Friday, February 19, 2016

Gaffe, again.

I'm not looking to pick another fight with comedian Jim Gaffigan, I'm really not.

As you may recall, we had a falling out last November over certain statements of his about the comparison of child- and dog-rearing. I also expressed some dismay over his horning on author territory with his best-selling books. You keeping making the chuckles on stage, funnyboy, and leave the best-sellers to those of us who would sell our teeth and have our nose hairs pulled out to have our books on the lists. 

My latest concern isn't about Gaffigan's success with his TV show---that's fine, that's what comedians should do, and I'm glad for him. Nor is it about his taking over as the third in the endless line of Colonel Sanders impersonators---considering his unhealthy lust for food, this may be the part he was born to play.

No, my concern is his disdain for the bit that made him a national figure, a national hero---the Hot Pockets bit.


You read that right: Hot Pockets Limited Edition.

Limited Editions should be reserved for things like luxury sedans and dumb boots you can't wear in the snow, or at least pumpkin spice-flavored variations on consumer products in October, not frozen snacks with chili powder in them.

This is hilarious! This is stupid! This is right in Gaffigan's wheelhouse!

And yet, there is silence.

He got tired of being the "Hot Pockets Guy."

We are left without our champion in our time of need.

I think I've gone far enough here presenting my case. I don't wish to be brusque or appear mean or harsh, but now it's time for Gaffigan to respond. There is much forgiveness in my heart, and I'm sure America waits to reward him for taking on this latest Hot Pockets-themed offense. But he must make the next move.

"Hot Pockets: Limited Edition" -- come on!

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