Comic Relief: It's No Joke. No, Really.

I've been ripping all my CD's into iTunes (again!! Damn those hard drive crashes) and I was all set to write this post about how old and dated my collection is. But I remembered about an hour ago that Laid Off Dad already did it. I guess that aspiring to emulate such fabulous writing ain't so bad, but something else has taken the place of my lameness in my attentions.

I'm sitting here, right now, watching Comic Relief, and it's painful in so many ways for me.

1) I've had 2 glasses of wine, so every one of the "human interest" clips makes me want to cry, join a Habitat project in New Orleans, sell my house and send the proceeds to the 1-800 number they've been flashing on the screen.

2) The improv by Billy, Whoopi and Robin is so far rather stilted and contrived. I was so excited when I saw all the ads on TBS about the show. The hype, the expectations, the precedents set...I'm reminded of the lead-up to(and the total let-down of) Episode I.

3) The first half dozen acts or so have been so freaking politicized. I mean, I am seriously. Really Truly. Honestly. NOT a Bush administration fan. But there's more in the world that's funny or relevant than the government. I want to go back and watch all the old Comic Relief shows and see what they did before that was so wonderful and wonder why they don't do that anymore?

4) What is up with all the people saying "shit" on network television? Yes, it's TBS and not CBS, but still!

5) Vonage donates $50,000 and gets to be onstage and announce it and give out one of those big Publishers Clearing House sized checks? Jesus H. Christ on a popsicle stick. They probably have some kind of gazillion dollar profit margin and all they can pull out of their asses is fifty grand?!?

I should so not blog live. Or drunk.