Tag Archives: Tuesday Tubby Tearfest

Tuesday Tubby Tearfest: Ranking the final four

Father Scott

Well I’m finally caught up in real time with the greatest show about the obese on the planet — I sucked it up and watched last week, then the previous episode out of order on Hulu. I’m still disgusted with you, free service that probably costs an arm and a leg to produce and yet only gets complaints from its users.

So we’ve reached the final four. I don’t really know what to expect from tonight’s episode — it says “at a special time” which might mean “we didn’t have enough good material for two hours, so we’re starting at 9” or even more egregiously “the President wants to talk to you and somehow that’s more important than watching fat people do jumping jacks.”

But I can tell you something about last week: Suze Orman is a frightening individual. I’m not sure she knows anything, but she has an abnormal amount of confidence in what she says. Listening to her talk about finances reminds me of when Jillian tries to do the psychobabble and the contestants who aren’t emotional infants (OK, there aren’t many of them) just kind of scoff at her.

So let’s talk big picture this week. Who’s winning this thing? I don’t think any really stand out as particularly dedicated, so it’s a tough call, but I’ll go in reverse order of my own personal rankings.

4. Liz. How is this woman still here? You know what Liz, your southern Grandma act is getting old. You have a charming accent. Get off my television so I can look at Ali a little more.

3. Danny. This man is the best earnest tear factory since Bob’s man-crush Mark from a couple seasons ago. But I think we’re going to see a plateau from Danny. GOOD GOD does he have a gut, also. Did he program his body to send all goods consumed directly to his stomach? How has he worked out for 3 months and lost 100+ lbs. and still have his stomach hang over his pants? Poor guy. But he’s not winning.

2. Amanda. I find Bob’s obsession with Amanda confusing. 1) Bob’s gay, right? And Amanda’s a woman, right? 2) She looks like LeAnn Rimes. A compliment? 3) She’s one of the few to walk out on a workout, and I actually think she’s done it more than once. What am I missing here? Anyway, she’s young and a female so she probably won’t plateau as much, but still, I don’t know that her heart is in it once she gets away from Bob.

1. Rudy. Rudy’s still got some weight to drop, but he’s got the athletic build and the endurance to keep going. Most importantly he’s got the drive from within, or at least he seems to. Jillian was pissed that he bottles it up, but sometimes I think it’s better to be less vocal about it, especially once you need to go back to regular life.


The description on the site is as follows:

Special time, 9/8c! Last season’s finalists return to cheer the final four on as they face their toughest challenge: a marathon.

Toughest challenge? Past season returning? A FREAKING MARATHON? This is a tear explosion, even with fewer contestants on the show. I’m setting the line at an unprecedented 24.5.


I probably won’t eat unhealthily during the show. For shame, I know. But I have a return to the flag football field this weekend, and am actually going to the gym after work, because I’m pretty sure if I ride on a bike machine for a couple hours this week I will officially be in shape before the game. But if I were to eat something horrible, it would be my go-to McDonald’s meal: a number 1 meal and a McChicken. That McChicken really does the trick.

And you know what I learned last night? Big Macs aren’t that bad for you, really. 29 grams of fat according to my Subway napkin. 29 grams of fat? I figured it was 60. NOW I CAN EAT TWO.

Enjoy the show, tiny folks.


Filed under television

Wednesday Whaley Whimperfest: NBC and Hulu are stupid

Father Scott

You may have noticed there was no Tuesday Tubby Tearfest this week. Here’s why: I missed The Biggest Loser the previous week (Celts opening night y’all) and was like, “Oh, I’ll check it out online later.” NBC is a major network, works really hard on Hulu (they advertised on the Super Bowl!), so obviously this was a flawless plan.

Except Hulu and NBC.com don’t put the episodes up right away. “That’s fine,” I thought when I checked Wednesday. “There needs to be some sort of penalty for me missing the actual airing, and thus missing all the commercials, which is how they pay the big bucks to attract that ogre Jillian Michaels to the show.”

Then I checked Thursday. No dice. Nor all weekend.

So it gets to be this Tuesday, and I can’t catch up in time for the new one. THEY WAIT A WEEK BEFORE POSTING THE EPISODES.

