For the past few summers, MTV has filled my skull with a steady diet of poorly dialogued, date-related programming, and underground rap/rock hip-hop shows hosted by ugly black dudes sitting in an overly-cushy studio. Whether it be "Next," "Date My Mom," "Parental Control," "Room Raiders" - and, in a similar case, its offspring, where you simply put the name of a party state after it, or whatever, my television's ass has been bright pink with overuse. But now, what do we have here, MTV? A fusing of the two genres of shows you continually pump out? It's true.
Advertising itself as "your" show, the newest take on the oft-hilarious, even oft-er-overdone "yo momma" jokes comes, originally titled, "YO MOMMA." In this showcase of raw, pure talent, a gang of several combatants will spar, spitting out jokes about everything from the other person's clothes, to their weight (either obesity or skinniness, there never seems to be a joke about a person of just average proportion), to their mothers. And it's just not a group of schmoes, oh no. It's a group of schmoes from suburb of Los Angeles, seemingly chosen at random for hilarity's sake. And to top it all of, it is hosted by dongzilla himself, our little foreigner, Wilmer Valderrama! That's right, this guy:
Better known as 'Fez' on "That '70's Show," Wilmer has decided to venture into the television market he so helped establish. After all, he does have his own production company, aptly titled "Wilmer Valderrama Productions," which displays a cute banner ad upon the [much welcomed] completion to every episode. But we'll get to our 'boy' Wilmer in just a second. First, let's dissect how this show operates, and I promise, it'll be a little less painful than watching an actual episode (or, in my case, 6 or 7).
As is television standard, no show is complete without at least a half-way established hierarchy or villains. In Yo Momma's case, Wilmer sits atop the proverbial ladder while his stooges Jason and Sam do the heavy-hauling. In the start of each episode we are taken, forcibly, to a suburb of Los Angeles where we are met with a group of 20 or 25 people of all shapes, sizes, colors, and creations. After all, would it be as much fun if everyone was black and skinny as a rail? There needs to be that fat white guy to rip on, you see? Out of those people, 6 or so must "step up" and "throw down" on one another. Now, I'm not sure if these people know each other or what, but if some random guy from my town is talking about how below the poverty line I am, I'm a little freaked out.
Controlling the chaos, of course, is one of Wilmer's cronies, either the thugalicious Sam, who has possibly more white per capita than myself with a name like "Sam," and Jason, some sort of hybrid creature unleashed on this Earth, if only to confuse people about his true racial roots. I'm guessing Cuban, but I've been wrong in the past. Anyways, one of these boys is sent to keep the peace (or prevent it, knowing how this show operates). They then inform the 'contestants' of this great show that they are competing to see who has what it takes to compete against some other picked-out-of-a-hat Los Angeles town, and win $1000 cash money. The overall emphasis of cash money is important later on, so pay attention.
Then, as every contestant has stepped up to the imaginary chalked line, the showdown begins. Some jokes will actually be hilarious and get no response (ie: yo momma's so black, they use her bath water to dye bowling balls) and some will be so terrible, but elicit a tremendous pulse from the gazing onlookers (ie: yo momma's had more rappers in her than an iPod - am I riiiiight?) Either way, as the dust settles, either Sam or Jason must choose 2 to face off for a chance to battle the other dude later on in the show. And, as soon as that battle is done, we have our winner! From the first town. Then it's all rinse and repeat for the other guys until we come down to 2 final, final combatants.
Here's where our buddy Wilmer comes into play. After sitting on his large, grandiose ass for half of the show, Wilmer meets one of the players at his future opponent's house to get "dirt" on him or her for the final showdown. Here's where Mr. Valderrama earns his paycheck, truly earns that cash money he so enamors over. When checking the other guy's room, Wilmer will display no sense of privacy. He'll be picking up things, playing with the guy's underwear, trying on the guy's clothes, picking through the guy's stash of dirty magazines, everything. And half of the time, the stuff, erm, "dirt" they find isn't all that tragic. One example that sticks out in my head is where Wilmy found an "extra sensitive" condom in one person's room and started to feign tears. "I'm an extra sensitive guy..." he quips, to no response. Lifestyles extra sensitive condoms...for guys. With feelings. Yep.
After Wilm makes a complete jackass out of himself in that person's home, he then throws the show into the rinse cycle once again, and helps his opponent rummage through his trash. It's actually quite amusing to watch them pick up and sniff the underwear and panties that have been lying on the floor for what could be weeks. Why would anyone do that? It's just one of those things in life that makes as little sense as possible, but we don't care anyways - sort of like organized religion.
When the show picks back up from one of MTV's long, drawn-out commercial breaks (where they plug the '10-Spot' for a good 2 minutes of such), we find ourselves outside some sort of factory at night-time, in downtown Los Angeles. The stage is set, and the stage is divided between town A and town B. In one corner, you have the winner from town A, and his group of friends, family, illegal immigrants, whatever. And in the other, town B, etcetera. And after Wilmer, Sam, and Jason explain to the viewers at home, as well as the two who are battling that this is a 3-round affair, we are ready to begin. Usually, the first round is joke-specific, like "Yo momma's teeth" or something. The second round is most likely about the other guy's "crib." And the final round is the much anticipated KNOCK-OUT PUNCH! It's your one chance to prove yourself, of course, and win one for your town! And that thousand dollars cash money. Thank the Lord, we're almost through!
Once the 3 rounds have completed, Wilmer and his goons whisper to each other some nonsensical, strewn together horse shit about how both guys had their flaws, their good points, and had the crowd working for them at one point or another. Then, eliciting the dazed calm you'd expect from an LA country cocaine dealer, Wilmer slams down his hand and simultaneously summons a name - that of today's winner! Yay! Show over, right? Well, kind of.
We then hear a 10-second piece from the loser on why he didn't bring his "A-game" pr how he thought he was better, or whatever lie they're convincing themselves of. Then Wilmer jumps back and forth and congratulates the day's champion, as if this was the only moment in the entire goddamn half-hour worth emoting about - but I understand his reason why. Wilms then proclaims that so and so is the day's best, and they have won not only the bragging rights for their town, but for one thousand dollars cash money! It's that reason and that reason alone that I watch every single episode I can. What reason is that? Well, seeing as how Wilmer is not of this country, his voice still maintains that awkward accent, which makes cash money sound so incredibly ridiculous that you just can't help but smile and want to pull the ears off the side of your head. It's truly a remarkable program, really. A terrific half-hour that flies by as if it were only 30 minutes. Wilmer then crosses his arms and we roll credits. Genius.
Now that we've practically gone over the show from the inside out, what's left to be said about the show? Or Sam? Jason? Wilmer? I thought I'd offer you all a little profile for each of the boys, just for kicks.
Name: Sam
Ethnicity: Black(?)
Hobbies: Mismatching clothing, standing atop high, abandoned Los Angeles buildings, the word "arright"
Hates: Wilmer's fashion sense
Name: Jason
Ethnicity: 
Hobbies: Looking dissenting, shilling products for DC Clothing Company, styling his facial hair into all sorts of fun, festive shapes
Hates: Italian food, his Napoleon complex
Name: Wilmer Valderrama, Fez
Ethnicity: Some sort of Latino, I'm guessing
Hobbies: Mispronouncing everyday syllables, looking "tuff," 14 year old girls, handing out cash money
Hates: People with a penis smaller than his, and believe me, he'll know.
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