Misty May's Ass, Au Revoir

Ever since that picture above started making the rounds, in which it looks like Dubya is about to smack Misty May right in her Olympically-toned posterior, my Google hits for the phrase "Misty May's ass" have dropped off the cliff. For four years, I was permanently in the top ten, at times even the #1 Google search for those three words. Seriously, four years. Take a look at the date on the post in which I first began making jokes about how many hits I was getting for that phrase. Most blogs don't even last four years. I've been running one joke into the ground for that long.

Anyhoo, because of that picture, and everyone posting it and commenting on it, I've been bumped from #1 on Google all the way to page 12. (And still falling.) Sheesh!

It was amusing when I first noticed all the Google hits I got from that phrase, and it's amused me to revisit Misty May and her rump every once in a while over the ensuing four years. But now... man, I just don't have the energy or will to keep up. If I'm going to have to refer to Misty May's hindquarters every other day in order to reattain my first page position on Google, I just can't be bothered. And compound this with the fact that May is going to appear on the next season of Dancing with the Stars (as Augie has recently alerted me), and you can see I'll never be able to talk about her sit-upon enough to keep pace with all those wonderfully perverted Google searchers out there.

So today, with sadness in my heart, I announce that I am officially retiring the "Misty May's ass" joke from this blog. No more shall I blog about Misty May's ass, or show pictures of Misty May's ass, or make meta references to hit counts generated by Misty May's ass, or in any way exploit Misty May's ass.


Okay, one last time.

Farewell, Misty May's ass. And good luck to you in all your future endeavors. A new era has dawned here at Tom the Dog's blog! Misty May's ass... is dead.


Long live Kerri Walsh's ass!

TV: Minute-by-minute at the 2004 Emmys Ceremony

8:00 -- We begin with the conceit that the Emmys are a reality show, and already I want to smack the shit out of someone.

8:02 -- Shandling participates in a pre-taped Extreme Makeover bit. Way to set the bar low, Shandling.

8:04 -- Shandling, live, tries to riff off the pre-taped bit. Instant death. Oh, Jesus, is this going to be a long show. By the way: he clearly has had surgery; his face is tighter than Katherine Helmond's in Brazil.

8:06 -- His first good line, lamenting the excess of reality shows on the air: "It's to the point now, when a television commercial comes on, I go, 'Thank God! Professional actors and a story!'"

8:07 -- Al Pacino now looks like Antonio Banderas' younger brother. When the hell did that happen??

8:08 -- Another good line: "We missed Osama Bin-Laden but we got Martha Stewart! Don't tell me we're not a focused country!" Also: Zach Braff is in the house! I wonder if he's presenting?

8:09 -- Early nominee for worst joke: "If the conservatives want to stop homosexuals from having sex, shouldn't they let them get married? That seems to stop my married buddies!" Ouch. My side. It hurts, from the laughing.

8:12 -- Shandling mispronounces presenter Chris Noth's last name (it should rhyme with "both", not "cloth").

8:13 -- For the 87th year in a row, David Hyde Pierce wins Supporting Actor for a Comedy for Frasier. Already my picks are 0-for-1, and all I can think is, man, Jeffrey Tambor has a darker fake tan than Sarah Jessica Parker. Disturbing. Seriously, the announcer says this is Pierce's 11th consecutive nomination, and his 4th win. You gotta imagine a load of audience members are thinking, "Happy retirement, motherfucker!"

8:15 -- Michael Imperioli wins Supporting Actor in a Drama for The Sopranos, which makes me 0-for-2. But I'm okay with that, because he really is quite incredible on that show, and this is an early signal that maybe The West Wing isn't going to dominate as in years past. Too bad for Buscemi, though. Geez, Imperioli's written five episodes of The Sopranos? Suddenly, I hate him. Jealous? Me? Nah!

8:22 -- Simon Cowell and Donald Trump take the stage to co-present an award. If the stage suddenly collapsed on their heads, I think the world would go on, don't you? (For the hostility-impaired, by that I mean: die, die, die.)

8:23 -- 1-for-3! Cynthia Nixon takes Supporting Actress for a Comedy. And strangely, that fails to make me happy. This is an early signal that Sex in the City will dominate as in years past, which just makes me ill.

8:25 -- Portia de Rossi and Jason Bateman come out to present other presenters. That's gotta be the worst gig in the whole show. "We don't matter enough to present an award, but we've been allowed to present other people who will present an award. Pity us." They present...

