics and haunting regrets.

And fart jokes. So many fart jokes.

….everyone’s got one, but how is it made?

Can it really be time for the Season 3 finale already?  Oooo weee!

But what will we do without Rick’s bitter lessons, how will we get through the madness of this absurd existence without his reluctant leadership?
Are we left alone to make sense of a war fought for so little that costs us so much? Can we really be this close to global destruction again, the fates of innocent youth in the hands of egomaniac imbeciles?

Perhaps it is Morty who put it all in perspective for us, finally, with this heartbreaking speech to Summer from Season one.

I’m better than your brother. I’m a version of your brother you can trust when he says “Don’t run.” Nobody exists on purpose, nobody belongs anywhere, everybody’s gonna die. Come watch TV.

And with that, I turn off the box and finally sleep.

The CH3 Eye on TV: Survivorman

We’ve had several complaints directed toward the CH3 Entertainment staff about our lack of TV coverage this year, so let’s get right to it:

Yer right, of course.
Television has become nothing more than an appliance:
We check into yet another moldy motel room in yet another grouchy city, and we flick on each light, harsh yet supposedly green in its twisty fluorescent garishness.

We toss the guitars on the beds, their spreads decorated beyond their original paisley swirls with suspect biological stain.

And, with a sigh, it’s TV on, as the soul yearns for the glow of the hearth, yeh?

Then it’s an meandering journey the unfamiliar channels, looking for Sportcenter , which has become the soothing common thread that unites this wide continent.

But surely, with this discriminating American intellect there must be tonnes of worthy programming on the ‘ol box these days, am I right?

Let’s take a quick look, shall we:

Note to Editor: No caption necessary

Ah, reality television:
Just what is this shit?

People like to blame the Europeans for the Big Brother template and the Japanese for their grotesque game shows, but the finger always comes back to us for the The Real World and Cops, two shows that are probably still on the air for all I know.

… come this show never went to Fullerton, hmmm?

But you’d be hard pressed to find them,as it seems every other show is a reality these days……


Kim Kardashian shaving her Persian bush?
A Father and Son living a fake feud while building the fucking ugliest motorcycles ever?

….oooh, bitchen!

This is Television?

To what do we owe this stream of excrement?
The high production cost of the scripted show?
The lack of any new ideas from the sea of young writers raised on a steady diet of music videos and Playstation?

No, it’s the proliferation of cable networks–and the need to fill those hours with cheap and mindless fluff:
No snooty writers necessary here, brother!

Now this is scripted television!

Oh sure, there probably is some quality stuff out there—we couldn’t make it through the week without our Good Eats or Top Chef, and yeah, a lot of you wags out there like to hold us up to Anthony Bourdain as a reference point.
Yeah yeah, boozy snide comments and fatty snacks–we get ya!

Sadly, Ant B has lost a lot of credibility in our eyes this new season–
I mean, how can you go from the smoking, boozing cook that hangs out with fucking David Johasen, Bill Murray, and-seriously!-Jim Harrison!– to barbecuing at SXSW with the hideous Sleighbells?!

…now yer talking!
……soul sold.

But the number one badass pimp out there in the reality landscape has got to be our man Les Stroud:

You knowSurvivorman!!

Have you seen the show?
No no, not Survivor, where the whiny contestants merely try to outlast each other as if they were annoying people sharing adjoining cubicles, ratting each other out to HR and pissing in the coffee pot.

No, this is motherfuckin’ Survivorman, where Les heads out to a harsh landscape by himself for a week, armed only with a backpack full of cameras and a stick of beef jerky.

Yeah, the easy comparison is to Man vs Wild, but we now know about camera crews and luxury hotels employed by that show, as well as the suspicious manscaping

…obviously stayed at the Radisson last night…

Nah, ol Bear (Bear!) Grylls is far too dapper for us, with his rock climbing shoes and jaunty way of crawling into a planted moose carcass to spend the night—yeah right, like that’s how I’m gonna get through a night after I’ve lost my car keys- again! in Jumbo’s Clown Room.

