A man, a man no different than you or I (unless you’re a woman, in which case, a man no different than you or I, except he has a penis and you don’t), is walking his dog one morning when he trips over something on the sidewalk. He looks down and is shocked to see that it looks like some sort of lamp-shaped rock. Wait. It’s actually a lamp! He brushes the dirt off it, and a genie-shaped genie, who is in no way a framing device for an article on a blog, appears out of the dust and dog poo. Without hesitating, the Genie asks, “I am granting you 10 wishes, but they all have to be about TV.” The man wonders why the Genie is talking to his dog but he answers for him…
Well, first off: take Dr. Phil off television. I could actually spend all my wishes on people who should never appear on TV again — most judges, most bros in beer commercials, most everyone on CBS — but I’ve heard Genies are the Satan of the appearing-out-of-bottles world, so I’m afraid that if I say “take them off television,” you’d ironically kill them ON a television, or something, so I’ll leave it at Dr. Phil. But I will request, for wish #2, that you remove Melissa McCarthy…wait, I’m not finished…from Mike & Molly and either put her on SNL or give her another, better show of her own. She’s absurdly talented, and one of the most famous female movie stars today, yet she’s stuck on a dreary sitcom that makes people go, “That’s still on?” at best and “DER FAT PEOPLE” at worst.
Moving on: I love the NFL, so much so that I’m willing to look like the stock photo result for “tv guy excited” while staring at ESPN for three hours before the games even start on Sunday. But a guy can only take so many Chris Berman bear farts and Keyshawn Johnson banshee screams before he’s all HOT TAKE’d out. What I’m asking you, Genie, is to limit all pre- and post-game sports coverage to four people at a desk, both male and female. No more Last Supper sh*t — I don’t know why Philip and Matthew were invited then, and Mike Ditka and Cris Carter sure as hell weren’t now. As long as we’re on sports, I’d like to use wish #4 on axing sideline reporters interviewing managers and coaches. It’s deadening to watch, and as exciting as Ron Rivera admitting “we made some adjustment during halftime” is, that time could instead be spent on literally anything else. Cleatus playing the electric guitar, Joe Buck rhapsodizing, DirecTV Genie pointing at DVRs (say, do you know her?), whatever. Actually, just end the concept of sideline reporters altogether. I’m sure someone else can tell us our RB is out “with a knee.”