8:26 -- Laura Linney and John Turturro. Laura Linney is as lovely as the day is long, and I will poke you in the eye if you dare disagree. They present for Direction in a Comedy Series, and -- Arrested Development wins! Calloo, callay! Could it be they now have a shot at Best Comedy? No, no it couldn't. This award is always a consolation prize for the best show that doesn't have a shot at winning the big prize. But it's still cool.

8:31 -- Arrested Development also wins for Writing! Which is also traditionally a runner-up prize, but... both Directing and Writing? Hmm...

8:32 -- Michael Hurwitz (for Arrested Development) gives a very funny acceptance speech. When the music comes up to kick him off the stage, he continues, "And I'd like to sing this now, if I may." Nice.

8:33 -- Cutting to commercial, they show Drea de Matteo with the hairiest, greasiest, grossest-looking little shit in the auditorium. Hey, I've got a shot!

8:38 -- Amber Tamblyn and Zach Braff come out to present. Together, they're my favorite young female and male performer on TV. Which makes me afraid, for no logical reason. Braff to Tamblyn after a joke bombs: "Don't you know God? Couldn't we've got a better joke than that?"

8:39 -- Drea de Matteo wins for Supporting Actress in a Drama. I'm 2-for-4. She looks amazing. And again, apparently I have a shot!

8:40 -- Shandling brings his Larry Sanders co-star Jeffrey Tambor on stage with him. It's pretty funny, which is nice. Then they introduce a bunch of chumps from The O.C., which is not funny.

8:42 -- Wow, Walter Hill (director of The Warriors, among many other action classics) wins for Director of a Drama Series for Deadwood. That's old school, yo.

8:49 -- A montage of great moments from the last year in television makes me wish I had watched more TV, oddly enough. I'm a sad, lonely man.

8:50 -- Until they get to the reality show shit, and then I just want to kill everyone and everything.

8:54 -- Jeffrey Wright wins Supporting Actor in a Miniseries or Movie for Angels in America. In other vital, breaking news, my left butt cheek itches. Wait, wait... ah, that's better.

9:04 -- Jon Stewart comes out, and my hopes are raised. His bit on a George Washington smear commercial "Paid for by Continental Skiff Boat Oarsmen for Veracity" is decent, not great, but it's excellent to see all the Daily Show correspondents in a piece on the Emmys.

9:07 -- I think Elaine Stritch, apparently a 150-year-old vaudeville veteran, is a fictional character, until she actually accepts her Emmy. Weird.

9:08 -- In the aftermath of Janet Jackson and Bono, they bleep the word "Jesus" during her acceptance speech. Dammit, is every network going to be a total pussy until a Democrat gets elected President?

9:13 -- Writing in a Variety/Music/Comedy Program goes to The Daily Show Which is just, yeah, that's obvious. If nothing else, Emmys got at least one dead on the nail.

9:16 -- Okay, somebody's fucking with me. Because Garry Shandling just introduced, in the audience, Kerri Walsh and Misty May. Geez, just when I thought it was safe to go back in the water. Fine, I give up. Just in case my hit count is dropping: Misty May's ass, Misty May's ass, Misty May's ass.

9:21 -- When they show Kiefer Sutherland in the audience, I can see Bonnie Hunt behind him. And goddam if she isn't a bundle of gorgeous. Seriously, she's so lovely, and a comic genius to boot: no wonder ABC cancelled her. Dumbasses.

9:22 -- Mariska Hargitay and Matthew Fox have to do that thing where they present other presenters. They suck. And they present... Sharon Stone and the Shat! Winners for Guest Actress and Guest Actor in a Drama, on The Practice. Sharon Stone is wearing a silk handkerchief, by the way. And they present Writing for a Drama, which goes to The Sopranos. Okay, I'll say it now: if The Sopranos doesn't take Best Drama, I'll eat my hat. (Unless they lose, in which case I'll erase this before I post it.)

9:25 -- A montage of series finales, which oddly makes me wish I had spent less time watching TV. I remain a sad, lonely man.

9:31 -- Mary-Louise Parker wins for Supporting Actress in a Miniseries or Movie, for Angels in America. In other news: my right butt cheek itches. Also: damnation, that's a dress with some cleavage! It lifts and separates!

9:38 -- Wow, Antonio Banderas is actually in the audience, and, referring back to my earlier joke: he's also fatter than Al Pacino. Damn, dude, what happened?

