In Buffy News, Willow Gives Birth

Flashback: she was vibrant and young...and wore less clothes.

We officially have a Buffy baby. Your favorite red headed, flute-toting, spell-casting, kindergarten teacher, Alyson Hannigan, gave birth to a baby girl, People magazine reports. Hannigan apparently gave birth to baby Satyana a week ago yesterday. The child is the first for Alyson and husband Alexis Denisof, you know, the British guy on Angel and NOT the British guy on Buffy.

I have nothing too sarcastic to say about this birth except maybe that I was the one who impregnated her during a drunken three-way that included her How I Met Your Mother cast mate Cobie Smulders, who I also knocked-up in the process. (ORIGINAL MENTION OF THE "KNOCKING UP") That poor bastard hubby of hers will take up the fathering role from here on. Thanks, dude! And my work here is done.

Cooter Scooter: The All-TV Reviews Revue

My God can so kick your god's ass anyday.

Oh, to be young and single and drunk and slightly bored and slightly neurotic and slightly insulting and slightly insane and much more insane and much more idiotic and slightly horny. Slightly horny? Well, if we're telling the truth... I say all these things because that's how the Sunday night became for me and my running mates of rogues about the crazy wind factory of a valley bowl...bowel...correct, bowl.

Sunday night was Family Guy night and it was fitting to have the silent Desert air broken with this sound made by me and my rapscallions. Just click on it. No other words.

Anyways, after review of my DVR of Sunday night's ep Not All Dogs Go to Heaven, I learned that Family Guy still continues to bat below .500 in my book. It was refreshing to see the Star Trek: TNG (that's The Next Generation for those not in the know. God!) cast including Wil WHeaton. (Cool WHip. WHite Stripes. WHoopi Goldberg. A WHile. Stress the 'H.' See how big a douchebag you become.) AnywHays, the ep had Meg with the mumps, Brian officially going atheist, God on a scooter hover craft or some shit, and Rob Lowe and Adam West being "big movie stars." Who knew the whole universe came from their night lamp. Hm.

No, this is not NPH's alleged interracial gay porn, although you wouldn't know that with this shot. Get him big black man!

I caught How I Met Your Mother on its regular time Monday night. I'm glad it ends up number one every Monday night with the 18-34 crowd, because, believe me, advertisers are so dumb to think that's the segment of America that controls spending. Soon, everyone will know that it's actually 8-15 year old kids with Benjamin Button disease controlling the spending. The hell with you. It's Monday, I can write crappy if I want to.

Anyways, the ep called Murtaugh covers Ted's list of things he and Barney are too old for. The list was named after the fabulous Sgt. Roger Murtaugh character played by Danny Glover in the Lethal Weapon movies (still a classic no matter what you think of the Jew-hating Australian in the movie). He would always say "I'm getting too old for this [stuff]." (Stupid TV-14 television show said "stuff." "Shit" never hurt anybody.) Thus, you have the Murtaugh list.

We get Barney trying to challenge Ted on competing lists -- Barney completes the Murtaugh list and Ted completes the anti(?)-Murtaugh list, which is basically everything he's too young to do. For some reason, and I'm being serious here, I believe in the Murtaugh list. Despite my age and despite my calling in life at this moment, which is wanking behind a laptop/computer desk for 8-12 hours a day, I have become more unable to do some of the things I could have done back in the day, mostly involving food. So leave space on my Murtaugh list for eating two whole pizzas and drinking two 2-liters of Coke in one sitting. Also leave some space for "sharting," although who's not too old for shitting in their pants? I think I'm the only one. Shut up, it's Monday, I can write crappy if I want to.

Thus, I mercifully end this blog entry. You may begin losing faith in me.

My God can still kick your god's ass though. Rasberries, bitch!

Dammit, Trudy! What About the Pineapple?!

Winnie Cooper, is that you?

In the "Like You Had a Chance" department, the young lady who captivated a whole national television audience, more notably the stereotypical pimpled, eyeglass wearing nerd segment (myself, included), is fresh off the market. Asylum reports actress Danica McKellar (aka Winnie Cooper from the Wonder Years) over the weekend wed her composer boyfriend of eight years Mike Verta (aka that F'n lucky bastard. He sho' ain't Kevin F'n Arnold.)

