Emmy Gets Juicy:
The Juicy Cerebellum takes on the 52nd Annual Emmy Awards
Written by:  Alex Sandell

Another award show has come and gone.  Although it wasn't much better than this year's tragically bad Oscars (which I refused to write an update for, out of protest.  I'm sure it did a lot in way of changing the world.), it had enough going for it to cover the damn thing.  I ended up talking to a friend on the phone until 2 in the morning, and in that conversation we covered everything from politics to the tarantula sitting on my head.  I'd actually rather cover that talk, being that it ran about an hour LONGER than the three hour Emmy's, but went by about 3 times faster, and had a lot more substance.  Then again, Hollywood Award shows aren't about substance (outside of those teeny little ribbons the conscientious celebrities wear in violent protest over whatever cause is currently trendy), but rather style, and my phone call with Heather didn't have much style, even if we did talk about pornography, sexism, alcoholic Indians and the "Song of the South."  I guess you had to be there.  I'll be covering the Emmy's now . . .

It all began with a woman.  A nude woman with wings.  Her name is "Emmy."  As soon as I started becoming aroused over her thin, yet finely-toned, body, Garry Shandling came on and wrecked my bulge.  Admittedly, the guy is funny as hell, and The Larry Sanders Show was one of the best things put on television, but does he have to be so damn funny lookin'?  He always reminds me of a talking Shar-Pei.


Shar-Pei

Shandling

Garry started the show in high gear with a play on the overrated Survivor television series.  The last person on the island would get to host the Emmy's.  The only trouble?  Nobody wanted the job, and everyone kept voting each other off.  The contestants were Andy Richter, Craig Kilborn, Cheri Oteri, and Arsenio Hall.  Andy's deadpan delivery of the line, "I should have never left Conan" had me wishing, for about the three-millionth time, that he never did leave.  The other people also said stuff.

Shandling went from the Survivor skit into his well-worn self-deprecating humor, which ended up wearing a little thin, this time around.  I guess I shouldn't have been so quick to disregard the fortune I got in my cookie a few years ago which read, "one who expects perfection from a talking Shar-Pei is one whose expectations are less than perfect."  

The first award was given out by Chris Rock, immediately following Shandling's banter.  It was for Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Comedy Series.  Chris was pissed about the lack of diversity among the nominees.  It was 3 white girls, a slightly older white girl and Doris Roberts (an old white girl).  So it's an Aryan category, hey, Chris?  I guess you didn't notice that the Emmy itself happens to be gold.  Take that minority and shove it up your ass!  I mean, what's your problem?  If there weren't so many white people represented in sitcoms, they might actually be funny, and that wouldn't be good, would it?  Megan Mullally ended up taking home the trophy for her portrayal of Karen Walker, on Will and Grace.  I haven't seen the show, but I hear it's about gay people.  Gay people are funny.  Megan Mullally didn't seem too gay, and her saggy boobs were pouring out of her revealing dress.  It kind of made me horny and then it made me wonder why I was horny over saggy boobs pouring out of a gay woman's dress.  I decided to think about George W. Bush to get this disturbing conundrum out of my mind.

The next award was presented by Ray Ramano and some sexy chick named Patricia.  It was for Outstanding Directing For a Comedy Series.  Todd Holland won for the mediocre Malcolm in the Middle.  I guess he also won for directing The Larry Sanders Show a few years back.  Talk about your step down.  You take the work when you can get it, I suppose.  When Todd (we're on a first name basis) was giving his speech, he sort of flipped his Emmy statue up and I swear I saw a barcode stuck to the bottom.  I realize Emmy doesn't have the budget of Oscar, but I think they could have picked up the trophies at a place where they're not scanned into the register along with the Beef Jerky.  

The third award was given out by that girl that's in that one cult, I think her name is Jenna Elfman.  There might have been a guy with her, but I didn't bother looking, because I was afraid that if I stared too long, I would also surrender my free-thinking ability to the ghost of L. Ron Hubbard.   The award was for Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy Series.  Some guy from Will and Grace won it.  This had me wondering why there have been two women, in the last week, that promised to send me topless pictures for the next Juicy Gets Juicy update, and both of them gave Saturday as the deadline, and I still haven't seen any pictures.  Something just seems wrong about that.  

