康熙來了 2012-03-14 大S代班 會模仿也是能出人頭地

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March 14, 2012
Tipster Rednimer

140 thoughts on “康熙來了 2012-03-14 大S代班 會模仿也是能出人頭地”

  1. 兩個小朋友真的很可愛.會為對方加油.
    對方緊張.還會拍拍對方的肩膀互相鼓勵.
    如果真的有機會進娛樂圈.
    希望他們還能保有這份純真.

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  4. Lulu真的不行啦！只会那一招，而且每次对谈时都大笑得很假看了很不舒服⋯⋯ 最后那个黄豪平超赞！！几个人模仿得都很像，更棒的是有抓到内在逻辑，临机应变超有梗！

    Reply ↓

  13. So, there’s a man crawling through the desert.He’d decided to try his
    SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the
    badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn’t
    get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell
    phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in
    an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here.He
    stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran outand
    he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that
    he’d paid attention to the sun and thought he’d figured out which way was north,
    so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or
    so and he’d be back to the small town he’d gotten gas in last.He thinks
    about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based uponhow dark it
    actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he’s afraid
    that he’ll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So,he puts on some sun
    block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplicationlater, brings an
    umbrella he’d had in the back of the SUV with him to givehim a little shade,
    pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottlein case he gets that
    desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it
    might have water in it, and heads out in thedirection he thinks is
    right.He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he’s really
    thirsty. He’sbeen sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He’s
    reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still
    feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket
    is really getting tempting now. He knows that it’s mainly water and some ethanol
    and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep
    people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, andwhether the
    poison would be worse than dying of thirst.He pushes on, trying to get
    to that small town before dark.By the end of the day he starts getting
    worried. He figures he’s been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his
    watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he
    should be close to thetown. But he doesn’t recognize any of this. He had to
    cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn’t remember coming through
    it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and
    that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself
    that he’s close, and that after dark he’ll start seeing the town lights over one
    of these hills, and that’ll be all he needs.As it gets dim enough that
    he starts stumbling over small rocks and things,he finds a spot and sits
    down to wait for full dark and the town lights.Full dark comes before he
    knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands backup and turns all the way
    around. He sees nothing but stars.He wakes up the next morning feeling
    absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they’re
    full of sand. He so thirsty that he can’t even swallow. He barely got any sleep
    because it was so cold. He’d forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert
    and hadn’t noticed it the night before because he’d been in his car.He
    knows the Rule of Threes – three minutes without air, three days without water,
    three weeks without food – then you die. Some people can make it a little
    longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat
    isn’t the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water,
    this is his last day.He rinses his mouth out with a little of the
    windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to
    see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone
    numb? Is it just inhis mind? He’s not sure. He’ll go a little farther, and
    if he still doesn’tfind water, he’ll try drinking some of the
    fluid.Then he has to face his next, harder question – which way does he
    go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that
    he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no
    idea what to do.Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he
    knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points
    himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking.As he walks,
