Remember how awesome Mr. Rogers was, you guys?
I loved him.
And my favorite part was when the trolley came to take us to the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. I had a total girl crush on Lady Aberlin. She was hot.
King Friday was a wicked dick, right?
I loved when Mr. Rogers fed the fish and they played that trippy music.
And the sandbox!
That was the balls, wasn’t it?
It was particularly awesome when Mr. Rogers made truck noises when he pushed plastic cups around in it. I about peed my Wonder Woman underoos when he did that, I swear it.
I loved that song, too–Everybody’s Fancy. That was my jam.
But did you ever wonder what’s up with Mr. McFeeley? Like, what’s the situation with that wig? I’m about 90% sure he’s secretly a gay prostitute hit man. Probably. I mean, the name says it all–Mr. McFeeleyalltheboysontheirfancypartswithhis”gun.” Just don’t tell anyone about his real identity because he’s got a 38 in the mail bag and he will totally pop a cap in your ass or pistol whip you or something. Don’t let the friendly blue uniform fool you, neighbors. It’s all a ruse.
Imagine Mr. McFeeley standing over you, Pulp Fiction style, because you ganked a cookie from Mr. Rogers.
Does Fred Rogers look like a bitch to you? Say “what” again motherfucker!
And what was really in those packages he delivered? I mean, this was thirtynanahumhum years ago, so my memory might be failing me, but they were always in a plain brown wrapper, weren’t they? That’s because they contained either cocaine or a little something for the giggidy-giggidy with Mrs. Rogers when Mr. Rogers got home and had to explain where he was all fucking afternoon.
“I was out buying you this, honey! I swear!”
I wonder if she knew he had a Secret Lair with a Secret Sweater and Secret Sneakers and Secret Fish.
She must have been clueless because why else would he change into his sweater and then change back into his sports coat before he left? And you can say that he did that because he didn’t want to get any play sand on his work clothes, sure, but you can just brush sand off.
There’s really no need to change your clothes.
How shocked would we be if Mr. Rogers was all “today, boys and girls, we’re going to talk about kittens!” and then on the way home he stops at the Neighborhood Bar and gets his gin on and then BLAM! He goes home and smacks his bitch up.
We’d be pretty shocked, wouldn’t we?
That would be crazy.
It’s always the quiet ones. That’s what they say.
My mom once had this friend who’s cousin’s friend’s ex-wife’s former housekeeper’s son worked on his show and he said that this one time, they put a naked stripper in the closet, and when he opened it to get his sweater, there she was! But he gave no reaction at all. He just kept singing his song because he was wicked no fun like that.
I would laugh if someone put a naked stripper in my closet (please someone put a naked stripper in my closet).
What if instead of changing into his sweater, he came in and had to like, take a wicked pee and ran into the bathroom and sang the song in there…
“I have always wanted to have a neighbor just! like! you!” and as he sang the just! like! you! part he shook the dew off his lily in three little shakes. You know, for emphasis.
Anyhoodle, I loved me some Mr. Rogers. Also, Captain Kangaroo and Romper Room. I’m still waiting for that lady to see me in her magic romper, bomper, stomper boo mirror thing though.
I’m still out here in “televisionland.”
Just say my name bitch, and let’s end this thing!