up, I say, he climbed UP the spout again!
I might have attained late-night television nirvana tonight.
I've seen him strip to fill airtime, I've seen him string-dance and mock his crazy hair and lick all manner of things and say things with a straight face no mere mortal could manage, but tonight. Tonight, Conan did a hoe-down on his desk to Lynyrd Skynyrd's Sweet Home Alabama as gun-totin' Jesus was pulled along in a kid-size replica of a NASCAR racecar.
And sometimes, he has guests who not only live up to that kind of lead-in but surpass it.
Conan then looked into the future (all the way to the year 2000!) with William Shatner (for whom it took the audience a good 20 seconds to stop screaming and clapping), who later described himself as feeling akin to an Oreo while lewdly illustrating his screams of I've discovered the secret! It's sex! and throbbing and demanding Gimme a pelvic thrust! of Max, but then. Oh, then Conan brought up the universal rave reviews for his album, Has Been and talking about his style ("Just Shatner!") which Shatner could apply to anything, a theory which he suggested Shatner demonstrate with Itsy-Bitsy Spider. Shatner obliged once, with a few waves of his hand and his oddly thrilling overdramatic-yet-deadpan delivery... And then he got up out of his seat and did it all again, this time at twice the volume, fairly singing at parts, with elaborate gestures that bent his body intriguingly for a man his age and would've cost someone an eye or two had they been standing close enough. Conan watched as I did, growing from surprised to awed to mesmerized to adoring to jumping around (I on my bed, he on top of his desk again).
Y'all should've been there. It was fantastic television. [love]
...And it seems I will start tomorrow morning by jumping out of a perfectly good airplane myself. Huh.
I've seen him strip to fill airtime, I've seen him string-dance and mock his crazy hair and lick all manner of things and say things with a straight face no mere mortal could manage, but tonight. Tonight, Conan did a hoe-down on his desk to Lynyrd Skynyrd's Sweet Home Alabama as gun-totin' Jesus was pulled along in a kid-size replica of a NASCAR racecar.
And sometimes, he has guests who not only live up to that kind of lead-in but surpass it.
Conan then looked into the future (all the way to the year 2000!) with William Shatner (for whom it took the audience a good 20 seconds to stop screaming and clapping), who later described himself as feeling akin to an Oreo while lewdly illustrating his screams of I've discovered the secret! It's sex! and throbbing and demanding Gimme a pelvic thrust! of Max, but then. Oh, then Conan brought up the universal rave reviews for his album, Has Been and talking about his style ("Just Shatner!") which Shatner could apply to anything, a theory which he suggested Shatner demonstrate with Itsy-Bitsy Spider. Shatner obliged once, with a few waves of his hand and his oddly thrilling overdramatic-yet-deadpan delivery... And then he got up out of his seat and did it all again, this time at twice the volume, fairly singing at parts, with elaborate gestures that bent his body intriguingly for a man his age and would've cost someone an eye or two had they been standing close enough. Conan watched as I did, growing from surprised to awed to mesmerized to adoring to jumping around (I on my bed, he on top of his desk again).
Y'all should've been there. It was fantastic television. [love]
...And it seems I will start tomorrow morning by jumping out of a perfectly good airplane myself. Huh.