The Charlie Rose Show
I was up the other night watching a re-run of Charlie Rose, and he completely made me loose me REM sleep. He’s always got some guy on pushing a book on how everything going to the burning place, or how they’re going to pass a law, how everyone with a lip ring is going to get shipped to China. Suddenly, you’re depressed, thinking, we’re all going to die and don’t drink the water, there’s anthrax in my bagel - and bam, there goes your REM sleep. And even if they try to have somebody funny like Mel Brookes, you just think to yourself, what a minute here, Mel Brookes is never on Charlie Rose, and if he is on, he’s talking about Nazi’s, and then you go to bed dreaming about Nazi’s and they all look like Nathan Lane, and then you’re creeped out for days.
The next morning, which was yesterday morning, I was reflecting on the man that was on, and he was talking about Palm trees and carrots. It was odd, the palm tree talk was casual, but buddy, you lost me at carrot, which was the first draft of ‘you had me at hello’. The man was very convincing of stupid things. Like palm trees are dangerous when around toddlers. I swear, there is nothing in the world he was better at than getting someone to agree to something that in any other universe they would never consider. I’m still convinced that he had something with Lily Tomlin doing that movie with John Travolta. His whole audience was a series of fascinating characters. It was like the grand opening of a head-shot. Confusing, perplexed, bewildered, mystified_ a thesaraus of emotions. I’ve vowed that I would never watch Charlie Rose ever again. It was my 2nd time watching it, and my last time. It made me lose my REM sleep, and it gave me a head-ache. I wouldn’t be suprised if there was another person watching the show, telling their daughter, who’s now bunking drug dealers, “2 or 3 crack-heads at most. They eat all the good cereal.”