MY LOUSY WORLD: Oscar Meyer and Gilligan’s Island


Valentine’s Day has passed, but the romantic dinner my dog Ginger and I shared is fresh in my memory. Nothing says “I love you” like Top Ramen. She gazed into my eyes like she’d died and gone to heaven.

That’s how romantic holidays are for us bachelors who haven’t dated for a coon’s age. We love our pets passionately and fantasize about TV vixens. I’m between big screen girlfriends, but Fox News’ Kimberly Guilfoyle is a mistress-in-waiting. Anytime you find beauty, intelligence and humor in the same curvaceous package, you don’t just walk away wondering what might have been.

But KG shouldn’t get too comfortable in the No. 1 slot. If I believed in reincarnation, I’d want to come back as an offspring of the British royal family, who land women WAY over their heads.

Have you seen these breathtaking chicks? Kate Middleton and Meghan Markle … all I can say is “YUM!” I haven’t seen two gals this hot since Ginger and Maryanne. I’m not saying Bill and Harry don’t have a few things going for them, but Harry is a flaming redhead and I’d put my thinning hairline up against William’s any day. Oh but so sorry my saintly mother wasn’t officially a queen!

Now, you might ponder, “Is that all he does is watch TV?” No, I do have a fairly rich life removed from the couch. There’s crossword puzzles and bowling among a few other things. It’s not like I’m uninteresting and totally sedentary.

But yes, I spend plenty of time staring at the tube, so will offer observances people too cheap to spring for cable probably aren’t aware of.

• I wish William Devane would shut his yap about the riches that await those investing in silver. Yes, Billy, your riches mount every half hour they show your pitch on Fox News. But quit assuming we blue collar gamblers have tens of thousands laying around surveying the greatest investment yield. You’re filthy-rich; we get it … so just retire and join a bowling league, for God’s sake!

• Conversely, that oft-advertised “My Pillow” is all it’s cracked up to be and more. When you sleep and nap as much as I do, you need a solid head anchor. For years I’ve bought those Wal-Mart cheapies, and after going to sleep with a cloud under my head, I’ll wake up for bathroom breaks with my face in a pool of cold slobber, resting on a backpack full of shifting nerf footballs.

A lady gave me one of her extra My Pillows and six months later, it’s barely changed shape. The My Pillow guy chirps almost as much as the silver guy, but at least he’s hawking something not just wealthy ex-actors can afford. At least Mike Lindell actually invented that groundbreaking pillow; silver was around long before Devane.

• I’ve about had my fill of precocious kids on sitcoms. Case in point: that little Asian girl the gay couple on Modern Family adopted as a baby. She was cute when she did little more than coo and gurgle, but years later, she dryly mumbles, “I don’t like where this is going,” or “How’s that working for you?” Kids that age are more likely to say, “I hurt my bum,” so lay off the brilliantly insightful, precocious gems. As Elaine on Seinfeld once said, “No one is buying it and you shouldn’t be selling it.”

• It might not be as healthy as Top Ramen, but in the same scrumptious league is the good ol’ baloney sandwich. I was weaned on baloney; mom packed them almost every day for school. Washed down with cartons of chocolate milk, that hauntingly good taste never escapes a man. Whether with mayo or my ketchup preference, it’s a wild, fanastic party in your mouth.

In fact, my fantasy is a picnic on the beach with Meghan Markle. On ice in the champagne bucket rests bottles of “Fairlife” chocolate milk. I open the picnic basket to reveal several baloney sandwiches, and Meghan kisses me so long and hard on the mouth, I lose consciousness. When I wake up, she and Kate Middleton are in the middle of a cat fight.

Is that scenario likely to play out? Probably not, but stranger dreams have come true.