I demand an explanation. How am I supposed to catch up, ever? By penalizing me for missing one show’s worth of commercials, they force me to never watch on time again, which means I always watch online, which means I only see one or two low-rent commercials, which I’m sure don’t pay the big bucks.

Plus, it loses momentum. Part of the joy of watching the show is talking with other people about it, or in my case, writing about how much these fatboys and gals cry.

I fear that I will never recover, fair reader (hi Jaelynne!).

Anyway, I think this is stupid. If I had DVR, I could easily do more damage by fast-forwarding through the commercials. For some reason DVR is an asset to networks, but online is a replacement. This is totally nonsensical, and sometimes I wonder if TV networks have any better idea of how to work with the Internet than newspapers did.

I hate both of you NBC and Hulu. Unless this is a one-time thing, in which case everything is fine and I’ll catch up soon.


No idea, since I don’t have any momentum to go on. For me, the over/under is 0.5. You should take the over.


I don’t know who’s there LA LA LA


Since I can’t watch the show, does this mean I can’t eat the delicious treat? OH HELL NO. This week’s treat: chocolate chip pie from some place in Raynham that Jaelynne frequents, and then doesn’t finish and lets me devour during lunch. NICE.


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Tuesday Tubby Tearfest: In which I straight up don’t believe NBC

Father Scott

We all know that reality shows lie to our faces every episode. For instance, The Hills masquerades as non-fiction. Flavor of Love seems to suggest that Flavor Flav reads above a third-grade level. The Bachelor/Bachelorette series want you to think that every time a contestant is sent home, it was “the hardest decision [the main character] has ever made.”

For the most part we accept it, because it adds to the drama, or on the other hand makes whatever we’re being spoonfed more digestable.

The Biggest Loser isn’t so bad as far as this stuff goes. I mean, their product placements are now so direct that I almost think they’re wink-wink-nudge-nudge jokes from production assistants. (Note: Last week I was grocery shopping and intentionally didn’t buy Yoplait yogurt because I’m sick of Bob talking down to me about my snack choices. Take that Tats McGee.)

The contestants regularly talk about going home, refer to the show, and last week we even saw a producer step in front of the camera when Coach Mo took a tumble.

But here’s one major way NBC is lying to us: There is no way on God’s green Earth that Alexandra/Antoine “relationship” is not set up.

Alexandra left after like a week. Antoine goes home a few weeks later, and during his send-off it is revealed that they had a connection and now work out together and are dating. They even drop the L-bomb on camera.

Now hold up.

They met for a week. They were both morbidly obese. They were on the show for weight loss, and spent eight hours a day drenched in sweat. Romance is not even a C-story on this show, because America doesn’t want to watch unattractive people banging (they want to watch unattractive people become attractive, then start banging).

I went to NBC’s website for more details, and believe there are further lies. Antoine is listed as from North Carolina, while Alexandra is from Pennsylvania, which disputes Pax’s theory that they knew each other beforehand. Or does it? Alexandra claims to be working on her MBA…but is age 20. And where is she in college?

I call shenanigans NBC. Either Alexandra goes to Duke and is already nailing Antoine (who’s going to be an attractive dude if he slices off another 100 lbs.), or you guys pulled the two As together and said, “hey fatties, let’s ham it up for the camera, maybe you’ll get a spin-off show”.

Well fatties, you won’t, and stop lying to us.

And if you’re wondering why I’m talking about this now…Dina is boring and I have nothing to say about her.


I’m going with 23.5 this week. The website promises a former contestant to come back, and that shit always rattles these people. It involved a record, so it’s probably whoever lost 100 lbs. the soonest, since Rudy is banging down that door. I hope the record is actually “most tree-like carrot sculpture” so Paul can make his return. Or maybe it’s “most not-over his ex-wife.”


Daniel. His production has dropped off, and I don’t think it’s a blip. He’s got emotional problems, but the sympathy can only go so far, and this cast’s sympathy is clearly all with Shay.


As you’re watching The Biggest Loser, you’re probably eating. They’re constantly tempting the contestants with delicious treats, and if you’ve got time to plop down for two hours on the couch, you’re probably not the kind of go-getter that’s at the gym at night.