No, not some sexy ex British Special Forces, our man Les is just yer ordinanry Canuck shlub.
He always looks hungover and ill-prepared for the task at hand, which is perfect when ya think about it.

….awww–he brought his pet along this time!

I mean, are you really gonna be wearing your Columbia outer wear and packin’ 200 ft. of five strand nylon braid when you get caught off guard?

No, probably like us, you’ll be wandering around the woods outside a Jersey rest area in your Converse high tops and a Hawaiian shirt, nothing more than a Starbucks card and 2 Xanax in your pocket, an orange House of Blues all access around your neck.

But Les shows us how it’s done, how to rip the stuffing out of your car seat to make ear muffs and how to kill a badger to extract your own personal lubricant.

And when he inevitably makes a fire by any of a dozen different wacky methods, the money shot on any episode, the joy in his eyes is contagious.

Look, fire! And just using moose dung and pubic hair!

But most notable is no camera crew!
What many of the idiotic viewers of these so called reality shows forget, is these people dealing with their solitary struggles are actually surrounded by 5 camera guys, 2 lighting men, a grip, sound man and assorted Israeli makeup guys—-come on!

Ah, but Les is on his own, man:
And he has to set up the goddamn cameras, walk away from them for that artsy man in the wilderness shot, then come back and pack it up!

How very punk rock in his diy ethic is our boy, humping the gear up and down hills, setting it up and then breaking it down.
It’s like nothing so much as loading a Marshall half stack up and down the stairs at Cathay de Grande when ya think about it!

But the show is falling into the common rut, so I’d propose to shake things up on the next season’s adventures:

Maybe Les has to live in Silverlake for a month without wearing Ray Ban Aviators or a lame beard, and has to keep on schedule with his Student Loan payments.

Or maybe we set Les loose into the wilds of Manhattan, seeing if can survive the week on nothing more than 200 dollars a day!
And he has to not only eat decently, but also get passable seats to Book of Mormon and fuck a mid-level runway model.

Les eats a forty dollar truffle outside Les Bernardin

In fact, it would be a great episode if they put Les on the ultimate survival adventure: a Summer on the road with an aging punk rock band….

We’d see if Les has what it takes to travel hundreds of miles a day in a poorly air conditioned SUV with spotty cell reception, surviving on only greasy corporate fast food and poorly attended shows.

He’ll have to sit behind the merch table while the rest of the band eats burritos and drinks shots of Jameson on the patio, and we’ll make him deal with the sad promoter at the end of the night.
And then we’ll see who really is Survivorman !

Watch Survivorman on the Discovery Channel, 4pm Wednesdays PDT

The CH3 Eye on TV: Glee!

Things have been a little slow here at the CH3 Entertainment desk, so we were intrigued when we received advance copies of the season finale of some show —-Glee!

Have you heard of this one?
Don’t feel bad, me either bub!

Apparently, it’s the story of a bunch of high school kids that are part of a Glee Club.
A Glee Club? What the fuck is that you axe?

You know, a choir……chorus—singing, ya got me? A Glee Club!
Hand me my raccoon coat and Yale flag, ol chum, because I have a feeling we’re in for a pip of a time with this one!

So anyway, this sitcom is about some misfit kids that get together and sing pop songs, and they have high school dramas and some people hate them, and then they win at the end.

Excuse me, but I would like to congratulate the fine folks in Development over at Fox, for their courage to apparently green light every piece of shit that comes across their desks these days!

But far be it from me to bad mouth any show that shows popular music on television.
I hate to go back to my familiar, when I was a kid mantra, but…
When I was a kid, we didn’t have all these chances to see the music on TV!
Oh no.

Back in the day, it was a real treat to see rock and roll on the box!!

Which one's the cute moron and which one's the cynical wit? Remind me again!

You see all these interviews about future stars and that life changing moment: The Beatles on Ed Sullivan!

