Ever since the first time I accidentally came across your show while aimlessly channel-surfing at 1 am on a boring Saturday night, I have been a fan. That particular evening I happened to be lounging around my living room in red feetie pajamas with the butt flap undone (for comfort sake, not for any weird sexual reasons), with nothing but a bottle of Boone’s Farm and some nachos to keep me company. My dead horse boyfriend was home, but had drank himself into an unconscious stupor hours ago, so the plans we had that entailed The Olive Garden and off-color jokes made at the expense of our waiter were therefore cancelled. He even bitched out on a round of ferocious dry humping before said date in favor of killing most of a case of Keystone, not an unusual occurrence in our courtship, by the way, in favor of destroying his already depleted brain cells. So I was holding down the fort alone.
Having recently upgraded to basic extended cable, I hadn’t had access to Channel 79, FX, since I had lived with my parents. I watched the last few minutes of some lame program, and since I was too lazy to reach for the remote again, I settled back and let the powers that be provide my random entertainment. I was not disappointed. The screen went yellow, and the melodious music that swelled warned me that the following show had a mature rating because of language, violence, and sexual content. That’s exactly my type of show! Over the next 30 minutes or so, I remained glued to the television. I didn’t even break for the bathroom on commercials, which led to some dampness on my part and realizing that adult diapers may be a sound investment for a woman of my lazy nature.
No matter. What I was experiencing was entertaining, enthralling, unsettling, and clever. My first viewing of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” just so happened to be the Day Man episode, arguably one of the best and most quoted. Seriously, go up to any “Sunny” fan and utter the words “Day Man”, and if you’re rewarded with a screechy, sing-song “Aaaahhh!” in reply, you have been inducted into the brotherhood of fandom. At the end of the episode I had laughed myself to tears, and acquired a new love. Love for Day Man, and his Creator, Charlie Kelly, aka Charlie Day.
Charlie is everything a strange, slightly crazy chick would want in a mate. He’s funny, has musical talent, isn’t afraid to look stupid for the sake of expressing his creative side, and is presumably loaded since he has his own television show. His character’s disturbing, stalker-ish obsession with The Waitress is oddly endearing. If a guy liked me enough to follow me to and from work, and wasn’t wielding an assault weapon of some sort, how could I not be charmed? Even his character’s supposed bad hygiene and illiteracy are cute. Solution? Let’s take a bath together! I could read aloud from Lolita, or some other wildly inappropriate book while he sponges my back and quietly giggles every time he catches a glimpse of my butt crack through the foamy, scented bubbles. It could be a match made in weirdo Heaven. We could have strange, hilarious little babies that are much too short and use rampant foul language. It would be my version of a fairy tale ending.
Oh, Charlie. I am aware that in real life, you are married (to The Waitress, no less!), and the fact that you live thousands of miles away and have never even heard of me is detrimental our relationship. Just know that I long for you from afar. Every man I meet from now on will be compared to you. The weirder, the better. And if I ever do come across a guy who shares a futon with another grown man, or gets followed by cats as he goes about his daily business, or pretends to be a lawyer while knowing absolutely nothing about the legal profession, I will think of you and sigh. Any real life Charlie’s out there? What are you waiting for? I’m giving away the crazy for free, and it comes with a great set of knockers ; )
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