9:39 -- The Daily Show wins for Best Variety/Music/Comedy Program, and again: obvious. The next year it doesn't win this category is the year after it goes off the air. Strange note: when they showed the audience as Stewart & Co. took the stage, there was the sound of wild applause... but I couldn't see one person in the lower level (the "talent" level) applauding. Bitches.

9:42 -- Anthony LaPaglia uses his American accent (he's Australian) even as a presenter. How odd.

9:43 -- Tony Kushner wins for Writing for Best Whatever Angels in America was nominated for because, well, duh. It's not going to lose anything it's nominated for tonight. It's the Return of the King of the Emmys.

9:50 -- In an insane, inspired bit, the presenters for Reality Series are two real people who have no idea that they are presenting -- they're led out on stage in earmuffs and blindfolds. Their reactions on discovering where they are and what they're doing are strangely moving. Stupid reality TV! You got me again!

9:52 -- The Amazing Race beats The Apprentice and American Idol for Reality Series, which is yet another sign that the Emmy voters are less bugfuck insane than in recent years.

9:55 -- Something the Lord Made wins Best TV Movie. I can't even muster a joke here. I've had a six-pack of Pyramid Apricot Ale since the ceremony began, people. Cut me some slack.

10:05 -- Al Pacino wins for Lead Actor in a Miniseries or Movie for Angels in America. Because, duh. Weirdly, director Mike Nichols looks like Austin Powers, 20 years later. Also: Pacino's speech goes for over three minutes, but the get-off-the-stage music never comes on. Hmm... could that be just because he's Al frickin' Pacino? I wonder.

10:08 -- Anjelica Huston and James Spader announce Mike Nichols wins for Best Directing for Whatever Category Angels in America was nominated for. Because, duh. He doesn't get the music, either.

10:12 -- Taye Diggs and Victor Garber come out to present. Dude, Taye Diggs is the most handsome man in the world, and I don't care who knows I said that. But I'm still very, very straight. Very. Well, mostly. No, very!!

10:13 -- The Emmy voters prove they go for the tallest nominee as Allison Janney wins for the 4th time for Lead Actress in a Drama, in the first category I had a pick in since 8:39. I'm 2-for-5.

10:16 -- The Bob Hope award is presented to Danny Thomas, accepted by Marlo Thomas. Which means, time for me to take a bathroom break.

10:24 -- Sarah Jessica Parker wins Lead Actress in a Comedy. I'm now 3-for-6, and again, I'm not happy about that beak-nosed, wart-chinned witch winning for the crapfest that is Sex and the City -- but at least I hit another one of my picks.

10:27 -- Conan O'Brien. He rips on Joan Rivers, which is a little too obvious, but makes up for it by saying, "Yeah, I'll take my time, I didn't see Pacino rush."

10:28 -- I was right in John Ritter losing, I was wrong in who would beat him. Kelsey Grammer takes his 87th Emmy for Lead Actor in a Comedy. I'm 3-for-7.

10:30 -- Tom Selleck has to pause because of all the women in the audience hootin' and hollerin' for him. I think one of them is my mom. Simmer down, ma!

10:31 -- That was some poor planning. They scheduled the Roll Call of the Dead following the Lead Actor in a Comedy award, presuming John Ritter would win it. Well, he didn't. No soup for him! He's just plain dead. Where's your messiah now?? Hey, they didn't mention Ritter in this montage at all. They must be planning a separate tribute. Unless -- did he die before the Emmys last year?

10:39 -- James Spader surprises me -- and probably many others -- with a win for Lead Actor in a Drama. I'm 3-for-8.

10:41 -- William H. Macy and Treat Williams? Okay, whatever.

10:42 -- Meryl Streep wins for Lead Actress in a Miniseries or Movie for Angels in America because, duh.

10:43 -- "There are some days when I myself think I'm overrated... but not today." Streep's acceptance speech is classic. Naming her co-nominees: "Emma Thompson, who will hold a grudge for the rest of her life... but who cares!"

10:50 -- Guess what wins Best Miniseries? If you said anything other than Angels in America, you win a swift kick in the ass.

10:53 -- The first "Holy shit!" moment of the evening: Arrested Development takes Best Comedy! Unbelievable! This is the first time the most deserving show has won in this category since... I don't know when! I can't, I don't... Christ, I have to go sit down for a moment. Wow!! I bet Fox is glad they didn't cancel it now. Until they cancel it midway through the next season. Bitches. I'm now 3-for-9 in my picks. But that's fine, Emmy did good, Emmy did good.

