I do not outwardly dislike old people. This is because when I do outwardly dislike them, they tend to shake their walkers at me, accuse me of being “ageist,” and then wander off, forgetting what they were yelling at me about in the first place.

HOWEVER! I do outwardly like certain old people, such as Betty White—one of the original Golden Girls, who just so happens to be turning a peppy 90-years-young this week. Why do I prefer Ms. White over other nonagenarians? Well, for one, she’s never squirted her colostomy bag at me during an argument. And secondly, Golden Girls! And The Mary Tyler Moore Show! And of course her greatest role, as the potty-mouthed old lady Mrs. Bickerman in the 1999 man-eating crocodile horror flick Lake Placid, in which she utters the two greatest lines of cinematic history: “If I had a dick, this is where I would tell you to suck it,” and “Thank you, officer fuck meat.”

Welcome to 2012—and I’ve got another New Years’ resolution all ready to add to your list. I think you need to do a better job at expressing affection—primarily towards me. This can be accomplished in a number of ways: 1) Erotic poetry and/or fan fiction. Send me more erotic poetry, or if you have trouble rhyming, simply write some lengthy erotic fan fiction involving me dry boning a historical character. Here’s a sample from my erotic fan fiction novel entitled, Got a Hankerin’ for Ben Frank-er-lin:

“Ben Franklin felt lonely as he stepped out of the shower. Rubbing the rough towel over his moist naked body, he was struck by the realization he hadn’t felt the soft caressing touch of a lover since that cold, cold winter he dry boned Betsy Ross. Suddenly… the bathroom door flew open. It was Wm.™ Steven Humphrey dressed as a British Redcoat! “Ha-Haaa!” Humphrey noisily purred, his bulging groin pulsating with sexual intent. ‘Me thinks a certain founding father is in need of a patriotic dry boning!’”

Here are some things I said in 2011. Providing “context” doesn’t really help my case.

On Batman:

Attaching a cape to a cowl is the stupidest thing ever. One step on your cape, and NECK SNAP! Stephen Hawking’s teaching you how to use your fancy new wheelchair.

On I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant:

It’s filled with dramatic re-creations of women who had no earthly idea they were preggo, until one day, whoopsie! Plop! Heyyyyy… why is my toilet crying?

[Hey person reading this! I’m on vacation this week… so here’s a classic holiday edition of I Love Television™ to stick in your stocking. And by “stocking” I mean “anus.” Happy holidays!—Humpy]

ATTENTION: There are serious problems with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Therefore I will elucidate on those problems (and how they can be corrected) in three… two… one… GO!

Dear television in my living room: First I’d like to apologize for the stains on your screen—both you and I know how they got there, so I don’t see any reason to discuss it further, other than to say, “I’m sorry.” Secondly, I’d like to thank you for the best gift any wise-assed TV critic could hope for, American Horror Story, which you’ve thankfully been providing me for the past few months. Even though it was created by the same person who dreamed up and eventually ruined Glee (that would be Ryan Murphy), AHS is hands down the best new show of the season. Not only does this campy psycho-sexual creep fest feature terrific acting from all involved (especially freaky next door neighbor Jessica Lange), and at least one “OMIGOD, I’ve never seen that before on television” moment during every episode, it also regularly showcases Dylan McDermott’s naked bottom AND is the only series I can think of that co-stars a rubber-suited gimp demon. (Not counting Two and a Half Men, of course.)

Look, I get it. I’m not the most popular guy in the world. But with the people I am popular with? I’m INSANELY popular. For example; women’s prisons. They love me in women’s prisons. I’m just as big with the “lazy inebriate” set. And the “people who have lost the will to live” demographic also hold me in the highest regard.

So why am I furiously envious? Because apparently my “Barbara Walters” popularity numbers have crapped the bed! GOD!! WHOSE TRUMPET DO I HAVE TO BLOW TO IMPRESS THIS OLD BIDDY??