Pretty cool I guess, although I was more impressed by the little homosexual mouse that Ed had a strange pedio/beastial arrangement with!

....I'll be back later to tuck you in, if ya get my drift!

Oh, we had a lil bit of rockin TV on those measly seven channels available:

See kids? Before he was a lovable dope addled TV dad, Ozzy used to be someone!!

Midnight Special was pretty good too, although you had to sit through goddman Maria Muldaur or Captain and Tenille before they got to Alice Cooper lip-synching Cold Ethel!

But then again, you know you loved it—- all alone on a Friday night, watching Tenille and those lips just millimeters from a phallic mic as you dry-humped the couch, didn’t you ya, ya little perv!

mmm..that's it baby, I'm almost there!

Things got a little better, just before MTV came along and forever changed the way we saw music.
Perhaps the culmination was this inevitable meeting of the 2 most influential musical forces to a young and incubating CH3!!!:

It’s all changed now, of course.

We have 24 hour streaming crap fests of rap music videos, live performances of the Moody Blues on You Tube….. Pay per View of the Eagles shilling their dreaded comeback/farewell tour yet again.

And reality television?
Whoo boy, what the fuck did we ever do before this valuable glimpse at what Gene Simmons does with his spare time!

Gee, what about Eddie Money?
Go ahead and give him a show too, goddamnit, what the hell do I care any more?!

Hello. May I introduce you to an hour of your life you will never get back.

Sorry, what the hell were we talking about?


Hey, here’s a good looking bunch, am I right?
……let’s see, we have the gay kid, the Oriental, the fat chick, the sassy sister and the quad.

What, no Down’s kids or crack whores were available at the time of filming?

Alright, we get it! Diversity, united colors, we’re all beautiful….blah blah

I can’t wait til next season, when I hear they will be introducing two new exciting cast members: the spunky kid with leprosy and a young color blind hamas terrorist!

Oh, but wait til you hear this kid sing Billy Joel!

Ah, but clever writers, these lovable losers are more than they appear!

The geeks are the stars, the queers are the studs, Korean kids are bad at math but good at dancing!
And the kid in the wheelchair is….I shit you not…the MC wit the most skill, spittin mad sixteens like we ain’t heard since Bushwick Bill!

Yo....step off ma dick 'fore I cap yo ass!

Black is white, up is down, cats bitch slap dogs and make them co-sign bad loans….hold me, I’m seeing spots again!!

Don’t these people see the goddamn harm they’re doing to the social fabric?
Oh, they call these kids the outcasts, but they’re really the cool kids, don’t ya see?

Is this how you remember High School? Fuck No.

Without the cruel torture of High School, and its true social strata, where is the sweet revenge to be savored decades later?

The gay kid who goes on to own a whole apartment building in Belmont Shores, the Oriental geek from Math Club now owns the Bio Tech firm housed in those sleek black monoliths off the 405 in Irvine?
No More.

Apparently they’re now happy in High School!

...but I am beautiful inside. Agree or i will eat your fingers!

And the Fat Chick?

If she’s getting all this quality self esteem in High School, where will we ever get the next generation of fag hags and enthusiastic phone sex operators, hmmmm?
In a world where everyone is the cool kid, where is the enemy?

Oh, but the music!
Is that what ya said? The music?!

Listen, If I wanted to see some cut rate Babs and Andy Williams butcher Islands in the Stream, I’d go down to my local Tibbies Music Hall.
At least there I could have a drink and get a decent Sirloin out of the ordeal!

Try to act casual and look seventeen...action!

Gee, the singing, the dancing……. hey! Where the hell do these kids get the budget for these production numbers, huh?
Is that where my precious Lottery dollars are going, goddamnit?

...let's see, with the stunt casting and water effects, this little number cost the school district 45 grand. No big, we'll just pink slip a dozen teachers, k?