10:59 -- Aaaaand... The Sopranos wins Best Drama. Giving me an embarrassing 4-for-10 for the night. But good for them!

11:00 -- They squeezed everything into three hours, mercifully. Until next year! Unless I throw my TV out the window, which is entirely possible.

TV: Olympics 2004

I'm back from vacation, and you will probably be unsurprised to hear I spent a great deal of it watching TV (due to the constraints of having to plan all outside activities around the fussiness quotient of the world's cutest niece). And the majority of that TV watching involved the Olympics, which, as always, I thought I wouldn't give a rat's ass about, but wound up being totally sucked into. I haven't yet found a sport I've never watched before and totally fallen in love with it, as I did with curling at the 2002 Utah Games, but I've found an awful lot to love, and of course hate. Some thoughts:

-- Michael Phelps is a great swimmer and all, but how pointless was it to build up such a gigantic wall of hype around him, one which was absolutely impossible for him to live up to? I don't care how much they talked him up, if you did even the laziest of research, you knew that he never, ever, ever had a chance to beat Thorpe or Hoogenband in the 200M freestyle. Still, he set a personal record, an American record, and won the bronze medal, which is pretty spectacular -- but instead of triumph, the inflated expectations made it feel like defeat.

-- I thought I would like fencing -- women hitting each other with swords, how medievally cool is that? -- but the women's saber competition turned out to be confusing and irritating. Both fencers have lights in their helmets which flash when they've been struck, which you'd think would make things easy to keep track of -- but no. On almost every point, both players would land a touch, and both helmets would flash, and you would only know who landed a touch first by the fencers' reactions (I quickly came to hate silver medalist Tan Xue of China for her banshee shriek after every single point she won). And sometimes, the fencers' reactions were wrong: both helmet lights would flash, and both would cheer in victory, until the judge would declare which of them actually won the point. The obvious question: if it's possible to rig the fencing helmets like this, is it not also possible to rig them so that only the fencer who is touched first lights up? We can put a man on the moon...

-- The women's beach volleyball is so great it almost hurts. Four immaculately chiseled women in skimpy bikinis jumping and diving in the sand, and patting each other on the butt after every point? Yeah, sign me up for that. But it doesn't hurt that the action is also impressive, with Kerri Walsh and Misty May especially showing amazing athletic ability in their matches. And, unlike the American women's softball team -- which has shut out every contender, including mercy rule annihilations of Italy and Australia, and is steamrolling its way to the gold -- May and Walsh, though clearly the best, have actually had to fight for their wins, which makes the matches all the more exciting.

-- The men's beach volleyball is okay too, I guess.

-- Synchronized diving is lame -- as King Kaufman at Salon noted: as opposed to synchronized swimmers, who may be silly, but at least are doing something unique, "synchronized divers are doing the same thing regular divers do, only they're doing it in pairs, and they're not doing it as well as the regular divers do it." And I hate that so much primetime TV was wasted on it. But I love the technology devoted to it. The dive-cam, which drops the full height of the platform, following the divers from their jumps all the way underwater. The time-lapse photography, showing each minute flaw of the divers all at the same time. Has there ever been so much money and footage invested in something so totally lacking in worth or interest? Aside from Paris Hilton?

-- But I did enjoy seeing the utter meltdown of every other team which let the Greeks win the gold, and then watching them race around the pool in celebration, especially when one of them wiped out on the slippery tile. My brother-in-law and I had a field day with that: "Did he forget to put on his flip-flops?" "There's a sign posted right there: 'No running in the pool area!'" "Right next to the 'Welcome to my ool' sign." "Only it's in Greek: 'Welcome to my oolakamakalakapakis. Notice there's no π in it. Please keep it that way.'"

-- Yes, I speak in Greek symbols.

-- I didn't care for what little of the women's field hockey I watched. I don't know what I was expecting, what with "hockey" right there in the name, but it really was just like hockey, with the ball almost always right on the ground. I kind of thought they'd be tossing the ball through the air with those sticks, like lacrosse or something. And those sticks they use are way too short, forcing the players to be all hunched over to reach the ball. The chiropractors must make a mint off field hockey players. They either need longer sticks or shorter players.

-- I apologize to synchronized swimming, which I had previously thought to be the most boring Olympic sport ever. Because now I've seen dressage.

I probably have far too many other observations to make about the Olympics so far, but that's plenty for now. There's a thing or two about tennis I'd like to get to, and I haven't even mentioned gymnastics yet. More later.