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Just When You Thought You Couldn’t Hate Him Any More…

Good lord.

Is anyone watching Minding the Store, that new Pauly Shore quasi-reality show? I tried last night. Really, I tried. There was nothing on, the TiVo was empty, and I actually never minded ‘The Weasel’. Honestly. I’m one of the few people I know who can sit through Encino Man without bludgeoning myself with the TV remote.

But this show… wow. Bad. Horrific, even. My eyes are glazing over again, just remembering. There’s that twitch in my neck, too. Yow.

First of all, Pauly Shore never needed anyone to make him look bad. We all know how much most of the world hates him already. Just whisper the word ‘Bio-dome‘ to some people, and they’ll jump out of their seats, flailing and cursing and foaming at the mouth. I don’t blame them, frankly. I still have this Tourette’s-like thing going on when I hear the title of one of his crappy movies, myself. I can’t help myself; it can be pretty embarassing, though:

Lady at Work: Oh, hi, Charlie. There’s someone here I’d like you to meet.

Me: Why, sure, I’d love to.

Lady at Work: Charlie, this is Fred. He’s —

Me: Hi, Fred, great to meet you!

Lady at Work: — my Son-In-Law.

Me: Fucking lousy dickhead bastard!

Yeah, that took a few boxes of chocolates and a pair of Red Sox tickets to make up for. Or at least convince the two of them not to kick my ass. And don’t even ask what happened when I was asked once to go on Jury Duty. Let’s just say that I didn’t make it to jury duty — but I did spend a few days in the courthouse. Bitches.

Anyway, this is all just a tad off the topic, as usual. My point was simply that this new show of his, as horrible as it sounded… is way worse than you’d ever imagine. It’s a little like taking your sense of humor and the neurons that give you whatever bit of good taste you have, ripping them out of your brain, feeding them through a sausage grinder, stomping on the bits, wiping them up with a towel, and stabbing and ripping the towel to shreds with a meat cleaver. And that’s just getting to the first commercial break, which was all I could stand. My days as a ‘Pauly-pologist’ are over, man. That shit makes the Anna Nicole Show look like Masterpiece Theater. Bury the Weasel, dude. Game over, already.