We had a brief hope that things would spark up when we caught a glimpse of one kid with an actual mohawk!
We were all but certain that the kids would next break into a heart warming rendition of GG Alin’s I Wanna Fuck the Shit Out of You…..!

Hey we're gettin somewhere!

But no.
Ol’ Mohican just looks mean, and then stares straight into lens and starts singin’ motherfuckin Journey!


Is this what John Lennon came over here, sweating under klieg lights in Cuban heels, and was eventually killed for?
So that a bunch of whiny brats could introduce a new generation to crappy classic rock??

Oh yes.
See, after each episode, the kids flock to Itunes and download these mysterious melodies they’ve just heard.
And then, hey Dad, check out these cool songs I discovered on my program!

Congratulations. You open up the bank statement and discover junior has just purchased the entire Fleetwood Mac back catalogue.

Is this what’s really driving the show, hmmmm?

Why do I get the uneasy feeling this crapfest is really just a thinly disguised version of the ol Columbia House record club scam!

I now own Zep IV and a dozen Toys in the Attics......

Oh, you know–that was where you got to pick out 13 —13!–albums for just a penny each!! whooo !
But then, God help you, if you didn’t keep up with this boiler room operation and decline the next offering, you’d come home to discover Steely Dan’s Aja on your doorstep, and now you’re liable for that piece of shit and shipping—-!

Thank God, we have the always fine Jane Lynch playing Sue Sylvester, the only character we care about—because she’s saying what we’re thinking!!

Now this gentleman we can stand behind!

Yeah, they’re all Losers.
But guess what? We’re the Losers too, people, for watching this load!

Gimmee my dvd of Gummo, will ya, so I can wash the taste out of my mouth!!!

Ya don't sing, do ya kid? Good! Let's keep it that way....

*Watch Glee on Fox TV, Tuesday nights at 10!

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The CH3 Eye on TV: Mad Men

Sheesh, and I thought AMC was only good for watching Outlaw Josey Wales for the goddamn 112th time whilst hungover and eatin Fritos……… but no.

Apparently, they’ve gotten a little frisky with the original programming at the basic cable movie channel.
First we had Breaking Bad, finally-finally!–a sympathetic look at Meth Labs and cookers!
This is a big hit out in the 909, apparently—

High five Bro! After the UFC we'll head over to Angels' Roadhouse and pick up some strippers!

But the crown jewel of the fledgling network, as evidenced by the trio of Best Drama Emmys and hipster cred, is
Mad Men!
Have ya seen this?

Oh, it’s set in the 1960’s Madison Avenue scene, and takes us into the workday and lifestyle of them ring a ding times.
But don’t go writing this show off as another boring day at Darrin Stevens’ office, brother!
Nah, now we finally get to see what happened at the ol agency behind closed doors!

Don't argue with me, you fuckin dinosaur! Let's finish the bottle and go bone the new secretary!

Drinkin, smokin, skirt chasing—–Goddamn, what a life they had!!!
Now we know what Ward Cleaver was doing all day, and why he was so goofy when he got home each evening!

Gee Pop...maybe you'd better take a bath before Mom gets home....your cock is smellin up the whole house!

This show makes us want to build a time machine.
A world where the drinkin starts at 10 am and the women are supposed to shaddap and keep the glasses filled?
Count us in!

See, in this sitcom, we follow the boozy path of Don Draper…..ooh, dreamy!

You're more like me!

But things aren’t all sugar cubes in Don’s world—see, he’s deep, man! He likes to frown a lot, even while he’s loaded off his ass and screwing his latest victim from the typing pool.

Christ, lighten up already!
I mean, what’s he gotta be pissed off all the time?

......and this is the goofiest photo in his Facebook album!

Thank god he ditched his kooky wife Betty, played by January Jones, last season—- that bitch is a bundle of nerves just waiting for the boys at Pfizer to come up with Xanax…..
And he’s thankfully got a few years before his mess of a daughter starts dropping acid and fucking Black Panthers, so why not live it up a little goddamnit?

