ode to kroll show (or, how nick kroll got in my head)

It was mid-January, 2013, and suddenly it seemed that everyone and their dog was tweeting about the upcoming Kroll Show premiere. I had never heard of Nick Kroll, but the people telling me to watch his show were all funny so I did what any discerning girl would do: a Google image search of Nick Kroll. Once I had the lay of the land (he looked likeable-funny, as opposed to jerk-funny), I set my PVR to record Kroll Show every week.  

This might not sound like a big deal, but please know that it kind of was. Comedy Central was foreign territory for me. And sketch comedy? I’d laid it to rest when the Kids left the Hall. My TV dance-card was pretty full with beloved programming (New Girl! The Mindy Project! Parks & Recreation! Parenthood! Trust me, the list goes on…), so there wasn’t a lot of room to test-drive new shows, let alone set up a series recording. But I decided to be bold, to trust The Funny People on Twitter and take the Kroll Show plunge.  

I am so glad that I did. Jeff the Ref was a riot. And Wheels Ontario? This Canuck wanted to exclaim “Screw you Pardon me, Mikey, I want Kroll Show to take me to the Poutine Dance!” But the real magic happened just two minutes into the pilot, when I met Liz B. and Liz G. When the hilarious Jenny Slate and Nick-Kroll-in-a-blonde-wig introduced their PR firm PubLizity (“It’s based off our names”), I was instantly smitten. They were the perfect blend of ridiculous and reality-show-real, and it didn’t hurt that Liz G. sounded exactly like my favourite salesperson from The Body Shop (he truly is amayzeen).  

I once took my two-and-a-half-year-old Goddaughter Sofia to the zoo. I’ll never forget the serious look that came over her little face as we stood in darkness staring at the bats hanging upside down in their horror-show habitat. From beneath her blonde pageboy she lisped “I don’t like thith pawt. Thith is thcawy.” Why am I telling you this? Well, that’s kind of how I felt when Pretty Liz introduced us to Dr. Armond, California’s Premier Plastic Surgeon for Pets ™.  

One of the beautiful things about life is that sometimes it surprises us. While I’d hastily dismissed Liz’s Count Chocula dog doctor as creepy and probably mean, I had no idea that soon Dr. Armond would take up residence in a little corner of my heart (and not just because he got his own spin-off). His mild, patient and lovingly tolerant responses to his asshole son Roman’s assy comments became one of my very favourite things about Kroll Show. I was already garnering big laughs in my inner circle by tossing out a well-timed “amayzeeeen!” (it never gets old) and before long a deadpan “Roman, I love you very much” had been added to my repertoire. (I’m chuffed to report that my newest impression, the spitty C-Czar, felt surprisingly strong right out of the gate.) 

As the weeks went on, I found myself talking about Kroll Show to anyone who would listen. But perhaps what surprised me more was how much time I spent thinking about Kroll Show. I could be at work, or drifting off to sleep, or sitting with Oprah and Deepak for my evening meditation, and I’d find my mind full of Liz squared, Dr. Armond and C-Czar.  

And now the season has ended. It’s probably for the best. My love affair with Dr. Armond could use some cooling. Until next season, Kroll Show!  

P.S. We’ll always have YouTube.

Easy Like Sunday Morning: An Open Letter to Jason Segel

Sunday night, Jason Segel tweeted this question:

"Honestly a totally hypothetical question but I'm curious. If I fell in love would you guys be happy?"

His tweet made me smile. Who wouldn't want Jason Segel to be happily in love? I imagine he got a zillion replies saying something along the lines of "of course we'd be happy, especially if the one you fell in love with was ME."

Then the next day he tweeted this:

"We don't even know each other and you guys want me to be happy. I'm not being sarcastic at all when I say that actually means a lot."

I started to reply but quickly realized that what I wanted to say couldn’t be expressed in one little tweet. Even spread out over a few tweets, my sentiments would surely get lost in the mix of the fast-and-furious replies of Jason’s almost-million followers. Hence, this open letter.

Dear Jason Segel,

You had us at hello. And by "hello" I mean that backyard watermelon in Can't Hardly Wait. You were the late-90s answer to Dirty Dancing's melon-toting Baby.

As Nick, you Lady L'd and disco-danced your way into our hearts. The only Freaks and Geeks scene rivalling those in number of times rewound/rewatched was Bill's Rerun dance (because how can you not?).

Speaking of freaks, you made Undeclared’s possessive Eric a riot to watch, even when he was tormenting our sweet and slight hero Steven. And speaking of Undeclared, can we all take a moment of silence, please? Sigh. Gone too soon.

  

We loved you in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, but when we discovered that you'd written it, we loved you even more. I see a lot of movies, and few things ignite my "this hasn't been done before" spidey senses; hearing Dracula's Lament and then seeing your puppet rock opera, my curiosity morphed into "Uhhh, THIS IS AWESOME."

I once asked my mom "which guy on How I Met Your Mother would you pick to marry?" and without skipping a beat she replied "Oh, Marshall . I love Marshall." It cracked me up and warmed my heart to hear my cute mama answer with such conviction. I've loved this show from day one, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who finds it a comfort to see your syndicated mug in the living room on a regular basis (like right now, as I type this).

That I adored I Love You, Man is a given. Jason Segel + comic genius Paul Rudd = what more could anyone want? Your Sydney Fife threatens to become a jackass who wreaks havoc on love, but with his mad moped dash to reach his best friend’s side, the heart of this movie shines. It brings bromance to dizzying heights. (Side Note: The love for Rush wasn't lost on Canuck audiences. I think I speak for all Canadians when I say that we appreciate any and all references to anything Canadian.)

Speaking of homegrown, you were hilarious alongside Seth Rogen and Jay Baruchel in Knocked Up. Your smooth appreciation of the gorgeous Leslie Mann was perfectly delivered. I wonder if your flirting made her feel all tingly and stuff.

And not only did you bring back the Muppets but you introduced us to Walter (That blue suit! That whistling!). I grew up with the Muppets, so it was such fun to see them on the big screen again. I loved every minute of this movie, and when I heard that old familiar "It's time to start the music, it's time to light the lights," I got goosebumps AND cried. Thank you Jason Segel for serving me a big juicy nostalgia sandwich of awesome.

I recently saw Wanderlust (two thumbs up!) and there were not one but two previews for movies starring YOU: Jeff, Who Lives at Home and The Five-Year Engagement. Rapid elbowing of my sister ensued, which of course she understood to mean "I can't wait to see these movies!" And This Is 40? Don't get me started. I haven't been this excited for a movie to come out since, well, The Muppets.

What's so nice about you, Jason Segel, is that despite your massive talent, you're relatable. If Tom Hanks is Everyman, you are Everyguy. You're the guy that guys want to have a beer with, to slap da bass with. You’re the guy that girls want to hang out with, to crash a bar mitzvah with. What's that, George Clooney? You want me to come boating with you and the Jolie-Pitts on Lake Como ? No thanks, I'd rather chill with a Segel, a Rudd, an Apatow and a Mann. (Oh alright George, if you insist, I will be there. Just let me know if I need to bring my own life jacket.) 

So you're right, Jason Segel. We don't know you. But we feel like we do. You're our Marshmallow, our hilarious disco-dancing Muppet reviver. You bring us joy and make us laugh. You’re the favourite old sweatshirt we keep reaching for because it’s just so damn comfortable, like a hug.

You, Jason Segel, are easy like Sunday morning. And this is why we love you, man.