Season 2, Episode 25: Meeting Mr. Pony - Which Sounds Like The Title Of Some Smutty, Sordid Snuff Film Someone Like Mel Would Be Into, No?

Does anyone remember Graham from Saved by the Bell? The character had a one-episode stint in "Cut Day," the one where Slater and Jessie break up and no one cares because they aren't Zack and Kelly?

Yeah, this guy.  Well, here, he plays a sweaty, tweaked-out armed robber.  Which is unfortunate, mostly because he did so well as a recycling-obsessed MEGA DORK whose shirt served as a perfect 3-D interpretation of the SBTB opening credits.  Anyway.

We start here.

Inside, Brenda tries to study, while Dylan plays with her hair and is generally adorable...other than the fact that THE GREEN SHIRT.  NOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo.  I thought we had left it behind in an on-fire dumpster earlier in the season.

Brenda speaks of electrons and cathode rays and upcoming midterms and all Dylan really wants to do is fuck.  Maybe right on the couch like Brandon may or may not have done with Emily? Why not!

Hot Slut Smooches.

But! Brenda's had enough of this shit, gathers her work, stands up and tells him, "Obviously we're not gonna get anything accomplished here, so I think we should go to a public place.  Someplace preferably very well lit."

Dylan's all, "Not the library?"

Season 2; Episode 13 - Halloween: I'M ALIVE. And So Is Scott. But Not For Long. Also, Reminder: Please Don't Rape, Or Attempt To Rape, Anyone. Because That Makes You A Giant Piece Of Shit On Multiple Levels.

In which let's ignore the fact that I haven't been very attentive to the blog over the last infinity (real time: 3 months) and instead take a peek at the DVD menu for this disc:

I mean, look at it.

Reeeeally look at it.

Jesus.  Also: have I distracted you from my negligence yet? No? All I've done is provide you with an ample supply of night terrors for the remainder of your lives? Oh.  Well, then.  Carry on and...you're welcome? I guess?

                                                                                     

So we open with umpteen shots of jack-o'-lanterns lit from within by flickering candles.  Seriously, this goes on for at least 3 days.  A woman's screams can also be heard on the soundtrack, totally not inappropriate or disturbing and really just in keeping with the screams Kelly will be letting out later in the episode as she's being assaulted.  It's called "a theme," people.  Oh, and of course no opening montage would be complete without The Sweet Ghee-tar Lick.

We eventually fade up on these sad mini pumpkins with shoddily, Sharpie-drawn faces on them.

Unsurprisingly, it is AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea drawing the uninspired faces on the pumpkins, which are going to be party favors at The Valley Youth Center party AHHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea's attending later that evening.  How fucking depressing: a tiny gourd with a shitty, Sharpie-drawn face on it + having to hang out with The Zuck all night? Happy Halloween, kids.

Brandon mocks AHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea's evening plans with a sarcastic, "Ohhhh, how sweet." AHHHHHHHHNdrea reminds him that he likes kids, too, which he affirms, and then AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea adopts a high-pitched, sacchariny voice that gives us the tiniest glimpse of a sense of humor and mocks, "Ohhhhh, how sweet."

Brandon serves up this murderous glare, which is reminiscent of the time he seriously considered shaving Dylan's body of its flesh and boiling it up for a midday snack:

YIKES.

But seriously.

He continues to concern everyone by stabbing the pumpkin with the knife he's been wielding and twisting it around.  AHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea's face here speaks for us all.

BREAKING: But Not Really.

(I posted this filthy lie early last week on social media.* I had the intention of blowing through the writing of the "Halloween" recap this weekend.  Instead, on Friday night, I drank margaritas.  Followed by several vodka presses.  And on Saturday, in lieu of writing, I hated myself, slept on the couch, and only occasionally stirred to stuff grease-soaked grease into my mouth in the form of In-N-Out.  And then I thought about writing and didn't because being horizontal was more important.  In conclusion, "NEW POST UP WITHIN THE WEEK HURRAY" is a total sham, perpetrated by a delusional loser who is easily lured by the siren song of enchiladas, margaritas and Los Feliz bars crowded with boater hats and the bearded assholes who love them.  All of this to say that the post will not be up by Tuesday, or any other weekday next week.  But probably in like, the first week of May or something.)

Sing it, sister! Dylan's The More You Know Moment also self-servingly leads me to a shameless promotion of my next blog post, wherein I recap A Very Special Episode of Beverly Hills, 90210 about Halloween and how if you're costumed as a vampy witch, the guy who played The Jimmy on Seinfeld will try to force-feed you snack-size quesadillas and then attempt to rape you.  Which you'll totally deserve, by the way.  Because how can a man be expected to remember to not rape someone? I mean, really.  That's a tall order.  And on that note: NEW POST UP WITHIN THE WEEK HURRAY.

*If you don't follow me on social media, I don't blame you.  Also: I hate the term "social media." But if you're feeling particularly charitable, you can follow me on Instagram, Pinterest or Twitter.  I'm not that great about updating them or posting pictures of my meals or sunsets and stuff, but it would do wonders for my self esteem.

Season 2; Episode 10 - Necessity Is A Mother: Actually, Necessity Is A Box Of Franzia Sunset Blush Wine (Chillable Red Will Do In A Pinch), Several Cats To Pet, And A Toned Pair Of Eyeballs For All The Rolling They'll Be Doing While Watching This Episode.

