Continuing on with remote controls, for previous parts, click here: (Part I, Part II)…
Part Three! This is officially a trilogy! Lots of franchises don’t make it to this point. Think about it… The onset of rigor mortis prevented Bernie from doing his trademark floppy-armed wave, thus derailing any hopes for a Weekend at Bernie’s 3. After saving New York from a malevolent underground river of slime, there was really no way for the Ghostbusters to top a feat like that in a sequel. Also, we never got to see Boof have a litter of werewolf pups in Teen Wolf 3: Doggystyle. Even Guns ‘n Roses couldn’t muster another 18-minute monster ballad to justify a potential “Use Your Illusion III.”
So we’re in rarified air here. And this is nowhere near the final installment. My plan is to be like Tupac, and continue releasing new posts about remote controls long after I’m dead. People don’t seem to question this, so why not? I can just imagine some of the zany mishaps with remote controls I’ll encounter in the afterlife…
Anyway, in the previous segment, I implored my wife to exercise responsible use of the remote control with this simple request:
“If you’re going to watch TV, and insist on using the remote, can you please make an effort to leave the remote in a logical place?”
Seems like a reasonable request. Considering my sanity hung in the balance, you would think my wife might make an effort to honor my wishes. Instead, she devised a method that would seemingly address my concerns; yet at the same time make me painfully regret making the original request in the first place. How does she accomplish this feat? Well, after each use, she now places the remote control on top of the TV.
It took me a while to catch onto this. Nobody thinks of looking for the remote on top of the TV. Ironically, it’s almost the last place you’d look. I’d find myself spending a solid hour scavenging between couch cushions, filing police reports, and lighting prayer candles in hopes the remote would soon be safely returned before even glancing at the top of the TV. By the time I would actually locate the remote, whatever show I was hoping to watch was over and Spring Break Shark Attack II had begun.
Seriously, who puts the remote on top of the TV anyway? The whole point of having a remote is to avoid having to get off the couch and walk over to the TV in the first place. My personal definition of hell is pretty much having to rise from a seated, comfortable position when I shouldn’t have to. But what other option do I have? It’s not like I can watch TV without the remote control (another personal definition of hell). Lying on the couch, when I gaze across the room and see the remote taunting me atop the TV, I simply hang my head in defeat. At this point, you may as well prod me with a pitchfork for good measure…
Of course, I brought this on myself. I asked my wife to leave the remote control in a logical place. I didn’t clarify this any further. The word “logical” is somewhat ambiguous, and it left my wife plenty of loopholes to hang me with. It’s like one of those episodes of the Twilight Zone, where the guy is granted three wishes that all backfire horribly on him. You get the idea, where a simple wish to be “rich and famous” is granted by turning the dude into Rosie O’Donnell or a wish for “happiness” is granted with total spiritual consciousness instead of with an Xbox. And of course, these cruel and ironic twists eventually force him to use his final wish just to turn everything back to normal.
Sadly, I’m almost at that point. I think I would rather spend hours searching adjacent rooms, kitchen cupboards, linen closets, and all the other unorthodox places my wife likes to leave the remote rather than enduring the humiliating walk of shame from the couch to the TV to retrieve the remote… But the question remains, how did my wife come up with a plan so ironic? I think she may have borrowed the idea from Alanis Morrisette:
It’s like rain on your wedding day,
It’s the remote sitting on top of the TV,
It’s searching for an hour for something that is in plain sight,
And who would have thought? It’s standard…
Stay tuned for Part IV…
You, my friend, are the epitomy of laziness. I like the part about prodding you with a pitch fork to get you to get the remote because I can actually picture that happening. If you ask me, the remote should have a holster that is located on the coffee table or end table, some agreed upon location, where it should always be placed. This would help to avoid so many relationship ending arguments and unnecessary pain and agony.
By the way, I would officially like to announce that I have finally acquired an Xbox, decided to trade in the PS2 for one. Peewee, go ahead, take your shots. I even got Halo 2 so maybe I can join you geeks online when I have polished up my skills.
bout time bailes. join the crusade. back to matt, please don’t try and go over the top alla george lucas. III parts is enough on this topic. i’m telling you, get your own universal remote. keep it in your pocket at all times. also by the way, i’m working on my new post. let’s just say it involves michael jackson. should be interesting.
Bailes, that is excellent. Glad to see you’ve attained ownership of an Xbox, even though I’m perplexed by the PS2 having any trade-in value whatsoever. Regardless, this will be a watershed moment for you. The rest of your life begins today. The timing of significant events in your past will now contain the suffix B.X. (Before Xbox.)
Basic Training begins immediately… Your free time going forward needs to be devoted to becoming a ruthless killing machine. Household chores, personal grooming, eating and sleeping are now secondary priorities in life.
Get your Live account set up and we can start crackin’ some skulls. When you’re ready, look for me online… (I’ll be the one slicing off heads and arranging the bodies to read “Don’t Mess with McSex”…)
I plan on getting my live setup free by filling out surveys on microsoft.com. I’ll let you know when I have successfully scheistered my way to a free live setup. Until then, I will be dreaming about becoming the awesome killing machine that I always knew I could become. Looking forward to it…
man if you can’t drop 50 bucks at moments notice at your age…well i guess i don’t know what, but i wouldn’t waste time if i were you, mcsex is tough on noobs.
Hey, lay off, I’m trying to buy a house so every dollar counts, especially in this market. Besides, I need to get polished up before I go live, don’t want to make a fool out of myself.
Bailes, don’t worry about your skills. We play with Krusty all the time and he’s terrible. And when you jump online, don’t be intimidated by Solo’s ranking. He’s pure Horace Grant. He only plays the team games knowing full well that he can contribute here and there while leaving the real work of winning to the other starters. He might have a lot of championship rings on his fingers but their legitimacy can be debated. I only count Rumble Pit rankings as the true indicator of someone’s skills.
oh, look whos the big man talking trash. even though i don’t rumble pit as much, we still have the same ranking. wait till i actually put some time in. bong!!!
Check the stats Solo! We both have 52 games played. I am a higher 14 right now than you. I also have 3 wins to your two. Bong!
oh and bailes, i do understand people have financial priorities. talk to mcsex on this one. just playin with ya, i just want you to get online soon, it’s not that hard, i know you’ve got skillz dunny.
Yeah, hopefully it will be soon. Nice Horace Grant reference Dave, that was hilarious.
Oh really DA I feel that your direct assualt on my skills is completely off base. I have had games where I made you my punk biaatch many times. I have also recently lead the team in kills multiple times. In fact it seems like everytime we really need some kills is when DA floats away from the strategy and tries to be the terminater and ends up like poppa smurf. Blue and dead over and over. Booyah. Bailes
I’ll show you the real mad skills. And I’ll take DA on a head to head anytime.