Hyperbole, Wolves, and a Brief Foray into Poetry

Best Question-Based Searches That Found Their Way To My Blog Today: “What’s Raven Symone’s cell phone number” and “who makes the reading glasses that Donny Deutsch wears?”

Helpful Answers to Above Questions: 1. 818-734-7891 (ask for Rave) 2. Prada, obvi.

Not Brief(ish) Pop Culture Rant: Admittedly, friends, I am a man of hyperbole. Several times a day I announce things like, “this is the single greatest magazine article of all time” and “there’s never been a greater BLT sandwich than this BLT sandwich in all of the history of time” to little or no fanfare. After all, people eventually stopped listening to The Boy Who Cried Wolf even when that Wolf was all up in his shit sheep. With that said, I’m going to try and hold back on the hyperbole here, but…I just…ah, f*ck it. The television series Friday Night Lights is the greatest non-HBO television drama of all time. There. I said it. Now, I don’t watch much TV in real time. I get Netflix and do the whole Sunday HBO shows thing (Flight of the Conchords, anyone?), and that’s about it.

But then, after finding YouTube on the Internet 2.0, I next discovered that you could watch entire seasons of tv shows online. It was like Christmas morning combined with the worst thing ever for someone who already has trouble self-motivating/grooming. So first I watched all of 30 Rock, which might be the funniest… nevermind. And then I moved onto Friday Night Lights for two reasons: 1. I was obsessed with the book, mostly because I spent my formative years in a football crazy town in Texas and 2. My dear friend Ramsey (who just moved to NYC as part of his 2 step plan to slowly work his way back into my life) spends a large portion of the time he isn’t talking about the Chicago Bears or marinades for skirt steaks yelling about how unbelieveable Friday Night Lights is. “BEST. SHOW. EVER.” he said last weekend, for example.

And–the worst part is–he’s totally right. There’s the caring but demanding coach and his attractive but totally-with-it wife. There’s the stupid but grossly handsome fullback who day drinks and sleeps with all of the pretty girls. There’s the former All-State QB who is now paralyzed and kind of a dick, understandably. There’s a dude named Smash who talks in the third person. And best of all, there is the QB 1 Matt Saracen, who is so socially awkward on the show that he’s either the greatest actor of all time (hyperbole?) at portraying a 16 yr old, or actually super socially awkward. The show tackles big themes (racism, drug abuse, Iraq), small themes (what to buy your GF when you were photographed in a hot tub with three rally girls), and medium(ish) themes (is your mom sleeping with Lyla Garrity’s dad?) with a grace and skill not seen on the NBC network since Joey. It’s the only show that–when it goes to commercial– I actively say aloud to my computer, “No, don’t be over” and then pretend to be talking on my cell when my roommate walks by. So go to NBC.com and watch that sh*t because clearly you and I are running out of things to talk about.

Anyway, the original main point, before I lost myself in the music of Friday Night Lights the moment I owned it, was that I’m in a poetry Lit class right now, and I don’t hate it, and, in fact, kind of like it. But I have to catch a plane and put on my make up and exfoliate so instead of that essay I will leave you with a brief poem by Joe Wenderoth from a collection called “Letter’s to Wendy’s” and then I will sign off and enjoy the weekend activties I have planned.

Letters to Wendy’s

August 26, 1996

Very high on marijuana brownies, I could not speak today at the reg-
ister. I kept stepping aside for other customers and staring hard at the
menu. I was overwhelmed by the chicken sanwich pictured there,
but had no words for it. I kept saying, “there, that one…the man
dressed like a woman.” It’s hard to get served when one understands
the signifier as a process.

This is how you remind me,

Nickel,
back

ps- pictured below: The most terrifying boy/cried/wolf children’s book picture. Ever. And a question: correct me if i’m wrong but isn’t that boy actually Link from the Zelda video games? And if so, where’s his Noble Sword?

You might also like:

  • No Related Posts

6 thoughts on “Hyperbole, Wolves, and a Brief Foray into Poetry

  1. Michelle

    You look a little too cute Kevin, to be a writer. Better "nerd" yourself up a bit with some glasses and greasy hair or something. lol

    HBO? Entourage rocks…but you have to check out Weeds on Showtime.
    Michelle, author of CONFESSIONS OF A CATHOLIC SCHOOLGIRL

  2. Esther

    This is the BEST BLOG EVER! Couldn’t help but join in the fun. Just wanted to say thanks. I’m at the beginning of a career transition (into writing)and you’ve motivated me finally start posting on my own blog. Keep up the writing.. I’ll be checking in.

  3. Kelly Klepfer

    Dear Kevin, AKA Mr. Alexander,

    I write for the popular NovelJourney blogspot. And since you’ve offered an interesting segue (how to contact people who may not want to be contacted) now might be a great time to ask you if you’d be interested in being interviewed at NovelJourney.

    If so, shoot me an e-mail at the provided addy.

    Thanks, looking forward to hearing from you.

    Did I mention that I find your writing amusing?

    Kelly Klepfer

COMMENT