Grosse Pointe
Satisfaction

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Erin: D | Grade It Now!
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It's Called A Vibrator, Honey. Look It Up.

At the same time, Johnny's in his trailer, watching dailies that mainly consist of him being soaking wet and shirtless. Dave enters, dejected because Shapiro's been fired, which means he's right back to Dave The Stand-In status. Johnny responds to the news that poor Dave's missed his break with the heartfelt statement, "Hey, you know what you should do? Go to her office and see if you can score me that chair." Dave doesn't like this idea. He warms to it after Johnny offers to order them a pizza. Dave goes to retrieve the chair, stopping only to ask Johnny not to get onions on the pizza because they give him a stomachache. "But dude," says Prince Among Men, "I like onions." Dave shakes his head at his current miserable existence and wanders off in search of finer sitting.

Meanwhile, in a land far, far away...Tori2's in bed, the present's been unwrapped, there's a glass of champagne on the side table, and there's a look of divine contentment upon Tori2's face. She picks up the phone and dials. "Hey Court? It's me. So, guess what?" And then she just giggles and giggles and giggles. See. I told you. Other women do it too. And this is the point when angels on high sing hallelujah, because I am now dropping the moniker of "Tori2" and graduating her to "Marcy." Come on. She's a woman now. She deserves it.

Back in Foodtopia, Rob's scraping down a bowl of mac 'n' cheese while bitching about being up half the night rewriting some godawful scene. Since most of the show within a show scenes are god awful, I don't really know to which specific scene he's referring. When Rob starts to watch the dailies, we learn just what scene he's talking about. The "locker room" scene. He's apparently rewritten it so that it's all scantily-clad teenage girls and they all get into a little cat fight or some such shit. Way to ignore your demographic, Robbo. I don't know why you watched shows like 90210 and Melrose Place, but I watched them because they were stupid and had guys with good butts. The only reason any guys I knew ever watched those shows was because they were drunk and in my apartment and I was challenging them to drink an entire beer every time Heather Locklear wore a short skirt or fucked someone on her desk. Which reminds me, I'd better make that phone call. Either that or run out and pick up some more batteries...

Next week: Dickless gets a fan in the form of some twelve-year-old boy who apparently harbors homoerotic fantasies about our hero. Note to self: Get another bucket.

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Grosse Pointe

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