So I was watching PBS the other night and I was hit by a revelation: stacking a mini pizza on top of another mini pizza and then cooking it is basically the same thing as a Chicago-style pizza, but without all the to-do. Then I started actually paying attention to PBS and realized the following: all PBS shows are sponsored by a group or an old dead person. It's always, "Seventy-Eight Minutes About Pottery, brought to you by the Joseph P. Marshall Foundation." What? Who is Joseph P. Marshall and why does he care so much about educating the nerdish and unemployed of America? Regardless, the concept therein is awesome: I need a foundation to support me.

Can you imagine it? "The Wickham Group is proud to present: Matt Loker getting slanted, just totally slanted, on Johnny Walker Blue." And why wouldn't someone want to support me? My parents did for eighteen years, and they described the experience as "leave already" and "why won't you leave." So there you go!

People used to have benefactors all the time. It all started back in Ancient Greece, where wise old men would take young nubile boys under their tutelage. And it was" well, kind of like every show on Bravo: gayer than a truck-stop handjob while watching Bravo. Flash forward one thousand years to the middle ages, where wizards would play benefactor to orphans who would one day become the King of Camelot. And in Victorian times, benefactors were convenient plot twists in Dickens novels. I think they took care of orphans too, but mainly the other thing.

In today's world, benefactors support PBS. Which is ironic for orphans, because they can't watch TV on account of their being so dead.

So potential sponsors, hear me out: I won't be all boring and shit like PBS. The only documentaries I've ever seen are hot tub episodes of The Real World. And you better believe I'd do away with the Kennedy Center Honors, or at least replace it with something that included a "best gangbang" category. I am everything that Public Broadcasting is not.

So what's up, Mountain Dew?