So eat something delicious that those assholes can’t get away with.

Last week I went frozen pizza followed by a bunch of bite-sized candy. Tonight, I’ll probably eat before the show, but for during-show snack, I’m going with my mom’s homemade pumpkin whoopie pies, whose secret ingredient is sugar-infused sugar-butter sugar sugar sugar. It promises to be a delight, though type-2 diabetes probably won’t be.

Enjoy the show, Paxites.


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Tuesday Tubby Tearfest: Please go home, Tracey

Father Scott

Every so often, I have a dream that I am twisting one of my bottom teeth and it eventually pulls out of my mouth. It’s an extraordinary dream, because I feel like I experience something that I haven’t experienced in, what, 15 years?

And it feels so good. My tooth is hurting (in the dream), which is why I keep yanking on it. The relief is amazingly satisfying, and the sensation of touching the gum with your tongue after a tooth has vanished is unmistakeable.

Of course, I wouldn’t actually want to yank a tooth out of my mouth, even the offending tooth (which doesn’t really fit in my mouth because my teeth are perpetually tightening, twisting this sonofabitch enough to give me dreams that its removal would be a delight). The lack of tooth would create a ridiculous-looking hole in my mouth that would make me look even more homeless than my scraggly beard does. I’m happy with semi-homeless.

This is how Tracey feels about weight loss.

Tracey is an attention-grabbing, crazy-eyed, rumpled-haired, lying, illogical whore. OK, she does not sell herself sexually for money, as far as we know. But the rest is all documented.

But the thing is: She does not actually want to lose weight.

As Jillian so often says, “This is a CHOICE.” Everyone on the show has health issues, because they’re monstrously overweight. But not everyone runs off to Dr. Huizenga. If everyone had meetings with Dr. H every few days, wouldn’t there be dangerous levels of all kinds of stuff in their bodies? OF COURSE. And of course it’s dangerous for them to be working as hard as they are.

Sure, she passed out on the first episode because walking a mile is just too much activity. But I think there’s something psychological going on. Am I saying she intentionally passed out? No. But I think she’s psychologically weak, and that’s tying into physiological weakness. Tracey doesn’t want to lose weight, because she will no longer stand out. She will no longer be an obese, and in her mind, tragic figure, deserving of your sympathy. She’ll just be another annoying lady with kids.

Unlike my tooth, Tracey’s weight is actually a problem, and she would look better. But it would change how she is perceived in the world, and she can’t handle that.

Her attention-grabbing is getting old. It’s clear, as Pax said to me before I watched the last two episodes, that Tracey is just trying to become the star of the show, just as Heba did in season 6. Except that Heba combined strategy and melodrama with actual work, whereas Tracey talks, talks, talks, and sits, sits, sits. I officially do not believe The Biggest Loser scales — or they are just blatantly lying about how much activity she does — because it is totally illogical that some of these people bust their asses, and this ho loses weight and stays alive.

Tracey: You do not want to be The Biggest Loser. You do not even want to be ON The Biggest Loser. You want to be on TV. You want to be Octomom, not Mark from season 5. And I fucking hate Octomom.

Please go home, Tracey. And I hope Jillian pummels the shit out of you on the way out.


For those of you who are new to Tuesday Tubby Tearfest: Each week I provide an over/under for how many instances of crying will happen on the show. It’s a totally subjective determination, and the phrase is just as clunky as “percentage of weight loss of xx lbs.”. Generally, I consider an instance of crying being any time in which there are tears or blubbering. If you collect yourself and bawl again, I count it.

This season was out of control with the tears — I’m pretty sure episode 3 set some kind of record. But with Sean gone, I think it’s going to be more even keeled. The line is 13.5 this week. I’ll take the over, but I’m not that confident about it.


Well, Tracey if it were up to me. But the producers are clearly fucking with the game to keep her on.

I’m going to say Liz. The shit catches up with the older folks, and Liz may be late 40s, but she acts and looks about 60. She’s not nearly as committed as some of the other people, and when it comes down to it the voting depends on A) who needs to be there B) who they like the best and C) who wants to be there. I think people like Liz, but she doesn’t need to be there as bad as some (Rudy, Shay) and doesn’t want to be there as much as some (Shay again, and Daniel).

