Joanna is the poor man's Rosanna

Kool & the Gang usually had better songs than Toto (and they always dressed better), but I'm making an exception here.


Storytime:
When I was in 7th grade, a girl named Joanna sat in front of me in math class. I hated math. I once shit my pants during a math class, but that's another story altogether. Anyway, I used to hear that song whenever I saw Joanna (it was on the radio all the time). She was a nice enough girl, but I was never in love with her. I think she was at least 6 inches taller than me. I was a late bloomer, you see. Anyway, after 7th grade our school was divided in half as the school district was rezoning. So I went elsewhere for 8th grade and completely forgot about her...until 9th grade, when the schools merged once again. By then there were a miilion more girls (and all with breasts!) to occupy my mind besides Joanna, who I still remember fondly...even though she never knew I once crapped my pants and constantly thought of not loving her.

And that is how I became the 8th grade student council president. (true story)

P.S. The time i pooped myself in math class, I excused myself, went to the bathroom and immediately ditched the soiled underwear. In a strange way, I'm positive this is what the future holds for me too.

Earl Hindman was the poor man's Tom Poston

Thanks again to Bill. It'd been my quest to find Tom Poston's poor man doppleganger for a few months. (other people have real hobbies, I know) Anyway, I casually mentioned this to Bill, and he just came up with this answer on the spot.

This post is dedicated to Bill, and the fine people who distill the liquor he drinks.

Stuart Pankin is the poor man's Michael Tucci, who is the poor man's Saul Rubinek

I know I said "no more actors," but I'm a liar.

And anyway, they're character actors, so no foul.

Andy Williams is the poor man's Neil Sedaka (circa before I was born)

This is based on mathematical proofs. Trust me. Before going to the moon, NASA worked on this theorem for years. I've got an uncle who knows people, and they were kind enough to lend today's entry to me.

Is it just me, or does it look like Neil is checking out Andy's ass? Maybe his shoes?

G Love & Special Sauce is the poor man's Cake (circa 1994)

I was living in Portland, OR at the time, and both of these bands were part of my soundtrack. Cake edges out G Love because of their liberal use of the vibraslap.



I f&#%ing love me some vibraslap. (Coincidentally, the name of my autobiography.)

Old racist drawings of Irishmen are the poor man's Grinch

Now THIS is how you start a second year of blogging.

Long time no PMV

Hey there. Sorry for the silence. It's been damn near impossible to post anything in almost 2 weeks, and I'm hoping all tech issues are now resolved once and forever. I can't be so sure about the fuckers constructing a hi-rise in our backyard.

I've got nothing today, but here are a few reader's suggestions (sans ripped-off photos).

Coldplay < Radiohead
David Coverdale < Robert Plant
Target < Walmart
Ira Joe Fisher < Willard Scott
Dermot Mulroney < Dylan McDermott (I have to add Frank Whaley somehwhere in there, as I'm always confused about who he is)
Faith Hill < Shania Twain
AMA's < Grammys (is there a winner here?)
emails that say "amazing free meds" < emails that say "extend penis length"
Blink 182 < 311
Highway to Heaven < Touched by an Angel (I disagree. Michael Landon's hair ALONE trumps almost anything.)
James Rebhorn < James Cromwell (poor, sad James Murtaugh.) this was from Bill.

It's good to be back.

Cock-Blocking is the poor man's Urban Gentrification

So a huge 14-story condo is going up in our backyard.

Which means I'm at Kinko's again. Our cable is out. I'm pretty sure it's because of the fuckers at Verizon messing with the hodgepodge of cables snaking from our apartment building.

Our little 4-story apartment building.

Our cozy, home-y, slightly leaky and drafty, yet charming little apartment building.

A brownstone, to boot.

Which was doing just fine with their cable connection before it was decided this is where wealthier people wanted to live.

So yesterday, today, tomorrow and beyond is one big cable cock-block. In the future they will be a sunshine cock block.

grrrrrrr.

Yodels are the poor man's Ho Hos

I'm always amazed at the stuff my body can digest.

James Coco is the poor man's Dom Deluise

From Todd. I have to agree simply on the "one is dead and the other isn't" principle.

That, and I watched Cannonball Run more time than I care to mention.

Today I am 1.

PMV started one year ago, today. This has officially lasted longer than I thought an already-thin premise could be stretched. Thanks to all the friends I've made who've commented, suggested ideas and entertained me, rather than me entertaining you.

What's in store for the coming year? Hopefully less of the easy stuff (celebrities) and more with the creativity. I'm not making any promises.

In the meantime here are my favorite posts from the last year (in no particular order).

Poor Man


The one that began it all: #1.

TV.

Real people.

Huh?

Holidays.

Clayton Rohner is the poor man's Vinnie D

I am all for the support of Mr. Rohner's career. There is nothing funny to say here. Please make something up for yourselves. I have a weekend to attack.

Liza Weil is the poor man's Maria Bello

One of them, I'm not saying....wait....nevermind.

Jane Adams is the poor man's Judy Greer

One of them, I'm not saying whom, seems to clean up better than the other.

Remo Williams is the poor man's Buckaroo Banzai

If I keep making the Poor Woman watch movies I loved from the early 80's, I think she's going to divorce me. Personally, I think she keeps me around for answers to trivia games.

Van Pattens are the poor man's Van Dykes

Happy New Year!