What say we stay overnight in the city, Donny? Looks like a barrel of laughs back home!

Besides the precious looks at postwar advertising, we have the usual intertwined storylines goin on here: Don wants his Mommy, Don hates the latest campaign, Don fucks the cleaning lady and then destroys her with his icy hungover demeanor blah blah blah………….
There’s even been a few location shots out to California to shake things up. It’s mainly to get Don out of his tie and show him driving around L.A. in a convertible, but it’s quite charming, really.

Apparently, back then all of Los Angeles looked like modern-day Signal Hill, and the Manson family was innocently spreading syphilis amongst themselves at Spahn Ranch…good times!

But it’s back to the office that we all wanna get to, mainly just to watch Joan walk around the office and flutter those eyelashes—Ha cha cha!

This is a role that must’ve been written by the boys around the conference table, each recalling their nights dry humping the living room floor while watching Ginger skank around Gilligan’s Island!

And this is all we had before internet porn, you spoiled bastards!

And the styles! Oh baby, if we could only pull off the slim-fit grey suits and fedoras we’d be happy bubs!

— –oh sure, we like to play dress up now and then too, but we can’t quite pull off that ironic, hey, we may be careless punkers but we’re still wearing a tie look.

No, we tie the Windsor knots only to end up looking less like Billie Joe and more like insurance salesmen or Jehovah’s Witnesses!

Men of action, ready to take stage.....
Excuse us Ma'am, may we come in and discuss the good word of the Lord? Hello?!

And with the drinking and womanizing, there is smoking—-oh yes, smoking, smoking, motherfuckin SMOKING!
Christ, the world must’ve smelled like an Indian casino back then, the way these clowns light up whenever they have a tick.

Filling in this Dave Brubeck album cover, ya got all the usual stereotypes of the day:

Kiss ass frat boy Pete Campbell, repressed gay Greek Sal, some guy who looks like a member of Deathcab for Cutie who mopes around the office all day—they’re all here!

...we're headlining Coachella this year....hope I don't cry!

But our favorite here at the CH3 offices has to be wild man Roger Sterling!

Thank you! Finally, someone's havin a good time around here!

Listen, this guy really knows how to swing, and excuse me? was I hallucinating or did I tune in to catch ol Rog in blackface last season??!
Wadda nut!

...and becomes an immediate favorite with the fellas on Main St Huntington!

So what’ve we learned here today, hmm?
That the advertising business is run by a bunch of ruthless alcoholics who will soon become the muttering old men at the end of the bar? Shocking!

Listen, I know it’s only a TV show, but by God, wouldn’t it be great?
I mean, to have a gig where you start drinking at mid day, and hang the around the office with a bunch of other immature men-children.
Your only responsibility between a three martini lunch and Happy Hour to write a bunch of meaningless crap………oh. Right.

Never mind.

*Watch Mad Men on the AMC television network, Sundays 8pm PST

The CH3 Eye on TV: LOST

So there we are, Monday evening at the stoic CH3 training camp located high in the San Bernardino mountains. A few shows coming up ya know, so gotta get back in shape in the usual manner–namely, doing the Greased Lightning number from Grease in front of the full length mirror. Hey-works for us!!

Uh huh Uh huh...I Got a Gun!

Well Sir, Alf suddenly stopped the music and refused to practice any longer. Seems his program was ready to start: that’s right– LOST!

Have you heard of this show? Yeah, me either…..

But in a nutshell it’s about a fine group of people that crash their helicopter on a deserted island. Sounds boring, I know. But get this–these people have back stories, ya dig? So each week we get to fill in their past lives, while following them through the jungle.
Now, I’m no Gene Shalit, but I predict ABC has a winner on their hands with this sitcom!!!!

And then to make things even nuttier, these people start to encounter other people on the island, even settlements and all sorts of technological marvels–and time travel! Oh yes-Did I mention the time travel??

Hold me, I’m starting to hear the circus music in my head again!!!!

