Oh goodie…that hour I get dumber each week has arrived: Thursday, 8pm EST. Thankfully, according to Wikipedia, we are now halfway through the series. Of course, since the same site has declared me dead three times, I question if it is actually telling the truth here.
And to those curious if I am still amongst the living, I can inform you I am alive and…well…reviewing Legends House.
See what I did there? I didn’t use “well” in its most popular sense, as an adverb:
Rather, I am using “well” as an exclamation:
Yeah! The manners of some people! Putting out a completely ludicrous and horrible show such as this that I sit through each week! I mean, yeah, no network thought it was worth a crap and wanted to pay for it so it sat on the shelf for two years, but still, REALLY!
Thankfully, I do this not alone, but with my Facebook friends, who join me for running commentary. For some reason I watch this show even on the weeks I am NOT scheduled to review it, so join us next week, won’t you?
Ok, think I’ve dilly dallied long enough. Time to tear into this thing. To quote Homer Simpson, “Feeling stupid? I know I am!”
Previously on Legends House…Tony Atlas went to sleep!
Why didn’t we all do the same?
This week begins with TENSION in the house, as the simmering feud behind Tony and Hacksaw is beginning to become more heated. I’ve spent the last four weeks trying to figure out why there is any tension between the two with no luck, but if this show has taught me one thing, it’s that these men don’t just not like each other, but are in fact BITTER ENEMIES and that a bloodbath involving FISTICUFFS is eminent. If you say so, Legends House!
Tony and Hillbilly understand the severity involved here, and have decided to attempt to bring peace to the house via a Mexican grocery store meat counter. They get pigs feet, pig tails, pig nose…heck, why not a whole pig head?
The sight of this causes Mrs. Deal not to flee the room in horror, but rather to channel her inner Darren McGavin and slowly note, “It’s…smiling at me.” Seriously, she even paused when she did it.
Sadly Tony opts not to bring the pig head back to the house. He does, however, purchase approximately $47,000 worth of other assorted pig byproduct. (Again, the dated nature of the show is on display here. If the show had been filmed after the week Vince has just had, they’d have likely had to settle for ten bucks of roller dogs at the local gas station.)
Tony and Hillbilly proudly display their swine cornucopia, first to Jimmy Hart. He’s unimpressed to say the least, especially when he’s informed that bull penis is on tonight’s menu.
No, it really isn’t. Here, you kids be the judge. Anyway, it’s back to beans and potatoes for Jimmy for dinner. Duggan also unimpressed. Gene thumbs down. Finkel says no. Piper: “If we have a whole bull, why do I want to eat its d!ck?” I should note that Pat is nowhere to be seen, which leads me to believe that he’s off somewhere cooking those cabbage balls that he started four weeks ago.
It’s funny, at nearly the exact same time Justin posted that, Mrs. Deal was on the phone with one of her friends and said the following: ” “Ugh…trying to ignore this stupid show he (RD) is watching.” Maybe she was talking to Justin’s wife. Hmmm…
Next, Ashley shows up and calls the guys out to the pool. This leads to oodles of gratuitous shots of her in an itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini as Gene gawks on without end. If WWE is really looking for new shows for this thing, a Legends House spinoff called “Gene Okerlund: Super Perv” could be mildly amusing.
Ashley notes that the legends “look great!”
That’s a lie so blatant it makes Hogan’s claims that Andre was 800 pounds at Mania III seem viable in comparison.
We are then informed the legends are going to do some water aerobics, and we are introduced to Ann-Britt, a woman Ashley says is from Palm Springs but has an accent so thick it requires subtitles. Naturally, this leads us (meaning my Facebook friends, not the legends) to assume she she is in fact a Nazi.
So the guys bob up and down in the water as the Hydra swim instructor yells at them for being lazy. Every bit as thrilling as it sounds. Actually, it’s more bothersome than thrilling, as viewers are treated to underwater shots of said activity. I mean, I love Howard Finkel and all, but I really don’t need to see him fondling a water noodle between his legs like its a bull penis.
Somehow, the legends (and viewers) survive this, and are now informed that they’ll be doing an art show. The group is given paint and canvases with the task of coming up with something they can sell with the proceeds benefitting (an unnamed and thus likely non-existent) charity. Everyone wants Tony’s help because, according to Hacksaw, “he’s a good drawer!” There’s a joke in there about a cabinet or something, but this show has consumed any intelligence I had at the start of it so me too dumb to make it. Anyway, Tony wants no part of working with them, as art is his relaxation and he doesn’t want a bunch of nitwits taking that away from him. Smart man.
And yes, I realize I just dubbed Tony Atlas a smart man. Yikes.
Anyway, the others go off to make something, and after who knows how long plotting, scheming, and painting, this would be the end result:
If they dub it “Hand Prints and Paper Plate”, I will forgive them. And honestly, I have no room to mock, as Blade and I once put a paper plate up for auction on eBay of the “script” of the first “RD and Blade Show.” Had we smothered it in watercolor, we probably could have doubled our take on it.
As you will recall, Tony ran off to do his own thing…
…and it’s a sad clown painting.
While Hillbilly gushes over it (“this piece will give us validity!”), Jimmy Hart does not share his enthusiasm: “You know, on a scale of 1 to 10, I think the clown painting is about a 3.” Seems awful generous to me. That thing is horrifying.
To the gallery we go, but sadly, no one is there, as the art fair is 2 blocks away. Undeterred, Jimmy grabs his microphone and goes old school carnie barking people down the street and into the building. Ashley shows up and notes that she is really proud of their artwork. Jeez, they should have sent her out on the street, as that’s a carnie lie if I ever heard one.
Anyway, people bid on the crap, and supposedly allegedly money is made for the charity. Whatever.
Ugh, this show this show this show.
It’s horrible, and I think it gets worse every single week. I will say this however – when I’m on my death bed, I will always remember that I spent 45 minutes of my life watching a show where Tony Atlas gave us this piece of art.
Then I too will be a sad clown.