Every year Walters releases her “Most Fascinating People” list, and every year I’M NOT ON IT. Babs will be interviewing her picks in the exhaustingly entitled Barbara Walters Presents: The 10 Most Fascinating People of 2011 this coming Wednesday, Dec 14 on ABC at 9:30 pm—but what kidnaps and decapitates my goat is that the people she chose are waaaaaaay less “fascinating” than yours truly!

“Oh, Wm.™ Steven Hump-Me!” I hear you cry. “Not another column about hillbillies!” OH, YES INDEEDY! But don’t blame me for my obsession with drooling, toothless hill folk. It’s a scientific fact there are more TV shows about hillbillies than any other topic. TV looooves the hillbilly—and why not? Other than housewives and people from New Jersey, hillbillies are the last American culture everyone can laugh at, without fear of politically correct reprisal.

“Oh, Wm.™ Steven Hump-Me!” I hear you cry again. “That is CLASSIST.” Ha! I agree. It’s totally classic. “NO, I said, ‘CLASSIST’!” Oh… well… so what if it is?? Hillbillies revel in their individuality and being different from “them gol’durn cityfolk”—so I think they’re being classist toward us!

Ohhhhh, you classist hillbillies! With your high-falutin’ moonshine, and fancy hound dogs! You think you’re sooooo great, don’t you? “Ooooh, look at me, I’m a hillbilly! Unlike those stuffed shirts in the biiiiiiig city, I can wear filthy overalls all day long, lose all my teeth, and refuse to conform to society’s rigid standards on who or what I copulate with! (And by ‘who or what,’ I of course mean ‘cousin Lulu’ and ‘the farm hog.’) Oooooh, ain’t I so much better than you smarty-pants cityfolk?”

Let me tell you a little about the insides of my stomach. Recently I took a trip to the Southern United States—for the record, “Florida” is not in the south any more than “Cuba” is in the south—and I’m pretty sure they tried to poison me. WITH DELICIOUSNESS. “Poisoning via deliciousness” is an especially cruel and sneaky way of killing someone. Apparently word got around that I make fun of hillbillies… a lot… and while these Southern people acted very nice to my face, their sole intent was obviously to shovel delicious poison down my gullet until I collapsed under the weight of my own duodenum—with a small stream of gravy trickling from my anus.

Anyway! Luckily for you, those goddamn hillbillies didn’t kill me with their never ending plates of barbeque ribs, banana pudding, red beans and rice, fried chicken, hush puppies, baked beans, potato salad, mac ‘n’ cheese, cornbread, fried pickles, mashed potatoes and the accompanying boats of “trickling” gravy. But it was close. On the day I left the south, my blood pressure reading was 199 over 110—which most medical practitioners recognize as “legally dead.” What those hillbillies didn’t know is that I always carry a portable enema kit/water cannon for just such an occasion. Two blasts later and BOOYAH! There’s not a speck of fried chicken or pecan pie left in my colon, and I’m back to making off-color remarks about hillbillies, their kissin’ cousins, and other various barnyard lovers.

When it comes to award ceremonies, there is nothing worse than the People’s Choice Awards—except the Sophie’s Choice Awards. (SHE MAKES THE SAME CHOICE EVERY YEAR!!!) If you ask me, you shouldn’t let “the people” decide anything—present company excluded. As a general rule, “the people” are dumber than a pool of saliva, and have absolutely no business making any decisions that actually matter. And that includes deciding which TV shows and characters are “best”!

Now the reason my thong’s all in a knot is because the nominations for the 2011 People’s Choice Awards came out this past week—and the results are particularly ignorant and drooly! Take for example “the people’s” nominations for “Favorite Network TV Drama”: There’s House, there’s Grey’s Anatomy, there’s The Good Wife, there’s Supernatural, and there’s The Vampire Diaries. THE VAMPIRE DIARIES??? I’d rather watch somebody dangle a powdered doughnut over the head of a diabetic fat kid. Now that’s drama!