In which Iris McKay (the person, not just the name) finally blows onto our screens and even though she's an abandoning, derelict, neglectful garbage person parent, you can't help but be sort-of charmed by her hippie-dippy, Cocker Spaniel-haired Earth Mother routine.  (Mostly I love her because she's cunty to Kelly after she and Dylan start dating in Season 3.)  Also, anyone who can give Cindy enough peyote-laced wheat germ to do this:

And then THIS:

Is all right in my book.  Tuck in.

We open inside a pool hall.  Bluesy, Bo Diddley music plays in the background.  You should get used to it, because it will play approximately 1,357 times this episode, always to let us know that we're in this billiards hall which is undoubtedly on the wrong side of the tracks and that all the people you see here are criminals and lowlifes.

We roll by several pool tables with loads of trashy randos who've given up on life standing around them.

We eventually wind up at YOU GUESSED IT Resident Beverly Hills Bad Boy Dylan McKay's table.  I'm pretty certain he was allowed in the pool hall given that he looks 29 here.

The Consummate Poor Little Rich Boy tosses his pool cue onto the table and walks away, like the rude, self-entitled little twat that he is.

He walks up to this guy at the register and gives him the rack of his balls.  I am 12, due to the fact that the term "rack of his balls" makes me chuckle.  Counter Guy asks, "Takin' off already?" and Dylan's all, "Yeah, I gotta get home.  Dinner with Mom."  Counter Guys goes from "Weirdly Dressed Guest Relations Person" to "All The Way Terrifying Serial Killer Whose Crawl Space Should Probably Be Exhumed" when he says, "Yeah, I had a mother once." Soooooo...he's a murderer, right? Like no doubt in anyone's mind? Okay, cool - glad to see we're all on the same page.

Counter Guy keeps randomly laughing like the fucking mental patient and sociopathic life-ender he is and tells Dylan, "You know, McKay, you're about the last guy who would ever struck me as bein' a mama's boy," which prompts Dylan to look at him like this (i.e. with a mixture of fear and...fear) and then slowly back away from the counter and out of the pool hall.

Season 2; Episode 9 - Ashes to Ashes: You Should Read This While Intermittently Watching Videos Of Kittens And Puppies Romping, Because It's Both Boring And Depressing And Videos Of Kittens And Puppies Romping Fixes Both Of Those Things.

This thing would've been up last weekend, but I was sick with what I'm pretty certain was Ebola or something in the same strain-family as Ebola, and also Gilmore Girls (shut up) arrived on NetFlix so that's been eating away at my entire existence taking up some most of my time (I said, shut up).  So, here it is.  Perhaps not the most inspired of posts (are they ever?)  but whatever.

In which I get to dissect an episode about police brutality against a black youth who's armed only with a pitiful bouquet of flowers and a tub of strawberry yogurt.  So...this shouldn't be awkward and uncomfortable in the slightest.  Can we go back to finding new ways to describe the decaying prairie dog corpse residing on top of Emily Valentine's head? No?  Okay then.  Let's get squirmy.

We open at House Of Walsh, nighttime.

Inside to the Living Room Of Walsh where a bunch of Adult Randos who fell straight out of 1982 are convened and sitting on folding chairs and looking at...something.

Which turns out to be this guy, standing at the front of the group, looking at his wristwatch.

Brandon and his trashy hair and Brenda, with her reasonably cute sweater and Vulvodynia Jeans, stand in the doorway and judge all the Old Timers.  Rightfully so, I believe, given how all of them are dressed.

And then Rando Guy launches into, "Believe it or not, that was 90 seconds.  Not a long time by any means, but certainly long enough for any garden-variety criminal to rob your house; rob you bat blind!  It's not my intention to frighten you!  I'm simply trying to point out that in that same 90 seconds, an armed guard from the West Beverly Hills Patrol would've been at your doorstep!" and dude needs to calm the fuck down and work on his presentation skills (or cut down on the coke) because he's like, shouting at everyone and coming across like a real bossy prick.  So basically, he's coming across like Brandon.

Cindy, Jim and some biddy sit in the front row and nod in approval.  Side note: Cindy looks very pretty in this scene.  Not that you can tell from this still.  But she does.  Trust me.

So Rando Guy says, "Before I take any questions, I'd like to thank our hosts of the evening - also they are our newest subscribers - Jack and Candy Welsh."

That was...GLOOOOOOOOORious.  As is Cindy's Cut A Bitch face.

As Rando Guy chuckles like some kind of sweaty sexual deviant and the crowd of Old Timers applauds, Jim and Cindy turn around and Jim clarifies, "It's Walsh.  Jim and Cindy Walsh."

Later, Rando shows Jim the ins-and-outs of the Walshes' newly installed alarm system.  Brandon and Brenda walk by making faces and Brandon condescendingly mutters to his father, "Well, now we can sleep at night." Jim mutters back, "Huh, don't get me started, this was your mother's idea," because he apparently thinks the man standing RIGHT NEXT TO HIM WHO WORKS FOR THE ALARM COMPANY HE'S CURRENTLY DISSING can't hear a single dickish word he's saying.

Cindy, meanwhile, has her hands full with the biddy, whose name we find out is Mrs. Cooper.  Cindy's talking about being another "block captain," because it will make her feel important in society and she won't have the need to knock back a bottle or three of Sutter Home white zin every afternoon (I'm paraphrasing).  Mrs. Cooper talks about some Lieberman's in the neighborhood whose house was recently broken into in broad daylight, as well as the some dude with the last name of Kaplan who has a bunch of yapping dogs.  And then she asks Cindy if she knows of the new people who moved into the old Walker house.  Cindy's all, "What are they like?" and Mrs. C. tells her, "Colored." Hahaha, just kidding.  She merely chortles all racistly and says, "Oh, you'll see."