    the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before,
    soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He
    starts getting worried at that – when you stop sweating he knows that means
    you’re in trouble – usually right before heat stroke.He decides that
    it’s time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can’t waitany longer – if he
    passes out, he’s dead. He stops in the shade of a largerock, takes the
    bottle out, opens it, and takes a mouthful. He slowlyswallows it, making it
    last as long as he can. It feels so good in his dryand cracked throat that
    he doesn’t even care about the nasty taste. He takesanother mouthful, and
    makes it last too. Slowly, he drinks half the bottle.He figures that since
    he’s drinking it, he might as well drink enough tomake some difference and
    keep himself from passing out.He’s quit worrying about the denaturing of
    the wiper fluid. If it kills him,it kills him – if he didn’t drink it, he’d
    die anyway. Besides, he’s prettysure that whatever substance they denature
    the fluid with is just designed to make you sick – their way of keeping winos
    from buying cheap wiper fluid for the ethanol content. He can handle throwing
    up, if it comes to that.He walks. He walks in the hot, dry, windless
    desert. Sand, rocks, hills,dunes, the occasional scrawny cactus or dried
    bush. No sign of water.Sometimes he’ll see a little movement to one side or
    the other, but whatever moved is usually gone before he can focus his eyes on
    it. Probably birds, lizards, or mice. Maybe snakes, though they usually move
    more at night. He’s careful to stay away from the movements.After a
    while, he begins to stagger. He’s not sure if it’s fatigue, heatstroke
    finally catching him, or maybe he was wrong and the denaturing of the wiper
    fluid was worse than he thought. He tries to steady himself, and keep
    going.After more walking, he comes to a large stretch of sand. This is
    good! Heknows he passed over a stretch of sand in the SUV – he remembers
    doingdonuts in it. Or at least he thinks he remembers it – he’s getting
    woozyenough and tired enough that he’s not sure what he remembers any more
    or ifhe’s hallucinating. But he thinks he remembers it. So he heads off into
    it,trying to get to the other side, hoping that it gets him closer to the
    town.He was heading for a town, wasn’t he? He thinks he was. He isn’t
    sure any more. He’s not even sure how long he’s been walking any more. Is it
    still morning? Or has it moved into afternoon and the sun is going down again?
    It must be afternoon – it seems like it’s been too long since he started
    out.He walks through the sand.After a while, he comes to a big
    dune in the sand. This is bad. He doesn’tremember any dunes when driving
    over the sand in his SUV. Or at least hedoesn’t think he remembers any. This
    is bad.But, he has no other direction to go. Too late to turn back now.
    He figuresthat he’ll get to the top of the dune and see if he can see
    anything fromthere that helps him find the town. He keeps going up the
    dune.Halfway up, he slips in the bad footing of the sand for the second
    or thirdtime, and falls to his knees. He doesn’t feel like getting back up –
    he’lljust fall down again. So, he keeps going up the dune on his hand and
    knees.While crawling, if his throat weren’t so dry, he’d laugh. He’s
    finallygotten to the hackneyed image of a man lost in the desert – crawling
    throughthe sand on his hands and knees. If would be the perfect image, he
    imagines, if only his clothes were more ragged. The people crawling through the
    desertin the cartoons always had ragged clothes. But his have lasted without
    anyrips so far. Somebody will probably find his dessicated corpse half
    buried in the sand years from now, and his clothes will still be in fine shape
    -shake the sand out, and a good wash, and they’d be wearable again. He
    wishes his throat were wet enough to laugh. He coughs a little instead, and it
    hurts.He finally makes it to the top of the sand dune. Now that he’s at
    the top,he struggles a little, but manages to stand up and look around. All
    he seesis sand. Sand, and more sand. Behind him, about a mile away, he
    thinks hesees the rocky ground he left to head into this sand. Ahead of him,
    moredunes, more sand. This isn’t where he drove his SUV. This is Hell. Or
    close enough.Again, he doesn’t know what to do. He decides to drink the
    rest of the wiperfluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle, and
    is removing thecap, when he glances to the side and sees something.
    Something in the sand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees
    something strange. It’s a flat area, in the sand. He stops taking the cap of the
    bottle off, and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular. And it’s
    dark – darker than the sand. And, there seems to be something in the middle of
    it, but he can’t tell what it is. He looks as hard as he can, and still can tell
    fromhere. He’s going to have to go down there and look.He puts the
    bottle back in his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune.After a few
    steps, he realizes that he’s in trouble – he’s not going to be able to keep his
    balance. After a couple of more sliding, tottering steps, he falls and starts to
    roll down the dune. The sand it so hot when his body hits it that for a minute
    he thinks he’s caught fire on the way down – like a movie car wreck flashing
    into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it ever even hits the ground. He
    closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop
    rolling.He stops, at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he
    finds enoughenergy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and
    clothes. Whenhe clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that
    the dark spotin the sand it still there and he hadn’t just imagined
    it.So, seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand is still there, he
    beginsto crawl towards it. He’d get up and walk towards it, but he doesn’t
    seem tohave the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final
    stagesof dehydration he figures, as he crawls. If this place in the sand
    doesn’thave water, he’ll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his
    lastchance.He gets closer and closer, but still can’t see what’s in
    the middle of thedark area. His eyes won’t quite focus any more for some
    reason. And liftinghis head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up
    trying. He justkeeps crawling.Finally, he reaches the area he’d seen
    from the dune. It takes him a minute of crawling on it before he realizes that
    he’s no longer on sand – he’s now crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone
    with some kind of marking on it – a pattern cut into the stone. He’s too tired
    to stand up and try to see what the pattern is – so he just keeps crawling. He
    crawls towards the center,where his blurry eyes still see something in the
    middle of the dark stonearea.His mind, detached in a strange way,
    notes that either his hands and knees are so burnt by the sand that they no
    longer feel pain, or that this darkstone, in the middle of a burning desert
    with a pounding, punishing sunoverhead, doesn’t seem to be hot. It almost
    feels cool. He considers lyingdown on the nice cool surface.Cool,
    dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He’sprobably in
    the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down anddying, and just
    imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon thebeautiful women
    carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving hima drink. Then
    he’ll know he’s gone.He decides against laying down on the cool stone.
    If he’s going to die herein the middle of this hallucination, he at least
    wants to see what’s in thecenter before he goes. He keeps
    crawling.It’s the third time that he hears the voice before he realizes
    what he’shearing. He would swear that someone just said, “Greetings,
    traveler. You donot look well. Do you hear me?”He stops crawling. He
    tries to look up from where he is on his hands andknees, but it’s too much
    effort to lift his head. So he tries somethingdifferent – he leans back and
    tries to sit up on the stone. After a fewseconds, he catches his balance,
    avoids falling on his face, sits up, andtries to focus his eyes. Blurry. He
    rubs his eyes with the back of his handsand tries again. Better this
    time.Yep. He can see. He’s sitting in the middle of a large, flat, dark
    expanseof stone. Directly next to him, about three feet away, is a white
    post orpole about two inches in diameter and sticking up about four or five
    feetout of the stone, at an angle.And wrapped around this white rod,
    tail with rattle on it hovering andseeming to be ready to start rattling, is
    what must be a fifteen foot longdesert diamondback rattlesnake, looking
    directly at him.He stares at the snake in shock. He doesn’t have the
    energy to get up andrun away. He doesn’t even have the energy to crawl away.
    This is it, hisfinal resting place. No matter what happens, he’s not going
    to be able tomove from this spot.Well, at least dying of a bite from