I’ve spoken at annoying lengths about how Aquaman is the worst superhero in the universe. [Short version? A) Talking to fish serves absolutely no purpose unless I’m able to talk them into my mouth. B) With the small exception of Somali pirates, 98.99% of all crime happens on LAND. And C) Aquaman’s Boooooooooooooring!! End of short version.] HOWEVER! I rarely if ever talk about the second most worst superhero in the universe, Green Lantern—and I’m about to correct this grievous error.

While not nearly as terrible as Aquaman, Green Lantern is moderately to mostly terrible. Long version: A) He gets his powers from a ring. Why not a butterfly hairclip? B) His weakness is the color “yellow.” My weakness is the color “chartreuse”—especially when paired with white loafers and a floral scarf tied around the neck. In other words, Green Lantern can use his ring to move the moon out of its orbit, but he can’t capture the Gorton’s Fisherman? THAT’S BULL-POOP, MY FRIENDS!

Let’s talk… TECHNOLOGY. Now, while I am generally in favor of technological progress, there is definitely some room for improvement. Example: And I hate to play “Monday morning quarterback” here, but… before Steve Jobs died, I kinda wish he’d spent a little less time on the iPhone, and a little more time on making a FUNCTIONING INTERNET. I’m sorry, but my internet STINKS! When I flip on a light switch, does it take anywhere from ten to 45 seconds to turn on? NO! It comes on immediately. And yet, when I hit the internet porn button on my internet, I’m forced to wait… and wait… and wait—sometimes up to a full minute for it to come on! THAT AIN’T RIGHT, AND I’M TIRED OF WHAT AIN’T RIGHT!

Pro tip! Did you know there was a federal law passed this year specifically prohibiting certain “sexy” Halloween costumes? (Pro tip! This is absolutely not true—but tell everyone it is… you’ll understand why in a bit.) Thanks to recent “Anti-Halloween Annoyance” legislation passed by congress, women will no longer be allowed to dress up in any of the following annoying Halloween costumes:

Sexy French Maid. Sexy Cheerleader. Sexy School Girl. Sexy Native American. Sexy Kitten. Sexy Bee. Sexy Ladybug. Sexy Pirate. Sexy Cave girl. Sexy Policewoman. Sexy Disney Princess (any and all). Sexy Witch. Sexy Red Riding Hood. Sexy Power Ranger. Sexy Olive Oyl. Sexy Strawberry Shortcake. Sexy Eskimo. Sexy Prisoner. Sexy Angel. Sexy Devil. Sexy Angel/Devil Hybrid. Sexy Fairy. Sexy Captain America. Sexy Clown (there is absolutely nothing sexy about that by the way). Sexy Skunk. Sexy Hippie (again, nothing sexy about that). Sexy Robot. Sexy Statue of Liberty. Sexy Sherlock Holmes. Sexy Hillbilly (this goes triple for guys!!).

Example one! In the original version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Goldilocks doesn’t get a chance to try out any chairs, porridge or beds—because when the bears return home to discover the little girl in their house, they rip her apart and devour her. MORAL: Don’t break into a bear’s house if you value your intestines.

Example two! In the Disney version of Snow White, the evil queen is so jealous of Snow’s beauty, she sends her huntsman to murder her. In the Grimm version, the queen also plans on eating Snow White’s  liver and lungs for supper, and when she’s ultimately defeated at the end of the story? She’s forced to wear red-hot iron shoes, causing her to “dance herself to death.” MORAL: Cannibalism is no substitute for a good plastic surgeon.

I don’t hate “people.” I really don’t. In fact, I love “people”—as a general concept. I love them in the same conceptual way I love “hamburger sandwiches.”