Wha wha? But how did they...But I thought that..? Oh I just can't keep up with this show!!

But forget the setting and plot twists, brother! As with all good shows it’s all about the characters, and did they put together a stellar cast!!

L-R: Adam Sandler, the retard asian guy from Sopranos, Kate Beckinsale, Apu and Rivers Cuomo....

…and what? At the 48:05:001 minute mark of last night’s episode, Look at the sweet stunt casting/product placement!

Anchoring the cast is the always fine Terry O’Quinn, doing his best with the goopy dialogue…. I off the show now or not? I got an offer from CSI Chino Hills on the table ya know!

And whoo, does he play the crotchety/lovable old guy character to the hilt, people!
What, Gerald McRaney wasn’t available?
Still waiting by the phone for his John From Cincinatti walk on?, yeah-but we got to say cocksucker on HBO!

Much has been made about the diversity of the cast, and we here at the CH3 Asian Anti-Defamation chapter heartily applaud ABC’s use of not one, but three coolies in this show!!

My car? A 2002 Honda Civic with 98 grand in modifications...why do you ask?

Hear hear! It’s about time we’re starting to see some finely drawn Asian characters on the major networks! We’ve come a long way, baby!

Oh, you got some Arab terrorist in there too, as well as the 2 hunky crackers that look like part of Keith Urban’s backing band….but give me my glasses, will ya, because I didn’t see any brothas representin’ on the island.

In fact, the only black charcter was a cloud of smoke!!

And wait a minute….this all-powerful spirit, embodied in cloud, where have I seen this stunt before?
Apparently they just couldn’t get enough of this plot device, last seen in the 1994 miniseries The Stand….

...m-o-o-n spells ripoff!

But our favorite character has to be the jolly jolly fat man, Hurley, played by Jorge Garcia….
Talk about casting to your audience! This guy looks like he’s been to ComicCon, yes??

According to Wikipedia, he played bass in Poison Idea 1998-2001....

Anyway, in episode one, we catch up with our heroes after some bomb went off down in the well, and there’s apparently some confusion as the time has changed, people are missing, there’s two of other people, a little boy wishes people into the cornfield….

OK, I'll explain it one last time...we're here, but we're also there, but we're not really....ah fuck it, let's have a drink!

Sheesh, enough with the plot twists, already! It’s no wonder Jersey Shore is kicking their ass in the ratings! Who wants to work this hard watching TV???

We get drunk, we fight, we hook up...what's the big whoop?

Jesus Christ, it’s as like trying to follow the Adolescents’ history, and at least they give us a goddamn map:

Look closely and you'll find Mike Love in there for a short time early 90's!

I guess anything goes when it comes to plot twists, am I right? In fact, we got the inside scoop on next week’s show, and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the new character that is introduced as he suddenly appears from the mysterious jungle…..

What yer hearing is the sound of a thousand fanboys cumming....

Watch Lost on the ABC televison network, 9pm Mondays

The CH3 Eye on TV: True Blood


We were all thrilled here at the CH3 entertainment offices when the advance copies of HBO’s True Blood Sunday Finale arrived via DHL. Oh sure, we’re usually more interested in the more cerebral offerings of subscription cable, and haven’t really been tuning into the the Big H since they totally screwed up with the Sopranos finale….

Really?  Journey?  Hey, thanks for the fuckin ear worm, Chase!
Really? Journey? Hey, thanks for the fuckin ear worm, Chase!

Hey sue us! This is scary good fun for the whole family.
See, in this sitcom, vampires are out in the real world and trying to get along with the rest of us! Kinda like Will and Grace, when you think about it….
But oh man, hilarious hijinks ensue when the locals start mixing with the vampires, people start getting killed, regular people start drinking vampire blood—whooo boy!

All they need is Don Knotts and Tim Conway as the local law and they’d be onto Television Gold!