    this monster should be quicker thandying of thirst. He’ll face his end like
    a man. He struggles to sit up alittle straighter. The snake keeps watching
    him. He lifts one hand and wavesit in the snake’s direction, feebly. The
    snake watches the hand for amoment, then goes back to watching the man,
    looking into his eyes.Hmmm. Maybe the snake had no interest in biting
    him? It hadn’t rattled yet -that was a good sign. Maybe he wasn’t going to
    die of snake bite after all.He then remembers that he’d looked up when
    he’d reached the center herebecause he thought he’d heard a voice. He was
    still very woozy – he waslikely to pass out soon, the sun still beat down on
    him even though he wasnow on cool stone. He still didn’t have anything to
    drink. But maybe he hadactually heard a voice. This stone didn’t look
    natural. Nor did that whitepost sticking up out of the stone. Someone had to
    have built this. Maybethey were still nearby. Maybe that was who talked to
    him. Maybe this snakewas even their pet, and that’s why it wasn’t
    biting.He tries to clear his throat to say, “Hello,” but his throat is
    too dry. Allthat comes out is a coughing or wheezing sound. There is no way
    he’s goingto be able to talk without something to drink. He feels his
    pocket, and thebottle with the wiper fluid is still there. He shakily pulls
    the bottle out,almost losing his balance and falling on his back in the
    process. This isn’tgood. He doesn’t have much time left, by his reckoning,
    before he passesout.He gets the lid off of the bottle, manages to
    get the bottle to his lips,and pours some of the fluid into his mouth. He
    sloshes it around, and thenswallows it. He coughs a little. His throat feels
    better. Maybe he can talknow.He tries again. Ignoring the snake, he
    turns to look around him, hoping tospot the owner of this place, and croaks
    out, “Hello? Is there anyone here?”He hears, from his side, “Greetings.
    What is it that you want?”He turns his head, back towards the snake.
    That’s where the sound had seemedto come from. The only thing he can think
    of is that there must be aspeaker, hidden under the snake, or maybe built
    into that post. He decidesto try asking for help.”Please,” he croaks
    again, suddenly feeling dizzy, “I’d love to not bethirsty any more. I’ve
    been a long time without water. Can you help me?”Looking in the
    direction of the snake, hoping to see where the voice wascoming from this
    time, he is shocked to see the snake rear back, open itsmouth, and speak. He
    hears it say, as the dizziness overtakes him and hefalls forward, face first
    on the stone, “Very well. Coming up.”A piercing pain shoots through his
    shoulder. Suddenly he is awake. He sitsup and grabs his shoulder, wincing at
    the throbbing pain. He’s momentarilydisoriented as he looks around, and then
    he remembers – the crawl across thesand, the dark area of stone, the snake.
    He sees the snake, still wrappedaround the tilted white post, still looking
    at him.He reaches up and feels his shoulder, where it hurts. It feels
    slightly wet.He pulls his fingers away and looks at them – blood. He feels
    his shoulderagain – his shirt has what feels like two holes in it – two
    puncture holes -they match up with the two aching spots of pain on his
    shoulder. He had beenbitten. By the snake.”It’ll feel better in a
    minute.” He looks up – it’s the snake talking. Hehadn’t dreamed it. Suddenly
    he notices – he’s not dizzy any more. And moreimportantly, he’s not thirsty
    any more – at all!”Have I died? Is this the afterlife? Why are you
    biting me in theafterlife?””Sorry about that, but I had to bite
    you,” says the snake. “That’s the way Iwork. It all comes through the bite.
    Think of it as natural medicine.””You bit me to help me? Why aren’t I
    thirsty any more? Did you give me adrink before you bit me? How did I drink
    enough while unconscious to not bethirsty any more? I haven’t had a drink
    for over two days. Well, except forthe windshield wiper fluid… hold it,
    how in the world does a snake talk?Are you real? Are you some sort of Disney
    animation?””No,” says the snake, “I’m real. As real as you or anyone is,
    anyway. Ididn’t give you a drink. I bit you. That’s how it works – it’s what
    I do. Ibite. I don’t have hands to give you a drink, even if I had water
    justsitting around here.”The man sat stunned for a minute. Here he
    was, sitting in the middle of thedesert on some strange stone that should be
    hot but wasn’t, talking to asnake that could talk back and had just bitten
    him. And he felt better. Notgreat – he was still starving and exhausted, but
