This time of the year, sunday is not a mediocre night of television. Between True Blood, Mad Men and The Gates, there is normally no talking to me from nine o’clock onwards. After about an hour into last nights Emmy’s, I wondered why I had chosen to ruin my night watching it. Fallon was quite possibly the worst host I have seen. Did the man even tell one joke that got a true laugh? I seriously think that people giggled out of pity. If I had played a drinking game for every joke that bombed, I would have been kissing the porcelain throne by eleven when it ended.
Usually when you watch an award show, there are a few memorable moments, but last night, I found myself thinking, please lord let it end. I promised Holly, my co blogger at Women’s Eye on Media, that I would do a gchat with her for the show– and so I could not even turn the channel. When he was not making ridiculous twitter jokes, he was strolling around with a guitar. I found that I could not even concentrate on who won, because I was desperately wishing that Fallon would just be quiet. At one point in the evening, I found myself wishing for the return of The Gong Show. Yes, I am showing my age, now be quiet. At any rate, I want to know how he thought that this was entertaining?
And then when he did this:
Something inside me surged with a huge desire to throw a shoe at my television. You don’t bastardize Green Day. Not cool! So, I suppose the short, if you missed the Emmys be thankful; it was probably the worst three hours of television I have seen in a very long time.