Tuesday, June 9, 2009
6:52 A.M. Can't sleep. Angry with the universe, and rightfully so. After all, I can't sleep. This is one of the seven reasons you're allowed to be angry with the universe (email me if you'd like the full list). But anyway, instead of tossing and turning (an expression I've never actually used), I decided to do something with my day. I was going to be productive!
And productive I was.
You can say all the horrible shit you want about America, but let's face it: It's more than a little comforting to know that Saved By The Bell will be showing on TBS between the hours of 7:00 and 9:00 A.M. for the rest of eternity.
So, yeah, it was annoying to be awake before noon, but I was going to kick my day off with four episodes of Zack pranking Mr. Belding. Or four episodes of Zack convincing Screech to do something he shouldn't. Or four episodes of Mark-Paul Gosselaar pretending to be attracted to the creature who played Tori. Or four episodes of whatever. You get my point. It didn't match sleeping 'til noon, but it's probably the closest alternative that doesn't include the words "unprotected" and "intercourse."
Oh yeah, I consumed baked goods for this occasion. Baked goods were most definitely consumed.
Being that I was wide awake, I decided to have myself a little party. I paused my television before the 7:00 episode started and drove four minutes up the street to Dunkin' Donuts, where I hand selected two blueberry muffins, a banana muffin and a chocolate chip muffin (i.e., the gayest order imaginable). The woman absorbing my demands was shockingly Caucasian, and she coughed in her hand as she placed my treats in the rectangular orange and white box. White people are so rude.
Disease-ridden treats in hand, my decent little morning was set.
I breezed through the 7:00 and 7:30 episodes -- both of which I'd seen a couple hundred times -- before the 8:00 episode, "1-900-CRUSHED," drastically altered the course of my day.
Less than two minutes into the opening scene Kelly's little sister, Nicki, makes her lone series appearance. She was wearing a baseball cap, yet somehow it was flattering. And when she appeared sans cap in her next scene, my heart melted. I always thought the black chick (who is sometimes known as Lark Voorhies) was the hottest thing in Saved By The Bell history, and now she's just a silver medalist.
Congratulations, Kelly's little sister!
There's only one problem: The person I'm in love with is 14-years-old. I checked. Her name is Laura Mooney. She was born in 1976, and the SBTB episode on my television screen was filmed in 1990. Mathematics!
But is this really a problem? I was ten in 1990. Ten! She was way out of my league then. Hell, I didn't even have a league in 1990. I was ten. I didn't know what girls were. I was too busy stealing bottle rockets from my brother and shooting them at the dog across the street.
Anyway, what's the rule on this sort of thing? Am I allowed to watch a television program from my childhood and find underage girls attractive? I say YES, if only because I'm guilty in this situation -- and because Laura Mooney is now 33-years-old.
Somebody needs to come up with a few rules before I go insane (and/or Chris Hansen knocks on my door). I know you probably think I should come up with the rules, but my judgement is too clouded. I'm afraid my rules would be predictable:
1. Brad can look at whoever he wants.
2. Brad is never guilty.
3. Brad doesn't have to delete the episode in question from his DVR.
Seriously, though, I need you to determine if I'm a dirty old man, because I'm more than a little conflicted. But before deciding if I'm the ultimate creep or not, I implore you to watch a chunk of the "1-900-CRUSHED" episode that's kept me awake for hours. Perhaps you will, as the kids say, feel me. Our friend Laura Mooney visits us at the 2:20 mark:
-Brad Spieser (Brad@TwinKilling.com)
Posted by Twin Killing dot Com at 10:14 AM