Imagine it as a barroom pick-up:
Got some Irish in you?
Because… I’m Irish.
That’s not how it goes.
(Ahem. [Makes “seductive” growling noise]?)
At any rate, Conan and the Emmys are hooking up again, trying to recapture the magic they had when he hosted in 2002, which seems like ages ago. Or four years, one or the other. It was, inarguably, a different era. Aniston and Pitt were one flesh. Osbournes jokes were the height of fashion. Housewives weren’t desperate, offices weren’t funny, Joey was but a twinkle in Satan’s eye, and “lost” only described certain heavily medicated producers who couldn’t find their way to the john.
Conan got good reviews, if you’ll recall. I wish him the best. I hope he takes the president of Finland as his plus-one. They could take the stage simultaneously to the strains of Foreigner’s “Double Vision.” Oh, man. I’m getting my hopes up. Gotta settle down.
You satisfied, Emmy watchers? Or would you rather see someone else take the reins?
addCredit(“Conan O’Brien: Timothy White/NBC”)