Lucy Liu, whose butt is starting to curve in a way that would make Jennifer Lopez jealous, gave out the next award.  Well, she didn't really give out the award, she just said that Bruce Willis and a girl I never heard of named "Get Smart," won it at some other ceremony that wasn't really the Emmy's, even though it was the Emmy's.  I didn't care.  I was hoping the Emmy's would turn into Lucy Liu Butt Night, and I could masturbate a lot.  Yet, my dreams of Asian buttocks and masturbation did not come true, and Lucy left the stage and I came back down to earth.  Emmy would be a better lay, anyway.  I mean, she has WINGS.  How many of you have had sex with a person with wings?  I can only imagine it would be wonderful.  "Take me away from this world, Emmy," I would say, and she would pick me up in her slender, yet athletic, arms and fly me into the sky where she would wrap herself around me and press my penis into her soft, golden vagina.  Then I would orgasm inside of her and when my semen fell back out of her soaring body it would drop down to the earth, and hit some poor sap in the head.  "A bird shit on my damn head again," the poor sap would scream, never knowing it was my mortal semen dripped from the cunt of a God.

The sixth award of the evening pissed me off.  Not even a flying sex fantasy could calm me.  The Outstanding Writing in a Comedy Series was the ONLY category where the EXCELLENT, OVERLOOKED, HYSTERICAL and TRUE-TO-LIFE television series Freaks and Geeks received a nomination.  I prayed it would win.  I threw a few drops of the canned lemonade (contains no real juice) I was drinking onto my forehead in an attempt to fool the Lord into thinking I was religious, and it was Holy Water.  Yet, like most freaks that don't attend church as much as they should (every Christmas), this geek's prayers weren't answered, and the award went to Linwood Boomer for the inferior Malcolm in the Middle (a show I still resent for knocking Futurama out of its rightful timeslot).  I thought of kicking something, but figured Linwood Boomer wouldn't feel it, anyway.  Not to mention, I felt sort of sorry for Linwood, because he was really boring and I kept thinking other comedy writers probably make fun of him for being about as entertaining as that one stock guy my dad watches on public television.  "At least I'm not like that one stock guy Alex's dad watches on public television," they yell to him, in a belittling manner, as he tries to hide his tears.  Plus, his name is "Linwood Boomer."   

Jamie Foxx presented the Outstanding Writer for a Comedy, Music or Variety Program and it went to the cross-dressing comedian, Eddie Izzard, for his Dress to Kill special, which was one of the funniest stand-up comedy performances I've ever seen.  One of Eddie's co-nominees, Chris Rock, looked really pissed that he didn't get it.  "Slapped in da face by da man," he was thinking.  His Bigger and Blacker special was extremely funny, too, but I have to agree with the voters and say that Eddie's was better, if not quite as black.  Did that make me sound like a homo?  I'm hoping it did, so I can get a gig on that Will and Grace show.  I haven't seen it, but I hear it's a sitcom about fags.

The smarmy Bill Maher gave away the Outstanding Directing for a Variety or Music Program award to Louis J. Horvitz, who was actually directing the Emmy's, as the award was given.  He received the award for the 72nd Annual Academy Awards, which he also directed.  Pretty much all the world thought the 72nd Annual Academy Awards were a sloppy disgrace, but I guess Horvitz must get on his knees for just the right people.  Either that or he has a nice ass.  

Editor's Note:  It is now 5:26 AM, and I'm really getting tired, and there were a lot of awards, and I have only went through 1 page of my notes, and have 5 more to go, so I am going to do a LOT of editing, and am cutting out the rest of the boring awards, and am only going to list the "important" ones, from here on out.  Sorry to any of you that like awards that are boring.

The Outstanding Writing for a Drama Series category really surprised me by including Buffy the Vampire Slayer's Joss Whedon.  First of all, Buffy is kind of a comedy and, second of all, well . . . it's Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  As much as I wanted Joss to take home the prize, I knew he didn't quite deserve it, because The West Wing guy is better.  Sure enough, it went to The West Wing guy (Aaron Sorkin), and I was all happy, because The West Wing was not only last year's best show, it was the best show in years.  

The West Wing took home the Outstanding Directing for a Drama Series award, also.  Thomas Schlamme had the honor of directing the episode, and his last name made me hungry, so I microwaved a burrito.  It was good.

There was a song break at this point, and a guy sang a bunch of stuff about different shows.  It was actually remotely entertaining; sort of like this update, only with background vocals.  The best part was Jennifer Anniston obviously getting pissed off when the guy singing criticized Friends for its all white cast.  I hate that stupid fucking show, anyway, and Jennifer Aniston can pop her implants and go back to being a waitress, for all I care.  

Suddenly a loud beep interrupts the proceedings and I discover that I am in a "Severe Thunderstorm Watch."  A map of Minnesota, with green stuff representing "danger" areas covers half the screen.  Words roll at the bottom saying that the green stuff is representative of storms.  I didn't think a simple map needed a ticker-tape instruction manual.  I get sort of annoyed and wonder why storms only happen when I'm watching TV.  I also wonder why they would be green.  I look outside, but there is no green to be found.  