...well if you didn't sneeze, I didn't sneeze...gaaaa!  L-L-let's get outta here!!
...well if you didn't sneeze, I didn't sneeze...gaaaa! L-L-let's get outta here!!

In this, the second season of True Blood, the sleepy redneck town of Bon Temps has been cursed by the evil Maenad, some kind of crazy beast that eats raw meat and gives everyone these real cool Marilyn Manson contacts so they can have non stop sex and parties.
Alf asks: where do I sign up??

The evil presence is played by some Dom bitch that was on thirty-something or a Summer’s Eve commercial, I know I’ve seen her somewhere before——but on here–evil!

Dionysius commands yu to stay morning fresh all day long!!!!
Dionysius commands you to stay morning fresh all day long!!!!

I’ll tell you what, this cougar looks like she’s having a grand time chewing on the scenery. In fact, I have to keep reminding myself that this is actually on broadcast television, the acting is so deliciously bad! They tell me Anna Paquin, who plays main character Sookie Stackhouse, actually won an Oscar when she was just a kid for the Piano! Lemmee guess–she didn’t try a Southern accent in that one, am I right?

Shoulda quit while you were ahead, kid!
Shoulda quit while you were ahead, kid!

Meanwhile-meanwhile!- our boy Keitel goes commando in that and Bad Lieutenant and gets zilch?!! I hereby turn in my Academy card– good day sir!

Nudity and crack smokin?  That's what we call acting!!!
Nudity and crack smokin? That's what we call acting!!!

Anyhoo, in an effort to save the town from turning into some Norwegian Black Metal festival, (though believe me, Brother-that would be an improvement over this hick hole!), the Vampires go rescue other Vampires and the hicks go rescue other hicks, all the while wondering “What are we gonna do, Bill?? What are we gonna DO?!?!”

Christ, I haven’t seen this much over the top emoting since the Dino and Lewis reunion on the ’76 MDA telethon…

Just hug me, ya fuckin greaseball-- Frank's watching!!
Just hug me, ya fuckin greaseball-- Frank's watching!!

Our girl Sookie is in love with Bill, a Civil War era vamp. But get this–Bill’s a good vampire!! He prefers not to drink Human blood any more, and tries to get all the vampires and humans to just get along, and gee, wouldn’t it be nice if……..snnnnore!

Listen, If I wanted to watch a blood sucking monster with a conscience I’d be watching Oprah *rimshot* zing-Hey0!!!


If some hot Vampire-Lesbo action ever broke out between Sookie and that one Ginger babe, you just know ol Wet Blanket Bill would put a stop to that!

Sookah!  Give her back her panties and come watch Huel Howser with me!
Sookah! Give her back her panties and come watch Huel Howser with me!

Sheesh–but don’t worry– it’s over on the other side of town where all the cool kids hang out, a Vampire nightclub called Fangtasia!!! FANG-tasia, do you get it?!

This is a seedy, yet oddly familiar nightclub where all sorts of otherwordly beasts gather to worship the night and drink exotic potions that make them lose their minds….

Mein Gott!!!  Back to Hell, wretched Beasts!!!
Mein Gott!!! Back to Hell, wretched Beasts!!!

This place is run by Erik—meow!! Now you’re talkin Vampire! This guy cheats, steals, kills–that’s how we like our Vampires, am I right?

Come to me, Children of the Night..I have some Cuervo Gold in Alex's office!!
Come to me, Children of the Night..I hid a bottle of Jager in Alex's office!!

Anyways, in the thrilling Sunday finale, the vampire bad asses team up with the local yokels and chase off the hot party broad. Booo!
But then, local folk Tara and her cousin Lafayette are gruesomely killed, when Tara’s Mom Lettie Mae comes to embody the Dark Lord and rips out their hearts-Shocking!

Now what tha fuck is HBO gonna do with us?  Put us with Larry David?
Now what tha fuck is HBO gonna do with us? Put us with Larry David?

*SPOILER ALERT* Don’t read the preceeding statement if you…oh, right.
Shit-sorry about that.