Now, generally speaking, “hamburger sandwiches” are incredibly delicious and fortifying. That being said, occasionally a specific hamburger sandwich will go awry. For example, when a vegan is behind the grill, and your “hamburger” sandwich suddenly tastes like a “grass, hair, and chalk” sandwich. Or when you accidentally sleep with/impregnate the girlfriend of the cook at your favorite hamburger sandwich restaurant—and your hamburger sandwiches begin to acquire not-so-subtle “spit or semen” overtones.

(Pause. Pause. Pause.) I KNOW, ISN’T IT AMAZING?? You could play Canadian rules football on that forehead! Her forehead is so big, it’s a “fivehead.” You could write the entire Star Wars prologue on that forehead. Her forehead is so big, Republicans want to drill for oil on it. Hey Christina, IMAX called. They want to rent your forehead. Her forehead is so big, it’s got it’s own zip code (9021-oh shit, that’s a big forehead!). In 1974, Evel Knievel tried to jump her forehead. Christina’s forehead is where the National Association of Foreheads hold their annual forehead convention. What did Moses say to Christina Ricci? “Dude, I spent 40 years wandering around your forehead. So back off, I’m mad at you right now.” SHE… HAS… A BIG… FOREHEAD!!

Let’s take a moment to talk about a very serious subject: INSECURE COPS. You know, our city’s police officers have a very difficult job. (Seriously, it takes three of them just to follow me around and make sure I’m not selling coke, robbing mini-marts, or impregnating the wrong political official’s daughter.) And it’s not any easier when nearly all the cops on television are so much more awesomer than the ones in real life. What’s up with all the TV officers sporting superpowers? Examples: Forever Knight? Vampire cop! Medium? Psychic cop! The Mentalist? Cop pretending to be psychic cop! The Dresden Files? Wizard cop! Robocop: The Series? Robo-cop! Magnum P.I.? Super-sexy cop! Dexter? Serial-killer cop! Walker: Texas Ranger? Hillbilly karate cop! YOU SEE? It’s little wonder that our local police officers are quivering, insecure bowls of doughnut-eating jelly! HELLO! WHERE ARE THE NORMAL COPS??

The upcoming season of new shows isn’t shaping up much better. NBC’s Grimm features a supernaturally powered detective fighting supernaturally powered criminals! ABC’s reboot of Charlie’s Angels has three female cops with the superpowered ability to whip off their bras in under 2.5 seconds. Person of Interest on CBS involves an ex-CIA agent who stops crimes before they happen. (Top that, local cop who unwisely left the motor running in their squad car, thereby giving me the opportunity to take a joyride with four topless sorority girls and a stolen monkey from the zoo.)

Plus there’s also Unforgettable (debuting Tues Sept 20, CBS, 10 pm) which features a hotsy-totsy detective with the ability to remember everything she’s ever experienced. Now as “superpowers” go, this one kind of blows donkey horn. Sure, I’d love to remember half the names of the illegitimate children I have scattered around the USA—but on the other hand, I kinda wouldn’t. KnowwhatImean?

The point is that our local police officers are suffering a crisis of insecurity because of these shows. Without any noticeable superpowers, they no longer consider themselves “special” enough to do this very challenging work… WHICH GIVES ME AN IDEA!

What follows are just a few ideas for brand-new shows that will spotlight “normal, non-superpowered” cops. This will not only boost the confidence of our officers, but also earn me enough money to stop robbing mini-marts. EVERYBODY WINS.

• CRIME COP: A Chicago cop is the only person in his department with no discernable supernatural ability—except for one: He uses his normal brain to solve normal crimes! Not all of them, of course. About 50/50.

• THE RACIAL PROFILER: In this dramatic series, a police officer is blessed with the ability to racially profile any minority—except for her Hispanic/Filipino/Asian/African American spouse! (Did I say it’s a drama? It’s a comedy!)

• HUMP PATROL: Three full-time cops are assigned to follow me around and stop me from committing the following crimes: Dope smoking! Picking fights with circus midgets! Instigating illegal retirement home Rascal races! Stealing helicopters! Bear wrestling! Tearing tags off mattresses! Public masturbation… of elected officials! And impersonating a police officer. (See?? That’s the twist! I’m pretending to be one of the cops investigating myself! Dun-dun-DUNNNNN!!)