Enjoy the show, homies.


Filed under television

Don’t call it a comeback

Father Scott

I live by a few simple rules in life. Always accept free cake. Don’t trust large, goofy scandinavians.

But the most important one is: If many women ask you to do something, do it.

And that rule is why I’m happy to announce the return of the greatest regular feature in the illustrious history of Pax Arcana: Tuesday Tubby Tearfest.

I lost interest in The Biggest Loser after season 6’s unlikeable cast was followed by season 7’s unwatchable cast. Basically, Paul left large shoes to fill (literally and figuratively). Wonder if he ever got over his post-show pneumonia.

With Samurai focus, I build this carrot tree. Carrot. Carrot cake. Pulled pork. Chocolate-covered nachos with mayonnaise. MMMMMM

Anyway, I have three more shows to catch up on to get back to real-time, but should be able to carve out four or five hours in my weekend of coke orgies to do so.

After episode 1, I have the following thoughts:

1) Jillian has become a parody of herself, to hilarious results. She’s still motherfucking insane.


2) Coach Mo is awesome. I dread his eventual dismissal (thanks for the spoiler, Pax).

3) Never before have I seen a reality cast more coached by the producers. How many sentences started with, “I feel like I have a second chance…” in the first episode? The over under was 143.5, and I’m betting Pax’s mortgage on the over.

4) Alison Sweeney is smokin’.

If you haven’t yet read Tuesday Tubby Tearfest, here’s what you can expect:

1) Making fun of fat people who cry

2) Philosophical discussions as to whether Jillian is human

3) What delicious food I eat while watching these fatasses struggle to get out of bed in the morning

If that doesn’t sound like your slice of pie, go back to tweeting about Balloon Boy, or whatever it is you people do.

UPDATE: OMGZ 47 billion hat tips to Pax for this astoundingly…something…video by/about Paul:


Filed under television

Wednesday Weighty Waterworks

Father Scott

I only caught a bit of last night’s Biggest Loser, thanks to our softball team having an absurdly late game. At least it was worthwhile: we lost by 19 and Pax at one point attempted to saw my face off for being so terrible as a pitcher, batter, and evangelical motivator.

Anyway, they’ve got another hour tonight, which I’m guessing is a continuation of last night’s, with emphasis on the last-chance workout and the voting part.

Based on the first hour, I think the brown team will be in the mix. They tried to get us to be sympathetic toward Vicky and/or Bob, but no luck there. We also learned that Shellay is not good at following directions. How can you not be motivated by this?



I’ve got a feeling it’s either Shellay or Bob tonight. Neither seems to care much, and with the new voting policy in which the losing team chooses which of its own two to send home, it’ll be one of them if one of their teams goes.


It’s only an hour-long show, but it’s the money hour with the weigh-ins. The over/under is 9.5; I’m actually taking the under. There was a lot of contact from home this week between the visit home for Phil and Amy (did you know their youngest kid is autistic? No, really, he is), and then the packages that they got to look at after the challenge (so I read the recap, shoot me). I think they got most of their emotions out with this stuff and will be fairly composed. Plus, if it’s the brown team who loses, they don’t really like each other that much anyway, it’ll just be a shouting match and whoever gets hoarse first will go home.


Filed under food, media

Tuesday Tubby Tearfest? I think you meant to say Wednesday Weighty Waterworks

Father Scott

Two occasions get in the way of tonight’s Biggest Loser episode: two douchebags arguing and our softball team, which has a game and will prohibit me from watching. Luckily, NBC is splitting it into two one-hour episodes, so I’ll be able to check it out tomorrow. As such, I’ll postpone my preview for tomorrow.

In the mean time, check out an example of what I look like on the softball field.

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The return of Tuesday Tubby Tearfest

Father Scott

Fall might be my favorite time of the year. Our company flag football league starts up. Baseball finds its way into the playoffs. And I get to explore the earth tones and heavier fabrics of my extensively LL Bean-ized closet.

But nothing energizes me more than the return of The Biggest Loser.

