Slow Night for Television

After a depressing evening of sitting at Natasha’s house watching the Bears lose to some other team, which apparently means they can’t go on to the World Series, I was a little agitated.
“Why did you make me come over here? I don’t even care about football to begin with, I haven’t watched a game all season, and now my stomach’s all upset. I feel angry and I’ve got nowhere to direct it.”
“Don’t take it out on me! I didn’t think it would be like this. It just seemed like something we should do. Here – maybe something good is on TV and we can forget all about that game.”
After flipping around for a few minutes, we caught the tail end of Extreme Makeover – Home Edition, which just made us angrier because they just kept flashing to the shot of that one guy with glasses as he would wipe away tears.
“Maybe if they would stop crying so damn much and just work on the house, they wouldn’t be so worried about not finishing on time!” Nat screamed.
“Yeah, stupid bunch of crybabies.”
“I did totally cry at that one a few weeks ago, though, where the mom had died.”
“Oh yeah, and they made that memorial for her? I totally cried.”
Once the big reveal was over, we flipped through a few more channels – trough full of cow’s blood on Fear Factor, period piece snoozefest on Masterpiece Theatre, sci-fi teeny-boppers on Supernatural – before almost giving up.
Nat was circling back to the beginning of her limited non-cable channels when suddenly we heard something that stopped us in our tracks.
“I’m a 57-year old menopausal lady, which most of you know brings things like fatigue, insomnia… I would get migraines, and in between migraines I would get daily headaches, and then I really reached the climax. I got cluster headaches. I thought there was no hope whatsoever, until I discovered Dr. Ho.”
Dr. Ho? We were immediately hooked.
During the 20+ minute infomercial, Natasha and I learned that Dr. Ho had devoted his life to the study of natural medicine. He was disappointed in the limited results of many therapeutic devices on the market designed to help patients with chronic pain, so along with a group of very innovative engineers, he developed Dr. Ho’s Muscle Massage System!
Although skeptical at first, as I watched unpaid testimonial after unpaid testimonial, I started to become a believer. Within twenty minutes, these people were relieved of the chronic pain that decades of highly addictive painkillers had not assuaged.
It all seemed so easy to use – simply attach the electrodes with gel pads to the area of your body that is bothering you, and Dr. Ho’s revolutionary invention sends electrical shocks in controlled bursts to the afflicted area. The number of uses for this magical machine were mind-boggling:

  • Arthritis!
  • Foot pain!
  • Fibromyalgia!
  • Carpal tunnel!
  • Post-stroke paralysis!
  • TMJ headache!
  • Sciatica!
  • Insomnia!

I elbowed Nat in the arm and said, “You know what use they keep leaving out?”
“Sexual frustration.”
Nat rolled her eyes and said, “Whatever.”
“Oh, please. Like this thing wasn’t invented for that? Give me a break. Controlled bursts of electricity? Why don’t they just come out and say that you can use it on your hoo-ha?”
“You mean your cha-cha?”
“Yeah, your gee-gaw.”
Nat paused for a second, then asked, “Isn’t a gee-gaw like a knick-knack?”
“Is it? I don’t know – I got confused. I mean like your privates.”
“Okay, you did not just say ‘privates.’ What are you, twelve?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Ho. I didn’t realize that ‘cha-cha’ was the official anatomical term.”
A few more testimonials went by, and I started to feel a pinch in my shoulder. It’s where I always hold my stress, I’ve been told. I looked over at Nat and said, “Hey, maybe we should get one of these things. I’m kind of intrigued.”
“Yeah, me too. But it’s like $200 – I’m not paying that!”
“We could split the cost, go halfsies maybe?”
“Uh, yeah I don’t think so. Especially now that I know what you want to do with it…”
The infomercial ended, I packed up my things, and headed home. I still felt a bit of the pent up rage from earlier in the evening, but clung to the knowledge that if I made it home within the next 30 minutes, Dr. Ho would reduce the price and offer me his wonderful system for just three easy payments of $49.95 each.
It turned out to be a good night, indeed.

21 Responses to “Slow Night for Television”

  1. Dave2 Says:

    Dr. Ho is a MAN… so you mean your pee-pee.

  2. Chris Says:

    You have to question the motives of a man who goes by the name Dr. HO! He’s like some kind of James Bond super villian pimp.
    “Dr. Ho, I suppose you expect me to climax?”
    “No Mr. Bond I expect you to die!”

  3. asia Says:

    I have a friend who got that kind of pain reliever for about 35.99 in sparkly pink.

  4. jenny Says:

    Dave2: Oh I’m so embarrassed! You’re right… I meant to say wee-wee.
    Chris: Well, Dr. Ho did convince millions of people to voluntarily shell out $150 to be mildly electrocuted, so I guess that would qualify him as an evil genius!
    asia: So… did your friend say that this relieved her pain? I’m just wondering, ’cause I have another friend who’s looking for a good pain reliever… call me!