Got a crime? Call… CRIME COP!!

steve@portlandmercury.com

thursday 15

9:00 CW THE SECRET CIRCLE Debut! A teen moves to a new school to discover her classmates are hot, sexy, and snobby witches!

10:00 FX IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA Season premiere! Mac suddenly gains 50 lbs. while Frank wants to marry a prostitute. (In other words, another average day.)

friday 16

6:30 TOON YOUNG JUSTICE Season premiere! Green Arrow’s former sidekick gets targeted for assassination in this fun Teen Titans remake.

saturday 17

9:00 BBCA DOCTOR WHO The gang is trapped in a hotel that exposes their deepest fears—for example, what’s that sticky stuff on the bedspread??

sunday 18

8:00 FOX THE EMMY AWARDS Jane Lynch (Glee) hosts these TV awards which always excludes Toddlers and Tiaras for some reason.

10:00 AMC BREAKING BAD The family panics when Walt doesn’t show for his son’s birthday—but c’mon! Meth doesn’t cook itself!

monday 19

8:00 ABC DANCING WITH THE STARS Season premiere! A new season of Dancing brings a new season of pissing off Christians, thanks to transgender contestant Chaz Bono!

10:00 COM THE ROAST OF CHARLIE SHEEN And after this is over, we never have to speak of him again, right?

10:00 NBC THE PLAYBOY CLUB Debut! Here’s NBC’s version of Mad Men, a drama set in the early ‘60s about Hugh Hefner’s bunny farm.

tuesday 20

8:00 FOX GLEE Season premiere! The return of the best/most annoying show on TV, now supposedly 30% less annoying. (I’ll believe it when I see it.)

9:00 FOX NEW GIRL Debut! Zooey Deschanel is adorable (of course) in this new sitcom about an eccentric gal living with three bro-dudes.

wednesday 21

9:00 ABC MODERN FAMILY Season premiere! The family vacations at a Wyoming dude ranch; sexy cowboy and horse poop hijinx ensue!

10:00 ABC REVENGE Debut! A confusing new drama/soap that’s supposedly a new take on the Count of Monte Cristo. I don’t believe I ordered that.

In case you haven’t heard (or haven’t been reminded in the last 45 seconds), this coming weekend marks a very important day of remembrance for Americans—and those who hate Americans. (And NO, it’s not Free Slurpee Day at 7-Eleven!!! That was JULY 11, idiot, not SEPTEMBER 11!! Confidential to terrorists: Free Slurpee Day isn’t really important to us or anything… I mean, c’mon, right? So there’s no reason to, like… oh, I don’t know… blow it all up or something. That would be a huge waste of your time. Huge. FYI. BTW. Ahem.)

[Editor’s Note: Wm.™ Steven Humphrey is lazy and on vacation, therefore enjoy this old-timey column from the I Love Television™ crappy column vault, circa 2007.]

You know, the really interesting thing about television is… is… GodDAMMIT! Can you please put that video game controller down and listen to me? It really hurts my feelings when I try to pretend I know something about television, and YOU’RE mashing buttons on that stupid video game machine. Don’t you understand?? I have feelings! I have needs! And… NO, I will NOT move out from in front of the screen! Why don’t you MOVE OUT? OF OUR HOUSE? Need help carrying your bags? Well, ask your friend Donkey Kong! I SAID, GET OUT!!!

And while I’m definitely not one of those “Doctor Who people,” it should be noted that the show’s current incarnation is helmed by writer Steven Moffat, who cowrote the freaking BRILLIANT Sherlock reboot that aired earlier this year—so you know it’s gonna be both smarty-AND-funny pants. Plus there’s a distinct possibility, since this episode is tantalizingly entitled “Let’s Kill Hitler,” that someone’s going to… you know… kill Hitler.