There's something of a natural process of escalation that's built into this job.
Before every show I talk up the guests, and then after every show I talk up the guests. Occasionally I do callbacks to previous guests. I spend some time on the guests, is what I'm saying here.
I do this for two reasons: one, it's just part of my job to say that the people we book bestride the narrow world like a colossus while we petty men peep out to find ourselves dishonorable graves, and two, they do, in fact, bestride the narrow world like a colossus while we petty men peep out to find ourselves dishonorable graves (kind of a handy coincidence, that).
Still, at some point, I'm going to begin finding it hard to top myself. Sure, I could tell you that the gals from Monday Night Foreplays were so funny at our Saturday taping that they might have shifted the earth's crust a couple of inches, like a sort of comedic Tohuku earthquake. But come to think of it, don't I say that about the PianoFight regulars too?
The way I see it, there's only one way to resolves this:
Gladiatorial combat!
Yes, I propose that this show's guests square off against previous shows' guests to determine, once and for all, just whose ass I ought to be kissing around here!
That's right, I want Blake Schaefer and Todd Shipley to square off mano y mano, guitarra y guitarra in a magical musical duel (guitarists do that sort of thing, right?) for the privilege of being called the Variety Society's greatest guitar-toting folk hero!
I want "Little Shop of Horrors" star John Lewis to pit his killer alien plants against Windy Borman's army of cybernetically enhanced robo-elephants (legal disclaimer: Ms. Borman does not necessarily endorse cybernetic experimentation on elephants)!
Can the existential beer pong players of PianoFight still crack wise while under the influence of Monday Night Foreplays' specially formulated 72 Hour Energy drink? THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!
Is it crass? Sure. Gratuitous? Certainly. A senseless sideshow of carnage for the sake of an imagined prize of little or no value? Naturally! But at least...um...kind of forgot where I was going with this, actually.
Awkward...
Before every show I talk up the guests, and then after every show I talk up the guests. Occasionally I do callbacks to previous guests. I spend some time on the guests, is what I'm saying here.
I do this for two reasons: one, it's just part of my job to say that the people we book bestride the narrow world like a colossus while we petty men peep out to find ourselves dishonorable graves, and two, they do, in fact, bestride the narrow world like a colossus while we petty men peep out to find ourselves dishonorable graves (kind of a handy coincidence, that).
Still, at some point, I'm going to begin finding it hard to top myself. Sure, I could tell you that the gals from Monday Night Foreplays were so funny at our Saturday taping that they might have shifted the earth's crust a couple of inches, like a sort of comedic Tohuku earthquake. But come to think of it, don't I say that about the PianoFight regulars too?
The way I see it, there's only one way to resolves this:
Gladiatorial combat!
Yes, I propose that this show's guests square off against previous shows' guests to determine, once and for all, just whose ass I ought to be kissing around here!
That's right, I want Blake Schaefer and Todd Shipley to square off mano y mano, guitarra y guitarra in a magical musical duel (guitarists do that sort of thing, right?) for the privilege of being called the Variety Society's greatest guitar-toting folk hero!
I want "Little Shop of Horrors" star John Lewis to pit his killer alien plants against Windy Borman's army of cybernetically enhanced robo-elephants (legal disclaimer: Ms. Borman does not necessarily endorse cybernetic experimentation on elephants)!
Can the existential beer pong players of PianoFight still crack wise while under the influence of Monday Night Foreplays' specially formulated 72 Hour Energy drink? THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!
Is it crass? Sure. Gratuitous? Certainly. A senseless sideshow of carnage for the sake of an imagined prize of little or no value? Naturally! But at least...um...kind of forgot where I was going with this, actually.
Awkward...
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