Yes, America’s best example of exploiting the obese and occasionally motivated members of society by promising them a better life and a chance at some cash if they’ll only appear on a reality show, be shamelessly ridiculed by a she-male trainer, and appear topless during their weekly weigh-in. And it’s all the better if you’re eating ice cream while watching.

“I will fucking kill you, and then feed off your entrails”

This year the gimmick is families, taking last year’s “couples” feature a step forward. Go home, friends — Jillian and Bob will only work with blood relatives in 2008.

It’s early yet, so it’s hard to tell who will captivate me this year. Last year it was the lovable hopeless oaf Paul, who likely will die in a pool of tears and barbeque chicken within the next five years. I miss Paul.

I’d love to introduce you to all the teams, but I unfortunately forgot about the show’s premiere until receiving a text message from Pax a half-hour into the first episode asking me how awesome it was. Damn it.

Two great things appeared in the first episode: A tool that estimated the competitors’ “biological age” — the age the conditions of their organs suggested they were, based on overuse. (Incidentally, I hooked myself up to the machine. My penis: 4,057 years old.)

The 26-year old cabby from Somerville, who Pax is no doubt rooting for, was like 47 biologically, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone who saw the 350 lb. tub of lard try to walk without sweating. Anyway, the tool seemed to be a wakeup call for many contestants: They have seen their weight time and again, so that’s not a shock. But seeing that you’ve aged your insides 20 years because you can’t put down the Cheetos? That’s motivation.

Second was the fact that they have the man who has to be considered their most disgusting out-of-shape mongoloid in their history. The requisite old man on the show, the 5’10, 380 lb. Jerry, is in such bad shape that they will only allow him to work out for 30 minutes a day, for fear that Jillian will, you know, off his ass. While this is undoubtedly awesome, it’s also lame — his daughter Colleen was at a huge advantage in the competition, which required the pairs to walk in grueling heat up a hill to find various benefits (including immunity, obvi.).

Immediately after striking this pose, Jerry took a three-hour nap while hooked up to life-sustaining IVs

Needless to say, the most likeable and least asshole-y team got voted off last week, which seems to always happen in reality TV. And while it’s early to project these things, let’s get to the two weekly items.


As you know, the best part of Tuesday Tubby Tearfest, and the cause of this weekly posting, is the immeasurable crying that takes place on the show. I set the over/under, and you wage a guess as to how much sobbing, crying, or flat-out blubbering will take place this week.

Because it’s early and the contestants are still 1) really freaking fat, 2) unused to the idea of losing tons of weight, and 3) emotionally volatile, I expect the number to be high. I’m setting the over/under at 14.5 — I’ll take the over, but the fact that there has yet to be an emotional investment in the other teams makes me hesitant.


This is nearly impossible to tell. I think the drama of the yellow team and Old Man SitOnTheSidelines keeps them around. The Boston cabbies will prove resourceful. The orange team seemed to have outsized personalities, always a plus in reality TV. So I’ll throw my money on the purple team, Amy and Shellay. Why? Her name is Shel-lay. What a fucking stupid name.

I don’t care how you threaten me, I will not call you a milf


Filed under food, media

The end of Tuesday Tubby Tearfest

Father Scott

The Biggest Loser went out with a whimper last night. Thanks to rambling answers to questions and NBC’s need to replay every contestant’s backstory for the 8,000th time, we were left with a three-second celebration of Ali’s big victory — the confetti hadn’t even hit the floor by the time we were seeing their disclaimer and the beginning of another creepy Law & Order episode.

But that wasn’t the worst part. There was only one thing I was looking forward to in the final episode. It wasn’t the winner (Ali — big surprise…there wasn’t even any suspense about it). It wasn’t Jillian, who still looked like she would attack anyone who came near, Venus fly trap-style. It wasn’t even Bob and Mark’s loving exchange, though that’s always a plus.

It was Paul. Remember Paul? That fat slobby lovable d-bag who loved his ex-wife, always said the wrong thing, and was a lock to put all the weight he lost back on the second he left the show? Well, it appears he did, as Alison Sweeney (stick to scripted tv Alison, good God did you struggle with a live show) announced that Paul was “too ill” to attend. Too ill? I know he had pneumonia after leaving the show, and that is sad. But really, there’s only one reason he wasn’t on screen, and it had more to do with thickness than sickness.

