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Monday, September 22, 2003


On Tuesdays I Use Colons

Many of you have asked: "Why has Bunsen forsaken us, his rabid public, on yet another Monday, especially a Monday following the orgy of Hollywood autoeroticism that is the Emmys?"

And many more of you have wondered: "How did that 'Ramble Like the Crazed Homeless' thing work out?"

Valid questions both. There is no one more autoerotic in this town than I am, and I did drop the enticing notion that someone could productively spend a day babbling like the dispossessed rather than like some brain damaged buccaneer.

So I spent Monday wandering my neighborhood, as I often do, offering my own scattered thoughts on Fox's Emmy broadcast. The following are excerpts from observations I offered to the souls that wander Hollywood Boulevard.

On Debra Messing, winner of Best Actress in a Comedy Series, to a Japanese couple taking pictures of Tom Cruise's handprints in front of the world-famous Chinese Theater: "Will and Grace. Will and Will and Grace Jones and Grace Kelly and gay gay gay. Closet full of brooms got more meat on its bones than Debra do. However I do find Sean Hayes delightful. I love tomato soup. I was scared when the truck full of midgets come running out to put out the fire on her head."

On The West Wing, winner of Best Dramatic Series in an upset over critical darling The Sopranos, to a man in a loose-fitting Spider-Man costume charging tourists five dollars for Polaroids with him: "I been to the White House. It's blue on the outside, and red on the inside, and black in the middle. That's why they call it the White House. Sorkin bought me mushrooms once, we sat on the roof of my Fiat and watched the full moon and talked progressive policy. Policy police-y. He's a Dem-o-crat, but he's in bed with Schwarzenegger, who put a chip in my brain and now they know when I watch Rob Lowe. This season really was a creative disaster, but the Emmy voters were sending a message to cable."

On James Gandolfini and Joe Pantoliano, winners of the Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor Awards in a Drama Series, respectively, to a man in front of a T-shirt shop handing out fliers for an all-nude review: "How you doin'? How do youin'? Do the Dew, you and you and you. Joey Pants and Big Jim's pants took it home, that's what I'm sayin'. Hasta pasta my friend, with a side of bada bing, va va voom. I cried at the break-up of Tony and Carmela's marriage at the end of the season, just like when my parents split up when I was fourteen. No amount of gabba-goo gonna mend this broken cuore, paesano. I have lasting abandonment issues and I haven't talked to my father in years. Like-a big-a pizza pie, that's Sopranos."

On Bill Cosby, winner of the Bob Hope Humanitarian Award, to a transvestite hooker at 2:44 a.m.: "I spy the puddin' man. I spy the man with a plan, a canal, Panama hat and a bowl of Jello, hello. Man, I missed those sweaters. He won the Bob Hope award, he's cursed to eternal life of being an unfunny American treasure with machines keeping him alive. Ellen Degeneres is a lesbian. But Bill Cosby's all man with a plan."

On Sex and the City, winner of zero awards, to a clerk in a store specializing in the type of shoe popular in gentlemen's clubs: "Thank God that overrated shit didn't win anything."

About this site

This is the internet home of Mark Lisanti, a Los Angeles writer sometimes known as Bunsen. He is the founding editor of Defamer, a weblog about Hollywood, where he now serves in the nebulous capacity of "editor-at-large."
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