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A New force in comdey "game show parodys"

Now Camelot Magazine is proud to present an article from 1992 by Pulitzer Prize owner Jonathan Niedermeyer.

I was watching this program, SNL, and I watch it every day. I record the episodes on my VHS recording device that I own, and I rewatch it over and over again. I do this for my reasons. My wife left me a few weeks ago 'cause she said, "Jon, if you do that one more time, I'm going to leave you,"

I said "Leave. You're not as important as this is."

So she left. She broke my heart. I cried for days and days, in this unblinking world I blinked, and I lost everything. But I had to, you see. I had to continue to watch the Saturday Night Live each and every day, even when it was not Saturday, erroneous as that might be to the title, and I apologize to you, Lorne Michaels, for doing such terrible things, but the thought was, and it still is in my mind, strong and powerful. It was the weeks ago that I saw it, this first instance, and I had never seen this before. I had assumed it was a game show. They have contestants on and a host, and a set much like a game show set, and I said, "Okay, clearly this is a new game show I have never heard of or seen before. Odd, because I am an expert in game shows and know all of them. A game show must have slipped by me in the secret. How clever for this game show to sneak by me. I shall sit back and watch it with rapt attention."

But as I watched it, noticing the answers were not of the conventional answers, but of odd, mysterious answers that befit no rational thought, I had come to realize something horrific but enthrilling. I was treduped by this comedy show. This was not a new game show, but a sketch mocking the very foundations of the game show. It was then that I had to experience it all, this new and wondrous idea of mockery of game shows. I shall know the SNL cast members more than I knew me. At times, I thought I was the entirety of the various SNL cast. I thought I had split. It was very hard to be split into several different bodies, walking around, experiencing it, but I had maintained true. My wife was, of course, unproductive. She yelled at me and claimed that I had fallen off the wagon. Of course I had. I had seen the face of God in 30 Rockefeller Center. I knew it all too well.

It was soon after this that we lost track  for a wile of Jonathan Niedermeyer. We suspect he was somewhere in the Andes, carving out existence as a cult leader.

Boy did that turn out great you done good today Melissa Benoist

No you big God damn idiot, keep dwelling on the argument It won't end up badly.

No you big God damn idiot, keep dwelling on the argument It won't end up badly.

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