We were robbed

Bad form, NBC or Paul, whoever made the decision. He was the most entertaining part of the show, aside from figuring out how the gayest man alive had the most masculine tattoos.

Somewhere, Mark is doing something inappropriate while reading this

A few other things I took away:

1. Kelly looked great. I really liked Kelly by the end of it. She never really cared about the gameplay and toughed it out through some serious injuries. She also lost what was effectively a teenager off her body.

2. Other than Mark, whose life changed in the same way as born-again Christians, I think Danny looked like he turned things around the most. They all obviously had major changes, but Danny’s still young and enthusiastic. He wasn’t on the show to prolong his life for the sake of his kids — obviously a great goal, though — he just wanted to live like a kid in his mid-20s. Bravo, Danny.

Rock out with your mohawk out

3. Holy crap, Lynn wasn’t as lazy as I thought!

4. Ali and Bette Sue comprise the most annoying family on television.

Left to right: still not that hot, insufferable

5. But most importantly, what am I going to blog about? Will Pax Arcana continue to get linked on boston.com without my wagering figures on fat people? Will Mrs. Pax Arcana continue to have reasons to send me text messages while her husband is none-the-wiser? The questions are unending.


Filed under television

Tuesday Tubby Tearfest

Father Scott

There’s nowhere to go but up, people.

That’s my approach to this week’s Biggest Loser, coming on the heels of the worst episode of the year. Hopefully it’s just a speed bump on the way to an exciting finale.

Last week saw Danny go home, which is unfortunate only in that the show seems determined to eliminate the more entertaining people each week. Now we’re stuck with two people who have already been eliminated and come back (which seems a little unfair) in Mark and Ali, plus Kelly, Roger, and Jay.

You can eat this shit all you want now, Danny

Forgive me for being negative, but it seems like this week could be another dull one. Is there any way the boys don’t gang up on Ali or Kelly this week and send one packing? It was already remarkable that Danny was sent home, and he only was because he got lazy. That’s not happening with Mark, Roger, and Jay. Hell, Roger can’t afford to be sent home, ’cause he’s no longer gainfully employed (hat tip: Pax).

And since Kelly poses absolutely zero threat as an overall winner (as opposed to Ali’s 0.0001%), she’ll stick around. Ali is the overwhelming favorite to leave this week. It’s probably for the best anyway — her crazy mom Bette Sue needs the company.

Given that no one cares about Ali (she hasn’t been around in months, and she and Kelly only have a forced bond), I forsee little crying this week. I’m going with 6, figuring that most of it will come from Jillian beating the everloving shit out of Ali and Kelly in the workouts.

Peace, homey

Now for some Padre Linktastica, boosted by my introduction to RSS feeds (hat tip of sorts, again, Pax) to jumpstart this overcast Tuesday.


I. Ryan Adams will play a few dates with Oasis. If only I lived in Alberta. [Paste]

II. Ryan Adams shops at Ralph Lauren, then takes a bunch of pictures of himself. I think if someone ever does a blog-related thesis, they’ll have to include Ryan’s just to examine the way he deconstructs how goofy it is. [DRAdamsFilms]

III. My favorite instructional basketball blog covers how not to hedge, and conversely, how you can break down an entire team’s defense in two dribbles (if you’re as quick as Raymond Felton). [The X’s and O’s of Basketball]

IV. One of my favorite basketball commentary blogs kills Internet April Fools jokes. [Hardwood Paroxysm]

V. The disappearance of Darin Erstad’s maddening stickiness predates the War on Terror, motherfuckers![Fire Joe Morgan]

VI. Some archaeologists found a gold necklace on a body dated roughly 4,000 years ago, proving that even in rudimentary cultures, the ladies still love the bling. [LiveScience]

VII. The official baseball transaction blog of Father Scott is running a chat at 3 pm. Tim knows his stuff, and is doing some great stuff with his site after committing himself to it full-time. [MLBTradeRumors]

VIII. Next Tuesday, don’t miss Jillian and Bob live blogging after The Biggest Loser at 10. I mean, really, how can you resist that? [NBC]

Jiskairumoko, what?


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