Rain Made a Clown of Me

Rain made a clown out of me. Not one of those funny clowns, if there ever was such a thing, but rather a sad-faced, hobo clown who forever looks as if his coffee is cold, his zipper won’t stay up, and his dog peed on him.

Oh, I was a pathetic sight.

Being a complete idiot, I chose the rainiest day in three decades to buy a new remote control. In my head it all works out. It was raining, which meant I was mostly stuck indoors and my remote control worked about as well as a noodle works as a drill bit. I thought if I braved the weather for 20 minutes, I’d have three days of couch and remote-control bliss. Let it rain, I thought. I’ll be snug, and the TV will leap about at my commanding touch.

The extent of my rain gear consists of tennis shoes and a sweatshirt. This is what I’d donned to battle the elements. Thirteen seconds after I’d left my apartment, the sweatshirt was reduced to a sopping rag across my shoulders, and the tennis shoes were about as dry and warm as tubs of yogurt. I was 20 feet from my house, shivering like a chihuahua in the vegetable drawer of your refrigerator, and swathed in heavy, drenched cotton.

As a means of compensation for my crippling stupidity, I possess bullheaded determination; I forged on. I made it to the hardware store and a nice clerk followed me around with a mop, soaking up my footprints and directing me to the universal remote control shelf.

As I fished out my wallet at the counter, the clerk asked me if I wanted to buy an umbrella. I nearly kissed him. He pointed to the selection of umbrellas: pink with teddy bears and hearts or blue with little yellow flowers. Opting for the most masculine choice (and I’m really bending the definition of “masculine” in this instance), I took down a blue one with the little flowers.

With the universal remote box tucked under my arm and my new umbrella popped out over my head, I once again braved the elements. At the corner, a gust of wind turned my umbrella into a flowery blue joke — all inside out, bent and irreparable. I stepped from the curb, sank both feet into a puddle up to my ankles, and just stood there, embracing pitiful.

This week we’re exploring things I’ve found behind my couch and corresponding shows.

Thursday, December 25
Walt Disney World Christmas Day Parade
ABC 9:00 a.m.

I’m not kidding — there was a mouse under here. This reminds me that I need to get to work on a project I’m going to build and drop off at Disneyland. Let’s see... First, I’ll need planks of plywood, truck coil springs, a bed frame, and a big damn wheel of cheese. Oh, what a big beautiful “snap!” that’ll make. You can’t resist the cheese, can you, Devil Mouse?

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
CBS 9:00 p.m.

Now here’s a mystery. There’s enough food behind this couch to feed a village of mice for three weeks, but how the hell did it all get here? I’ve never bought Wheat Thins ever, and this is obviously half of one. Why is there a slab of lunch meat? That’s a serious question. What events led up to the unfortunate placement of an entire slice of ham behind my couch? This is a sad day for couches and sadder still for pork products.

Friday, December 26
Electronics Connection
HSN 9:00 p.m.

Let’s see... Here’s a DC adapter to something electronic. I’m standing here wondering what small piece of equipment I own that the next time I pick up will be completely out of battery power. Great. I’m the owner of an electronic reverse booby trap, ready to unleash its disappointment and inactivity.

Saturday, December 27
Dinosaur King
CW 10:00 a.m.

Sweet! A tiny plastic Tyrannosaurus! Well, actually, now that I’ve found it I’m a little displeased. I mean, it couldn’t even scare off a mouse. That’s pathetic. This Tyrannosaurus is underperforming in every possible manner. Your teeth and claws clearly underwhelm me, the mouse, and everyone else involved, sir. I’m not mad, just embarrassed for you.

Stargate Atlantis
KUSI 9:00 p.m.

Ah, yes. I’ve found a pill. Is it aspirin or ecstasy? Is it Vicodin or herpes medicine? Will my heartburn temporarily subside, or will I travel through time, present Abraham Lincoln with a Mexican wrestler mask, and then wake up eating birthday candles in a tub full of mashed potatoes? Only one way to find out. LET’S START THE SHOW!

Sunday, December 28
USA 9:00 p.m.

Son of a...it was herpes medicine. I looked it up online. Oh, well, at least my mouth will be free of open sores for the next couple days; but, damn, I really wanted to take the rainbow bus to the corner of Unicorn Street and Weird Avenue.

Monday, December 29
Desperate Housewives
KUSI 9:00 p.m.

Here’s a dismal little discovery: a matchbook with a phone number for “party line” personals. Who is so sad that they would call voice mailboxes to arrange for a date without ever seeing the person? That’s like driving blindfolded to the first place you crash into and demanding to be fed whatever’s in the closest cupboard. Peas? Sure. Tiny hotdogs? I’ll take ’em. Cat food? Well, I experimented with it in college, so, yes.

Tuesday, December 30
CW 8:00 p.m.

Whoa! There’s a spider. I’m gonna be tough and manly and smack it with my flip-flop. I only hope it didn’t develop super strength on a diet of forgotten ham and herpes meds. Wait. Now I’m just being silly. That would never promote muscular development. I mean, really, look at Tori Spelling.

Wednesday, December 31
Dick Clark’s Primetime New Year’s Rockin’ Eve with Ryan Seacrest
ABC 10:00 p.m.

Dust is about half human skin cells. Let’s be reasonable. Ryan Seacrest is no Dick Clark, and ol’ Dick won’t be around forever. We better start collecting all of our dust in preparation to energize it with Dick Clark’s essence — cloning him so we won’t have to watch Seacrest. Down with Seacrest! Up with skin-cell Clark!

Thursday, January 1, 2009
Smoking Gun Presents: World’s Dumbest
Tru 9:00 p.m.

An inordinate amount of fuzz exists behind this couch. There’s more fuzz back here than I have clothes. I could easily double my wardrobe if I ever figure out how to sew this stuff. Because I don’t have a tiny sewing machine but I do have glue, maybe I’ll just glue it together and make the world’s ugliest rabbit. Too bad Christmas is over; handmade gifts really are the best.

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Your frilly, flowery blue umbrella is adorable...and you need a Snuggie.

Tsk, tsk, tsk... Looks like the Tyrannosaurus and the mouse were corroborating all throughout the intoxicated hours of couch feeding. Mr. Mouse quietly stashing away the bits and pieces of food that fell over from the couch, while his partner Tyranno was on the look out keeping a very watchful eye plotting their next coordinates. You see it was a very successful operation until......

CONSPIRACY! I damn well knew it.

You're getting a snuggie for your New Year's present, Jennifer.

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