Sixteen Episodes

André and I ran into each other last night with nothing in particular planned. So we grabbed a case of Beck’s Green Lemon and chips and decided to just lock in with South Park. Sixteen episodes. Straight through. In English.

The show was absolutely relentless. Paris Hilton with a pineapple in places that shouldn’t be possible. Mr. Slave following up with his own unspeakable additions. Butters out here committing mass murder entirely by accident. The kids declaring war on the Chinese mafia for fun. Stan getting coerced into sex with a llama because he won’t vote. Al Gore just wants everyone dead. Butters becomes a woman. Eric goes through this whole bit where he thinks he’s dead and then starts shitting out fake jewelry. Chef gets impaled and torn apart for trying to seduce children. The entire town turns gay because time-traveling unemployed people exist. Every single plot thread just escalated further into complete derangement. I was laughing so hard at some points I could barely function.

By hour five my right arm was absolutely destroyed. Not from what you’re thinking. From holding a beer bottle steady for five straight hours. We got through the entire case.

They took our jobs.