Things I never want to see again

I want to get this post in before the holiday arrives, and in fact, I'm reluctant to even do it at all, but I think talking about these things is the only way I will be able to purge them from my mind--in other words, by dumping them on you.

Let me alert sensitive readers and parents of young children that this post may contain shocking imagery that is entirely unsuitable for some individuals. The Classic TV Christmas Festival is on deck, and I want to warn those who enjoy that good, wholesome blogging entertainment that this entry here is not along those lines.

AHEM. 3 things I saw this past week which I never, ever want to see again:

1) Danny Devito emerging nude from the back of a leather couch on "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." Yeah, there was a context for this. Didn't make it any less alarming. Won't make it any less disturbing for me relating it or for you reading it. Was it funny? Yep, but some might argue spontaneous vomiting on oneself while sitting fully clothed on one's own non-leather couch is also funny. In that case, some would be wrong.

2) Even worse than that sight--which at least had some comic value and advanced the story in a manner of speaking--was what I saw while flipping through the Showtime channels the other night. Oh, if only I had followed the advice of the immortal Larry Sanders and maintained a strict "no flipping" policy. Instead, I saw, "courtesy" of "Californication," the mere mortal Shrug (AKA Evan Handler) and the only slightly less mortal Rick Springfield double-teaming a hooker on a bed--quite possibly David Duchovny's bed, which doesn't make the scenario any more palatable.

As if the visual weren't appalling enough, Springfield chuckled and sang, "You gotta love somebody" while in the act, and, yeah, I should have turned the channel by then, but while groping for the remote in my temporary state of blindness, I found the wrong one and turned the volume up, increasing my horror.

Some of you might think Springfield singing a line from one of his hits in that situation sounds kind of funny, and of course that's what the show was going for there, a certain postmodern kind of shock humor. But I was too busy crying to start any kind of laugh response.

3) As you can tell if you've made it this far, I've been through a lot this week. So it was the last straw when I saw an AP headline about New York Jets coach Rex Ryan: "Ryan won't discuss foot-fetish report." No, no, no. Enough is enough, damn it. I'm tempted to shut down all access to the outside world and curl up with a stack of "Ozzie and Harriet" episodes until Christmas.