I call BS. This cartoon is in his twenties.
Week three of Scott’s Baio’s leaf over-turning spectacle has approached us. That means Scott is just over one third of his way through the 8 week Doctor-
Ali-Settle-Down-Program. One third. One third of the way is a big deal if you ask me. One third of the way through rehab, Britney Spears had already signed in and out twice, and got herself a new boyfriend. One third of the way through my Friday evening and I’m already on my 4th stoli vanilla and diet coke, telling myself that these heels ARE worth this pain, and unsuccessfully trying to talk myself out of drunk dialing as I slur, “Guess who thiiiiiis iiiiiissss?..”
You see where I’m going with this. One third means progress. Well, except when we’re talking about Scott Baio. One third of the way through the commitment version of what they politely refer to in elementary school as “special help”, and where’s Scott? He’s in Palm Springs with Johnny Leftovers spending time with girls ONE THIRD his age. So much for progress. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but Scott Baio is 45. And Single. Imagine that.
Episode two of the show opens with Scott and Doc Ali discussing Scott’s views on marriage. Doc Ali asks, “Do you see marriage as freeing, or bondage?” Uh, Doc, what’s with the useless line of questioning? If he saw marriage as freeing would VH1 be documenting his commitment issues? Who’s the professional here? Maybe Scott should have gone with the feng shui life coach after all. At least she could have moved some body parts around. Seems to me what Scott really needs is a foot to the ass.
If marriage was a cartoon character, would it be a Care Bare or the Grinch that Stole Christmas?
Scott tells Doc Ali a story about when he dated Julie McCullough. Julie McCullough was the nanny on Growing Pains, and a playboy playmate who apparently suffered a number of cheating episodes courtesy of our own Scott Baio. When Julie discovered that Scott was dating two girls at the same time, she and the mistress sent a Christmas card to Scott featuring the two of them giving the finger. Bush league Jill McCullough! Carrie Underwood slashes tires and smashes headlights when faced with cheaters. Step your game up. Crack a rib or something.
Upon Doc Ali’s request, Scott goes to visit Julie, who, since her Playboy playmate days couldn’t last forever, has become a stand up comedian. Only problem is that she’s really not funny. The only time I laughed at her is when they showed a close up of her bangs.
Good one, Julie!
Playboy playmates are useful for many things, but speaking is probably number 23 on the list. Joke telling being number 35. I’m convinced that on a nightly basis, the owner of that comedy club hands her the microphone, makes the sign of the cross on himself and then silently prays that she’ll do something sexually inappropriate with the mic on stage. I mention this to Manuel from Sears Housewares, who tells me that his mother says rosaries for people like me. I tell him that they make medication for people like his mother, and my relationship with Manuel is officially over.
Scott, Johnny Leftovers and Wayne Arnold all attend Julie’s “show”, but when Scott realizes that Julie’s “routine” is centered around what an awful human being Scott Baio is, Scott’s out of there faster than you can say, “please swallow the microphone, Amen” and Scott decides to meet Julie back-stage, after the “performance.” It’s a good thing too, because at this point I’m out of quotation markable words to describe what she calls “working”.
During their rendezvous, Julie tells Scott between gulps of bud light that she got her first AIDS test because of him. “That’s how many times you cheated on me.” Two questions struck me at this point: 1. How many AIDS tests has this girl had that she needed to clarify that it was her first; and 2. Why in the world did she keep dating Scott after the first round of cheating? Did she get to his apartment after he cheated the first time, find a used condom on the floor and say to herself, “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about the HIV…”?
Scott apologizes to Nanny Crazypants who surprisingly forgives him, but even Scott thinks she’s a loony toon, because when they hug he blocks his package in fear that she’s going to knee him. I think it’s fair to say as a general rule that if a person fears for their bodily health around you, you’ve made some less than acceptable decisions in your life. Ditto for wearing that scarf and hat of hers.
Blood test time! Ah, just like the old days.
After the wrath of Julie McCullough, Scott decides he needs a vacation, so he, Johnny Leftovers, and the gang head down to Palm Springs, where they meet up with some twenty somethings at a bachelorette party. All the girls want to be around Scott, but Johnny Leftovers is of course milking the “I know Charles in Charge” thing as if he runs a dairy and gets paid by the gallon. I think he’s secretly just hoping a woman will face him long enough for him to get a good visual to work with later on by himself. I decided he’s not so much into immediate leftovers, per se, he’s more into stored leftovers he can take home with him and dip into later. Maybe his new name should be Johnny Tupperware.
Johnny be Glad
Johnny, clearly a firm believer in the power of beer goggles, tries to make drinks for everyone. Scott is so turned off by Johnny Leftovers’ antics and the fact that these girls were (gasp) born in the eighties, that he decides to leave and go to bed, and then the girls threaten to leave if Scott leaves. Johnny begs Scott to stay in a way that is so confusing and painful to watch, it reminds me of how I feel when I’m watching one of those Sally Struthers commercials where the kids are clearly starving, and yet they never think to take a bite out of one of the fruit flies that are sitting on their foreheads. It’s true what Manuel says about me. I’m a sick, sick person. But seriously. If you’re hungry…Beggers can’t be choosers.
I need to deflect the negativity away from myself and the horrific thought that just crossed my mind, so I resort to accusing Johnny Leftovers of over acting. He can’t REALLY be like that. It HAS to be an act. I hate the idea of being cynical or making false accusations, but I’d rather be an accusatory cynic than believe that a man as desperate as Johnny Leftovers could truly exist. It’s just too unbelievable. I’d rather believe that Brad Pitt was faithful to Jennifer Aniston.
As he’s leaving the bachelorette party to go back to his room, Scott tries to pat himself on the back for walking away from the girls and even starts crediting Doc Ali for the strides she’s made with him. I’d love to go along with Scott on this one, but I think the reality is that the sight of Johnny Leftovers tempting young girls with gin was just too nauseating, even for a Scott. And I don’t think nausea qualifies as progress unless you’re a model.
The next morning, Scott goes to visit an old couple who are friends of Doc Ali’s and have been married for fifty something years. Scott is supposed to talk to them and learn something positive about marriage. The couple cooks some food for Scott, and then they tell him how much they love each other that they’ve rarely, if ever fought in fifty years. Scott and I both think that’s a bunch of crap. So instead of learning something positive about marriage, Scott finds himself unable to relate to the old couple, and leaves Palm Springs only being positive that he hates pickled eggs. And I leave episode two only being positive that I am one third on my way to hell.
If this ass doesn’t make you wanna settle down, nothing will.