McKellar is one of those chicks that you wondered in the '90s how she is in bed or what she looked like naked. Then again, I still have that thought for most TV actresses today. Stuff Magazine almost took care of the "looked like naked" part of the equation. Also, believe it or not, she's a smart cookie. She helped put together some mathematical theorem shit...I really could care less.

Anyways, she was in my favorite all-time episode of one of my favorites How I Met Your Mother. The ep is called The Pineapple Incident. She reprised her HIMYM role for episode Third Wheel where the whole episode was a teaser for main character Ted to engage in a three-way with her and Busy Phillips. I've bored you long enough. Go look at those DMcK pics, if you're not like faggy and such.

Cooter Scooter: HIMYM, Kelly Clarkson, and being "Tracy Morgan" Crazy

The Cooter Scooter is basically a roundup of things going on that I've seen, saw, or screwed (*rolling eyes*)and my take on them. Actually, I just regurgitate whatever is on my mind before I forget it and apparently it's always about entertainment. My deficit on attention is in much disorder.

One of these people forgot to wear pants. Hint: It's the dude who showed his dangle in that Sarah Marshall movie.

Last night's How I Met Your Mother could be described in two words: night shirts. You know, those old timey pajama onesies with a open, skirted bottom and not the full body suit onesies you were when you wet the bed at 4...or 16 years old.

In Monday's episode titled The Front Porch, the gang stays up late to catch Robin anchoring the early, early, early morning news at 3:30 a.m. (Shit like that takes me back in the day when I was producing early morning news for the early rising geriatrics of INSERT GOD FORSAKEN CITY NAME HERE.) During the airing of Robin's newscast, which they ignorantly muted, Ted, the man who will one day be Bob Saget's voice in 2025, finds out that his friend of dozens of years Lily, played by a very pregnant Alyson Hannigan, has been sabotaging his past relationships for breakup, including his with Robin, who is played by the also very pregnant Cobie Smulders. (I told Alyson and Cobie that I'm bare riding it that night. They knew the risk. I "Dr. Manhattan" it with mine, homey. Best believe, I Superman dem hoes, ya dig?) All in this process, the gang misses the follies of Robin extinguishing a chef on fire, performing CPR on a dying weatherman, and delivering a pregnant morning show guest. All of this was an after thought to the true non-important important thing of the ep: you guessed it, night shirts. You know, like Peter Pan status shits.

Bottom line, I haven't really liked this season of HIMYM. The show has genuinely shied away from the mood of Ted's search of the entitled "mother" in the first season and parts of the third season. Of course, you can't but love how Neil Patrick Harris has performed throughout the run of this show. Not bad for a gay guy playing machismo-ly straight. Other than that, I gotta stop impregnating actresses from shows I like. (Sarah Chalke, I'm looking at you.)

Yes, we can agree that Kelly Clarkson let herself go as of late. You can't deny that when she wears brown pants, it makes her legs look like those on a large race horse. But the bitch can sing. I mean, like, sang, son! Clarkson showed why she is a star today rather than reality show winner of yesteryear on this past weekend's Saturday Night Live hosted by Tracy Morgan. Clarkson came out there and said, "Sure, my diet currently consists of two full grown babies placed in between a sesame-seed bun twice a day. But hear me hit this high note with ferocity and unabashed ruthlessness." OK, maybe she didn't say that. But the bitch can sang, ya dig?

And speaking of Tracy Morgan, it was refreshing to see the black Will Ferrell flopping (the good kind) on his return to SNL. Yes, we were treated to Morgan classics like Brian Fellow's Safari Planet and Astronaut Jones. I mention him, though, because I made a remark to my friend at lunch the other day about my level of craziness.

"Look, I'm a crazy muthafucka," I said. "I am a crazy muthafucka. Not Mike Tyson crazy. More like Tracy Morgan crazy."

If you don't know what that kind of crazy is, watch this: