What's eating Jon Stewart?

What ever happened to Thursday night?

It used to be a night you could count on. One where the buzz of hoop-dreams, sex-dreams, and alcohol begin their three-day harvest; ultimately, morphing into a weekend-reality series full of stories you share with you friends for years and years. Stories that cost you a girl's phone number, disappoint your parents, and cost you a promotion 30 years down the road because of a well-documented perma-Facebook profile. 

Sure, there has been our fair share of threats to the lively existence of tomfoolery on a Thursday night. In recent history, many of you remember select saloon(s) slowly Scrooging the Tiny Tim's and Bob Cratchit's of alcoholism out of cheap drink specials. But, like a ball in a cup toy, there was no need to worry. We had plenty of other resources to achieve proper drunkenness at a palatable price: exploring the Hawkeye/Paramount/5 O'Clock family of spirits, theft, befriending people with well-paying jobs, and the classic--fasting for 24 hours prior to your first drink. You get the picture. All you need is some crass, well thought-out creativity to get out of debacles like that. 

No more.

That's right, we have a new Thursday evening squabble. You all know of the current situation with which each and every one of our television sets presents us: reruns. More importantly, it presents us with reruns on that very special day of the week--Thursday; most specifically The Office. No, not "special" like Ruke Fier at Trout Fry. No. I'm saying "two-scoops-of-raisins in your Raisin Bran" special. The stuff episodes of The Office are made of.  

Remember the way you kicked a hole in a wall to bring continuity to the character of Andy into real life? Or how Oscar brought your gay-quota up to code at a party? Remember how excited you were when Pam finally let her hair down...for good? 

Remember that one time you cried (or peed) a little bit during the finale of season 2, and you had to wipe the emotions away with a brown paper sack, and a gob of duct tape that was securing your hands to a pair of 40's? 

Remember that one time the big TV networks gave writers poor compensation for their efforts and tried to avoid it like that one time you hit a pedestrian in the crosswalk with your car and then just drove away? The big TV networks remember. But the TV networks aren't going to back down, free of serious negotiation. Maybe the writers buy some distinctive Malano cookies for the networks big whigs. Maybe this whole thing just disappears.

If only it were that easy. If only I really cared about the writers or the networks or what the hell they can't agree upon. All I know is that reruns of The Office are starting to feel stale. Kinda like that relationship you had in high school where you thought she was hot, but after dating her for a while, it's like, "who gives a shit?"

I think that I would rather watch the entire catalogue of Olive Garden commercials consecutively on loop, than suffer through the heartbreak of reruns with no prospective episodes in sight. 

Why should I be so selfish? Why should I complain? I shouldn't. I could watch Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?

Hell, while we're at it, why don't we get some of the amateur writers who aren't part of the union to write some spin-offs. 

Who Can Hold a Straight Face on Live Television Longer After a Penis Joke: Jimmy Fallon or a 5th Grader?

What else? Oh. Well, whether most people like to admit it, Full House was a huge hit. And an inspiration to many. Hmmm:

Emo House

A house full of emotionally depressed caucasian citizens live in a prosperous, upper-middle class neighborhood. Even though each member of the house has been graced with loving families, affectionate girlfriends, substantial fortunes, and a bill of clean health, these zeroes strive for extreme sorrow. Can this group of failures group together and reach euphoric levels of sadness? What a paradox!

Uncle Joey: Cast off the show. ("Cut it out! You make me kind of happy when you tell those jokes.")

Uncle Jesse: Played by Chris Carrabba. His musical "Elvis"?  Dashboard Confessional. Hairstyle? Mullet draped in front of one eye. His catch phrase? "No mercy."

Danny: Lasts one episode. This time, rather than being overly neat and obsessive compulsive, Danny is suicidal. Emo enthusiasts go wild.

Until then, we can only hold out hope for an end to the writers' talks. As for your Thursday's entertainment, give the Mitchell report a shot in the afternoon. Dozens of all-stars, Hall of Fame candidates, who juiced--among others--will be revealed. Your favorite player go down in the mess? Now you've got a good reason to drink Thursday afternoon. ESPN will have coverage from 12pm-6pm CST. Enjoy ya damnselves.

Spagett!

On the next Nine Dollars the Nine Dollars Investigation Team dissects a popular heap of animal droppings that people are paying $14 for. Some people call it Sawdust by The Killers. We'll find out why.