  5. Sarah Says:

    Oh, Jen. You should never hang out with friends who don’t have cable.
    You’ve just unearthed one of my most horrible repressed memories. Several years after my grandmother died and the house was to be sold, my mom was in charge of going through her stuff. I was quite young, surely not older than 10. She had a giant walk in closet, and I was having the time of my life digging through her stuff to take what she wanted to take.
    I was instructed by my grandfather that I could have anything I wanted.
    Inside of a hatbox, I found the 1950’s electronic cure for pain caused by fibromyalgia, post-stroke paralysis and insomnia…”I’m taking this!” I said to my mom, totally pumped at the idea of nightly foot massages.
    My mom took one look at what was in my hands, her face turned to pure horror and she practically flew across the room screaming, “Put that back and don’t touch it!!!”
    I hope I never die.

  6. The Scarlett Says:

    Caution: this is a comment for mature audiences only. Also, this comment is not spam but is an unpaid testimonial.
    It’s called a ‘Rabbit Pearl’ and it costs $79.95. (Link not inserted here because I was, er, busy.) And I think it works much, much, much better than an hoo-ha stimulating, private manipulating, Dr. Ho endorsed thingy.

  7. shari Says:

    So this Ho doctor is making it his life’s work to relieve the pain of ho’s with hoo-ha stimulants? Gawd, I can see why it’s kinda like that one episode of Extreme Home Makeover, how it could make you cry at the selflessness of it all… Gee, your blog is so inspiring!

  8. Cheryl Says:

    One more for the list: My Spanish-speaking friends refer to the hoo-ha/cha-cha as “cosita” (literally “little thing”).

  9. jenny Says:

    Sarah: I think it was good for you to dig up this repressed memory. I’ve saved you thousands of dollars in therapy, trust me.
    TS: I knew it wasn’t spam because you didn’t mention T3xas H0ld ‘em p0k3r.
    Shari: I’m glad I can inspire someone. I want this to be a place of learning.
    Cheryl: Everything sounds better in Spanish, doesn’t it?

  10. Anonymous Says:

    Dear Jenny,
    Ever trying to nurture your (c)literary sensibility, maybe you and Nat can work “tender button” (a la Gertrude Stein) into your repertoire of things worth buzzing.

  11. Neil Says:

    Hey, we can all learn something about salesmanship from Dr. Ho. Maybe we can sell some machine that gives shocks to the brain to improve blogging capability.
    One thing did concern me about Dr. Ho’s website. He says this:
    “Dr. Ho has devoted his life in the study of natural medicine. He believes that the body has incredible healing powers…”
    If he’s so into natural healing and the body having incredible self-healing powers, why do we need to connect it to electrodes?

  12. jenny Says:

    Viv: I didn’t want to have to take this kind of harsh line, but in the future, anyone found using the term “tender button” in reference to anything other than a mushroom will be banned from commenting on this site for a period of one week. During this time, said commentator should think about what they have done.
    Neil: “something that gives shocks to the brain to improve blogging capability…” Isn’t that called scotch? And I think the electrodes are needed to help awaken our inner healing capabilities.

  13. Anonymous Says:

    Dear Jenny,

  14. Fiorello La Guardia Says:

    I am woozing in out between thinking :::::thud:::::
    and laughing my head off.
    You young’uns ARE sooooo funny!
    Jenny, you are completely wild and unpredictable. (dialogue…Maltese Falcon)

  15. jenny Says:

    Dear Vivian,
    As my dear friend, trusted confidante, and spiritual advisor, I could never yell at you. And after our lengthy discussion on the evils of censorship in the media, I’ve decided that I have no right to stifle anyone’s creative expression. So you keep on keepin’ it real with your tender button.
    [but i still contend that “tender button” is 10x dirtier than “hoo-ha”… ;) ]
    Fio: Given the fact that I completely blushed at the term “tender button” (not to mention the fact that I’ve now typed that phrase four times), something tells me I’m anything but wild… but thanks!

  16. Jen Says:

    Panthers baby! :-)

  17. sandra Says:

    I didn’t see it and I’m sold!
    I’m actually a total infomercial junkie, known for watching advertorials from start to finish…and at some point, thinking, “well shit, how HAVE I lived this long without a rotisserie and a juicer?! No wonder I’m tired sometimes!” Fortunately, this tendency is balanced by the tendency not to spend money on absolute crap (I save it for unnecessary pants purchases).
    My favorite ad: the one for the barley-filled pillow. If I remember correctly, they dropped bowling balls on it from the roof of a building to prove its durability.

  18. Sarah Says:

    You’ve won my utter respect for telling a funny, entertaining story about two bored chicks watching late-night TV. ;-)
    And Jen? I could send you quite a few links for, uh, pain-relievers, if you’re interested. I’m not a doctor, but I play one on TV.

  19. Pants Says:

    I have a friend who calls girl privates “Chang Chang” and boy privates “Chong Chong”.
    On a slow day, I let a co-worker talk me into using an electrical massage stimulator on my hands. If Dr. Ho’s system is anything like it I suggest keeping it away from your privates. My hands went into muscle spasms and I couldn’t type for the rest of the day.

  20. teahouseblossom Says:

    So you probably don’t want to go halfsies with a friend, no matter how close, on something that you attach to your what’s-it, right?
    And it’s silly that the words in English are so childish. In Chinese I believe it’s called the golden pavilion entrance to the Jade Pagoda.

  21. Hap Says:

    Sure, it’s nice to eat at the golden pavilion, but Jade Pagoda also offers carryout. (Avoid their delivery; it’s not always fresh by the time it reaches you.)