The Maury You Know

I was really tired the other night, so tired I could barely finish my Hungry Man at dinner. They say it contains over 1lb of food and judging by my weight before and after I gave my offering to the porcelain god, they’re pretty bang on. Ah well, you know the old saying, a tired dog is a happy dog, unless you’re sick. Then you should go to the vet or in my case the doctor. There was that one time where we couldn’t afford health insurance and I had to resort to going to a vet who was a friend of mine. It wasn’t too bad, instead of lollipops you get Milk Bones and instead of a physical you get your nuts chopped off.




Go ahead, make your septic tank beg for mercy




I was still really tired the next day so I took the day off. Beth thinks it’s because I got up at 3am and ate another Hungry Man (I just can’t resist their moose meat and apple dumpling platter with the banana split side). I didn’t listen to her though, I just plunked my tired ass on the couch and drowned her out with some good ole American television. I love daytime television. To hell with prime time, daytime television is the meat and potatoes of what makes this country great. I don’t know what me and my family would do without quality programs like Days of Our Lives and Jerry Springer. Not only does it entertain, it gives women something to do when their not ironing our shirts and making our meals or whatever it is that women do when us men are out in the field haulin’ the bacon back to the ranch. Anything that keeps ‘em from thinkin’ too hard is fine with me. All you have to do is put on your Adidas jumpsuit, put the kids in the basement, fill out your fake worker compensation claim and let the good times roll. I mean, if God wanted most Americans to get out and work rather than staying home and making babies he would tell us through a popular medium, most likely daytime television.

My favorite show is Maury. Maury Povitch always has great guests with a huge range of problems on the show. From people demanding paternity tests to people demanding maternity tests, he has it all. Some might not know this but Maury Povitch runs a farm he likes to call the “Affair Lair” where human beings are raised in pickle jars and taught to cheat on their spouses and having as many illegitimate children as possible in order to keep his show going. Good on you, Mr. Povitch, America needs people like you, you’re part of what makes America great, like the fourth of July and obesity.

I like his show so much I’m willing to overlook the fact that Maury sold his soul to Satan for some spruce gum and a three inch nail when he was in the fourth grade. That’s all Satan had to bargain with back then because Maury is actually a 3,500 year old vampire who saw the fall of Rome and sucked the blood from Jesus Christ while he was on the cross. I’m willing to overlook all of this because I believe in second chances. Maury does so much good on his show sometimes he even makes me feel like a bag of shit after watching it.






All this I did for thee...and ratings





It’s also widely known that Maury Povich has sex with chickens to get pumped up before each show. Normally I’d be kind of wary around someone like this but who am I to question him? Give a genius his space, I say. If everyone told Einstein he wasn’t allowed to be the first person to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean he would have never built that nuclear bomb that saved us from China during the Civil War. Pay attention to history folks, you can apply it to almost every modern situation.

The only gripe I have with the guy is that in 10 years he’s never returned ay of my letters, phone calls or smoke signals. I was on the show back in 1995 and I even got on his wife Connie Chung’s show once with Heidi Fleiss and let me tell ya, it was hard to figure out who was the bigger whore in that room.







Colonel Sanders, I salute you









I was on the show to prove that one of my kids was actually mine. I can’t remember which, lets just call him Whiney for fun. Anyway, some skank I had nailed in a tattoo parlor in ’92 thought she’d be cute and try and tell me that little Whiney wasn’t mine and tried to take him away from me. Well brah, every time I looked at the tattoo on my chest it’d remind me of him and I’d break down. The tattoo reads “Got Your Tickets?” Then there were two arrows pointing diagonally upwards towards my arms and the bottom line reads “To The Gun Show”.

Well the paternity test proved that I was the father and once the Lesbian S&M Crochet club had their turn on the show we got to meet Maury. It was a real honor to meet a man with such integrity. He took one look at Beth and said that he could really use her for his upcoming show called “My Wife’s Breasts Should Have Their Own Zip Code”. I tell ya, a class act all the way. We weren’t going to be in town then so we declined but Maury said to keep in touch and I don’t have to tell you who hasn’t kept up their side of that bargain.







Naiiiiled it!






I guess I shouldn’t be angry at him though, he’s a busy man. I decided to see what he’s been up to so I checked out his interweb page on the computer. While there I visited the “Maury Store”. I was hoping for something really cool like an Eight Ball Jacket or Hitler’s mustache but the only thing that really stood out was Maury Povich ringtones for your cell phone. I decided to try them and now whenever anyone calls me a woman’s voice says “No You Di’int…No You Di’int”. It’s pretty sweet, and I was getting sick of my old one anyway. It was Urkel from Family Matters saying “Did I Do That?”