Whenever he's on Countdown, I watch him with my jaw dropped. I don't understand why he (or anyone else) thinks he's even a little bit funny. The only way to know he's telling a "joke" is that he stops babbling momentarily. The resulting uncomfortable silence is your signal to "laugh."
You really want to punish Paris Hilton? Forget prison. Trap her in an elevator for 45 days with this imbecile.
The clip below is, believe it or not, one of his least uncomfortable appearances. Still, anyone who does comedy for a living will tell you it's not a good sign when you have to follow a joke with "these are the jokes" or (even worse) "remember that?"
Last night, with Alison Stewart (no laugh riot herself), he said that Howard K. Stern "cried through two funerals using a pill for a Kleenex." I've parsed it, I've diagrammed it, I've sent it to the Mayo Clinic, and I still can't detect where in that sentence a joke is hiding.
Here's how unfunny I think Michael Musto is: I would rather watch Mark Russell open for Carlos Mencia than sit through even a half hour of Michael Musto. And I would rather walk on broken glass on my tongue than do any of the above.
But for some reason, this giggly, jiggly squeal-monkey is embraced by New York. Can someone there tell me why? Please?
Saturday, May 12, 2007