The Tragically Comic? Yeah, Like When A Clown Dies...

There's a certain unique kind of pleasurable pity that makes one feel a strange mix of sorry for the person and amused by that person. You know, like when you see a cute retard.

Another perfect example of this is one of my favorite human beings in the entire world. Jeanne Bice can be seen seemingly all hours of the day on QVC selling 'clothes' that can most generously be referred to as 'head-shakingly hideous'. Normally, awful clothes being sold by rhinestone encrusted old fat ladies would get a disgruntled 'hmm' for about 3 seconds before moving on down the cable tv cavalcade of shit.

But Ms. Bice is different. Her clothes are a monumental car wreck of awfulness, a generational human tragedy woven into a sweater. If ladies apparel was a tv show, her garments would be like Supertrain running over Manimal before plowing into the new Fantasy Island with Malcolm MacDowell. If you let wild, shit-throwing monkeys drink a gallon of coffee and go nuts with beads and a glue gun, you might come close to imitating Jeanne's 'style'. It's so bad it's good and then bad again and then Great!

The best part of watching her program 'The Quacker Factory' on QVC is watching her interact with the women who call in to praise her. You don't have to see the person on the other end of the line to know that there's about 50 cats in the house and that the 'Mr.' of the home left years ago. But where would we be without these 'free spirits'? Who would we desperately attempt not to laugh at while they're in earshot? Who would be the person you think of to always make you feel better about yourself?

The cute retard I guess.