Parmistan Presents In da Hizzle

While coming to grips with the underwhelming response our website has generated, RJ and I have been racking our brains trying to come up with an idea for a television show. TV is where the money is, anyway. And considering our growing cocaine and Vicodin dependency, we're in a real pickle as far as our finances go. So we sat down and asked ourselves, 'What do the kids love?' Suddenly, the answer hit us like a bolt from the blue . . . we had no idea. Jesus, we're pushing 30, and we hate the kids. How the hell are we supposed to know what they love? Our response was to panic, and think, "What would Hunter S. Thompson do in this situation?" Abuse more illicit drugs, or, perhaps, just use Gratuitous, random Capitalization?

Anyway, in this desperate state we decided to just recycle a popular show's formula and add our own utterly predictable wrinkle to it to up the Edgy Quotient. It works for FOX reality programming, why shouldn't it work for us? To make sure our knock-off was as derivative as possible, we decided to rip off MTV’s Cribs, which has already been ripped off by BET's Livin' Large. Our twist: Instead of showing the Hurstian Xanadu's of our celebrity class, we'll show the kind of rat-holes in which people like us live. Here are a few video stills and selected quotes from our pilot.

On this week's episode of "In da Hizzle" we visit Mike Gries' apartment . . .

(RJ and the Hizzle crew arrive at Mike’s apartment)

“What the . . .? Jesus, what are you guys doing here? . . .yeah well remind me to get that spare key back.”

(Mike slumps forward in bed like a rag doll thrown in the corner, and then rubs his musty palms over his oily face.)

ugh. . .hey, throw my pants. They’re on the chair.

Well me crap-hole es su craphole I suppose. Let me give you the tour. Man, I can’t believe we ever thought this was a funny idea. Were we drinking when we came up with this idea?

Here’s the kitchen. Notice that my sink is approximately 8 inches deep, and that I make certain that the dirty dishes are well above the horizon before I do anything about them. This way, when I finally do wash them I’m guaranteed to spray oily-foody water all over my pants.

Here’s my entertainment center slash office slash dining room. This is my favorite part of the place, and I spend a lot of time here. You know, as opposed to the south wing of the place – which is that 4 foot strip by the door.

Here’s my library and here’s my wardrobe.

This is the bathroom. This is where I poop, pee, and shower. This is also where I give myself my haircuts. I hold a mirror up to do the back. There’s a definite D.I.Y approach around here.

And finally this is the master bedroom. This is where it all goes down. And by “it all” I mean “fitful irregular sleep.” Please note that I put that Van Gogh Painting of the dinky room above my bed. Get it? See, because I live in a crappy one room apartment too. Oh, aren’t I clever.

So there it is Parm-Hizzle: my place. You don’t have to go home, but you gotta get the hell out of here! No, actually I’m kidding. You’re more than welcome to stay . . . No really. Please. You got me up. It’s the least you can do. RJ, what do you mean you have to go to Connecticut to visit your parents? Oh Jesus, don’t leave me alone in here . . . please. . . (fade to Black.)

Next week – Mike returns the favor as he brings the In Da Hizzle Crew to visit RJ, who’s currently livin’ PHAT in the basement of his in-law’s Crib