    much better – he was nolonger thirsty. He had started to sweat again, but
    only slightly. He felthot, in this sun, but it was starting to get lower in
    the sky, and the coolstone beneath him was a relief he could notice now that
    he was no longerdying of thirst.”I might suggest that we take care
    of that methanol you now have in yoursystem with the next request,”
    continued the snake. “I can guess why youdrank it, but I’m not sure how much
    you drank, or how much methanol was leftin the wiper fluid. That stuff is
    nasty. It’ll make you go blind in a day ortwo, if you drank enough of
    it.””Ummm, n-next request?” said the man. He put his hand back on his
    hurtingshoulder and backed away from the snake a little.”That’s the
    way it works. If you like, that is,” explained the snake. “Youget three
    requests. Call them wishes, if you wish.” The snake grinned at hisown joke,
    and the man drew back a little further from the show of fangs.”But there
    are rules,” the snake continued. “The first request is free. Thesecond
    requires an agreement of secrecy. The third requires the binding
    ofresponsibility.” The snake looks at the man seriously.”By the
    way,” the snake says suddenly, “my name is Nathan. Old Nathan,Samuel used to
    call me. He gave me the name. Before that, most of the Boundused to just
    call me ‘Snake’. But that got old, and Samuel wouldn’t standfor it. He said
    that anything that could talk needed a name. He was big intonames. You can
    call me Nate, if you wish.” Again, the snake grinned. “Sorryif I don’t offer
    to shake, but I think you can understand – my shake soundssomewhat
    threatening.” The snake give his rattle a little shake.
    wouldn’t it?””Yep,” replied
    Nate, “being as he’d be human too.””Has anyone ever seriously considered
    it?” asked Nate. “Any of those boundto secrecy, that is?””Well, of
    course, I think they’ve all seriously considered it at one time oranother.
    Being given that kind of responsibility makes you sit down andthink, or so
    I’m told. Samuel considered it several times. He’d often getdisgusted with
    humanity, come out here, and just hold the lever for a while.But he never
    pulled it. Or you wouldn’t be here.” Nate grinned some more.Jack sat
    down, well back from the lever. He looked thoughtful and puzzled atthe same
    time. After a bit, he said, “So this makes me the Judge ofhumanity? I get to
    decide whether they keep going or just end? Me?””That seems to be it,”
    agreed Nate.”What kind of criteria do I use to decide?” said Jack. “How
    do I make thisdecision? Am I supposed to decide if they’re good? Or too many
    of them arebad? Or that they’re going the wrong way? Is there a set of rules
    for that?””Nope,” replied Nate. “You pretty much just have to decide on
    your own. It’sup to you, however you want to decide it. I guess that you’re
    just supposedto know.””But what if I get mad at someone? Or some
    girl dumps me and I feelhorrible? Couldn’t I make a mistake? How do I know
    that I won’t screw up?”protested Jack.Nate gave his kind of
    snake-like shrug again. “You don’t. You just have totry your best,
    Jack.”Jack sat there for a while, staring off into the desert that was
    rapidlygetting dark, chewing on a fingernail.Suddenly, Jack turned
    around and looked at the snake. “Nate, was Samuel theone bound to this
    before me?””Yep,” replied Nate. “He was a good guy. Talked to me a lot.
    Taught me toread and brought me books. I think I still have a good pile of
    them buriedin the sand around here somewhere. I still miss him. He died a
    few monthsago.””Sounds like a good guy,” agreed Jack. “How did he
    handle this, when youfirst told him. What did he do?””Well,” said
    Nate, “he sat down for a while, thought about it for a bit, andthen asked me
    some questions, much like you’re doing.””What did he ask you, if you’re
    allowed to tell me?” asked Jack.”He asked me about the third request,”
    replied Nate.”Aha!” It was Jack’s turn to grin. “And what did you tell
    him?””I told him the rules for the third request. That to get the third
    requestyou have to agree to this whole thing. That if it ever comes to the
    pointthat you really think that humanity should be ended, that you’ll come
    hereand end it. You won’t avoid it, and you won’t wimp out.” Nate looked
    seriousagain. “And you’ll be bound to do it too, Jack.””Hmmm.” Jack
    looked back out into the darkness for a while.Nate watched him,
    waiting.”Nate,” continued Jack, quietly, eventually. “What did Samuel
    ask for withhis third request?”Nate sounded like he was grinning
    again as he replied, also quietly,”Wisdom, Jack. He asked for wisdom. As
    much as I could give him.”