A few more of the boring awards go by, and then Julianna Margulies, looking like a corpse that abuses heroin, comes out and presents an award to a lot of dead people I never heard of.  I don't know if they got an award, per say, but they were definitely dead.  I think people should hold their applause for the deceased, because they are supposedly resting in peace, and we'd have a major catastrophe on our hands if we accidentally woke them up with too damn much cheering for the dearly departed.  

During the commercial break I officially decide that Dr. Ruth scares me more than any other human.  I am confident with my decision, and come to terms with the fact that, as much as I want to move, I am stuck living on the same planet that she is.

I take my decision back when Cher gets on stage to present the award for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy Series.  This Cher is one freaky chick.  Isn't she like 84 years old?  There's not a wrinkle on her face.  Patricia Heaton, a far less frightening human, takes the award for her work on Everybody Loves Raymond.  I decide she's not as sexy as I initially thought she was, but I would still probably do her.

Michael J. Fox wins Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy Series.  He gets a standing ovation.  He's the only one, other than Jack Lemmon, who won one of the "boring" awards that I skipped, to get the audience on its feet.  Call me crazy, but I bet if Michael J. Fox wasn't fighting a deadly disorder like Parkinson's disease, people wouldn't be standing for his shaky acceptance speech.  My grandpa had Parkinson's.  It sucked.  My grandma has it now.  It still sucks.  I bet I'll get it.  That will suck.  If I get a standing ovation for it, I might be able to handle it, but it would still suck when everyone else sits back down, and I freeze, and have to remain standing.  

Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series goes to Sela Ward for Once and Again.  This is a show that I've never seen, but she was so genuinely surprised by her win, as was the audience, who all expected it to go to Edie Falco or Amy Brenneman, that I'm probably glad she got it, just for the shock value.  

A loud beep once again interrupts the proceedings and I am told that the "Severe Thunderstorm Watch" has now been upgraded to a "Warning."  I'm sure glad they warned me.  The loud thunder cracks and incessant lightning would have never given it away.

That anorexic chick from Ally McBeal presents the Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series award to James Gandolfini, of Sopranos fame.  I would tell you whether or not he deserved it, but I can't afford cable, and therefore I have no way of knowing.  Dennis Franz, who has already won four Emmy's (the slut) for NYPD Blue put in another damn fine performance when he cursed God out in a hospital church during last season's final NYPD episode.  I don't know if that means he should have won, or not, because, as I said, I don't have cable.  If you would like me to have cable, so I can write better updates, please send your contributions to:

"I Want Better Emmy Coverage! Get Alex Cable Quick!"
C/O Alex Sandell
PO Box 331
Alexandria, MN 56308

During his speech James claimed that Emmy has a thing for "slightly overweight bald guys."  Referring to himself and Dennis Franz.  Upon hearing of Emmy's fetish, I grew ten times more confident in myself, and knew I had an in with my flying fantasy fuck girl.  Oh, Emmy, can you hear me crying out for you?  Please, come steal me away from this mundane life and let me live under your wings, and massage your flat, yet finely defined, breasts and suck on your perky nipples. 

Will and Grace takes home another award for Outstanding Comedy Series.  One of the gay guys said that this is an "acceptance" speech in more ways than one.  I haven't seen the show, so I don't know how fairly it portrays gays, but I do have to say that it would be cool if a stupid sitcom could actually open a few people's eyes and make them realize that homosexuals aren't their enemies, unless they have an enemy that's homosexual, in which case I guess a homosexual would be their enemy, but that wouldn't mean that every gay guy is evil.  Gay guys aren't evil.  They are gay.  In the old days, everybody used to be gay.  At least all the singers.  They would sing about how gay they were.  "I'm so gay, since I met you.  I'm so gay, no longer blue."  It was funny.

The last award of the night goes to the show which most deserves it, The West Wing.  It wins Outstanding Drama Series and the night is done.  Neat.

How was the show, over-all?  It was alright.  Garry "Shar-Pei" Shandling DID disappoint.  They started running late, so for the last half hour, no one could read their idiotic jokes, and that actually made for a more bland, more impersonal show.  No one got to give a long acceptance speech, because the band kept rudely playing them off the stage . . . and Cher was there.  I guess, over-all, it was kind of a rip.  If I get a date with Emmy, I may change my tune.  I'll keep you informed . . .

This update took me a LOT longer to write than it will take you to write your email commenting on it.  Send me your feedback!  No one will do it for you.

2000 Alex Sandell [All Rights Reserved].  If you copy this, without my permission, you better double check that "bird-shit" on your head.

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