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  14. 康熙來了就是有陳漢典﹐就是有他﹐想念以前沒有他的康熙來了就回去看以前的﹐不
    要一天到晚在這邊亂雞掰﹐要看就看不要吵﹗煩不煩啊。

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  15. 如果模仿的內容 

    沒有贏過服裝和化妝的相似

    沒讓人感覺在表演模仿

    只是覺得服裝和造型很威而已….

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  16. 陳漢典已經算有一定資歷了 康熙的許多來賓都比他資淺 要稱呼他前輩典哥 他卻還在扮丑角 大家看著都好尷尬 他被虧新人也不知該不該笑 他應該要調試自己的心態和角色了 難不成他要在康熙當一輩子丑角? 三十幾歲還在地上打滾? 那畫面有多尷尬

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    • 三十幾歲? 他才二十七歲啊﹐不知道不要亂講好不好。那麼年輕就出頭你做得到嗎﹖
      別人四十幾歲諧星也打來打去﹐又怎樣。
      你又管陳漢典做什麼﹐他也只是在賺大筆的輕鬆錢啊

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      • 就是說啊 有人有公司可以上班 有工廠可以作工 不願意去 跑到天橋上乞討 收入高又輕鬆 還理直氣壯地說 我這麼年輕就可以開賓士你辦得到嗎? 你管什麼我也只是在賺大筆的輕鬆錢啊

        Reply ↓

        • 待在公司一天做八小時﹐看電腦﹐沒人管你死活﹐或是在電視上當明星﹐有知名度﹐
          給人家娛樂讓人討論﹐想必所謂 “到天橋上乞討” 應該不是當明星吧

          到天橋上乞討收入高原來你知道﹐能高到你可以開賓士﹖你真厲害。 哈哈哈

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  18. 陈汉典可不可以不要再现眼了，抢镜头抢话抢风头，怀念以前没有陈汉典时代的康熙。今天随便一个模仿的都不知道强过他多少倍。

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    • 難道你以為康熙的崛起是純靠 小S 跟蔡康永??  沒有漢典這個丑角 請問小S要罵誰? 要吐曹誰? 要欺負誰? 陳漢典以他現在的身價 完全不用委屈在這，但這是他崛起的地方 他不好意思離開而已，今天的參賽者 誰主演了電影? 誰主演了舞台劇? 誰當過線上節目主持人?  你有本事你去上康熙，看你模仿的功力如何 再來說他濫

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      • 康熙沒有陳漢典的時候早就紅了 還得了金鐘獎 康熙這麼多年來都是收視最佳的帶狀綜藝 唯一輸掉的時候就是小S去生孩子 還有她剛回來 2006年那時候 等她要生第二胎 陳漢典加入當助理時 康熙因為捧紅黃國倫 收視非常好 陳漢典去演艋舺不在的期間 康熙每一集都是收視冠軍 有沒有陳漢典根本沒什麼影響 隨便換個新人 甚至沒有助理都沒差別 而小S或任何人都沒有欺負陳漢典 他們演的戲很多都是套好的 但是小S和一些人覺得陳漢典才華不夠倒是真的 是王偉忠想捧陳漢典 從一些報導上推測他們內部曾因此而爭執 最終還是依王偉忠的意思 說什麼是陳漢典不好意思離開 這種說法就完全是沒有事實根據的想像了

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      • 以前沒有陳漢典的時候 蔡康永還親自下來讓佩真打屁股呢 那時觀眾看得好歡樂 
        曾國城代班那兩集 康熙一樣吐槽他 欺負他 效果完全不是陳漢典能比的  現在有了陳漢典 康永小S不用再親自上陣  輪到陳漢典扮丑 我也笑不出來了 看他這個所謂的丑角被打 我還不如看蔡公康永曾公國城被打 陳漢典不如就去演他的電影吧 以他的身價完全不用委屈在康熙 我們也實在不想委屈他

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    • 除了在之前的姐妹陶心話和現在的康熙有播外,將來你也會在其它節目看到同樣的主題的,不知道是因為台灣人沒創意還是不怕悶.

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  26. 模仿小胖老师和青峰的很像 模仿费玉清那位超像（这段大S没心没肺的笑，仿佛回到了她娱乐百分百时）
    这一集好看

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  27. 好喜欢模仿费玉清的那位啊！！！！在我看过所有模仿费玉清的人里面唱歌最像最好的！！！！！

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  34. 好看的女生,难看的女生,还有介于两者之间好难看的女生…哈哈哈….roger模仿的很象啊….:D

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  41. 康永:你不會也來過康熙吧
    徐XX:有!!
    康永:你也來過!!!! 
    我笑死了   哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈

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