I really, really wanted to be on this show more than any show in my entire life. I don’t think this is still in syndication, but if it is and you know where I can find it on TV, holla. Oh, and if you ever hear of them putting this out on DVD, I’ll be purchasing every season.
Oh, and in case you really want to know how it ends, and to see some hot Super Sweep, the action continues below.
Happy Labor Day, everybody. Labor Day, which was created to give the workin’ man a day off, has signaled the end of summer for generations. It’s also one of many holidays that don’t apply to journalists.
Not that I mind being at work on a low-key kind of day like today. I got my copy pushed early and I’ve been uploading to the Web and watching episodes of “Maury” on Fancast.
In a shocking move, this episode also deals with a woman who has about 11 possibilities for the father of her baby. In her epic words of wisdom, she observes, “I din’nt make him on my own, I ain’t gonna raise him on my own.” She then proceeds to beat the living crap out of the guy when he comes out on stage.
Maybe I’m still Mary Sunshine, Pollyanna of the Northern Panhandle, but I really can’t imagine NOT knowing who the father of your baby is. Maybe it’s because I’m good at serial monogamy. Managing ONE man is a full-time job for me on top of actually going to work. I couldn’t imagine trying to throw another one or six into the mix.
Oh … breaking news … You are NOT the father. And I love when they argue with science. “That test is wrong, I know he my baby daddy.”
My friends, knowing as you do that I love trash TV, got any other show recommendations for the second part of the day? Or should I not mix it up and keep on loving the decline of the human condition with paternity disputes?
This wouldn't be a bad idea.
In today’s otherwise benign adventures of me …
I’m watching “The Devil’s Advocate.” I think somehow, Regency Pictures negotiated with cable companies across the country that this movie be on about once — if not more — a day on some channel. Today, it’s on Encore’s Mystery channel — twice. In case you’re missing it now and you’ve really motivated, it’ll be on at 8 p.m. Yes. That’s right. Just more than six hours from now.
The highlight of this movie, I think, is the lesson we all can take from Charlize Theron — cutting your long, blonde, curly hair into a straight, brunette bob makes you lose your mind and see things.
Of course, Al Pacino offers up several nuggets of wisdom in it — “find the talent and delegate” and “always negotiating.” It also helps that he’s Satan and can speak a variety of languages and take on many other human forms. This may make my trip into the city every morning easier if I had those kinds of skills.
I’ve probably seen this movie at least 100 times but I’m watching it again because it’s Saturday, I’m lazy, I have nothing better to do at the minute and in the event that I decide it’s nap time, I can just plop over, curl up and sleep with it on and know I’m not missing anything important.
Also on right now in the Encore family of channels — “Dirty Dancing.” Yep. Guilty. Another movie I’ve seen countless times but will watch if it’s on because I like comfortable, easy and little-hassle TV.
A life principle to keep in mind: The movies you want to watch will always be on the channels you don’t pay for UNTIL you subscribe to them. At that point, nothing you want to watch ever will be on every channel you have.
But there’s always OnDemand. Last week, I went through the OnDemand and found the “Dating OnDemand” channel. Let me tell you … if you live somewhere that you have this (and I’m thinking you may have to be a Comcast customer) I suggest watching every single profile. It may be the hardest I’ve laughed in weeks. They’ve also got select clips of “Cheaters,” and well, if you know me, you know that made my week.
It’s the schadenfreude of it all … you watch shows like that and think, “Well, at least someone out there’s having a worse day than I am.”
(Wow … Saturday ramblings. Can’t beat ‘em. Better shower up. There’s got to be something downtown more entertaining than this goin’ on.)
There’s a reason you’re my favorite newspaper in the world!
The New York Post has an article online today which says, in a nutshell, “Hey, thanks bitches. You’ve really done wonders for both this city and women.”
Turns out not everybody thinks those women are clever, witty, relevant, “with-it” or hip.
Manolo More: How Carrie and Co. Ruined New York
The first paragraph talks about a woman who’s proud that she’s never seen an episode. I’m with her. She’s my soul sister in that. I saw a preview of one once and thought, “How f-ing stupid,” and never turned it back on. I knew girls in college, and even after, though, that would block of their entire nights. I knew girls who openly cried when the series ended. I know girls who will be at that movie on opening night.
I’ve never seen an episode of “Sex and the City.” And I won’t hang my head.
I don’t go to brunch to talk about random dudes I bang. My previous boyfriends don’t have clever nicknames. I only own a Coach purse because my mother got sick of my dirty hippie knapsack. Sigh.
But, I wanted to share the article … Maybe through putting light on the issue, more of us will come forward. There’s no shame!
OK, to be honest with you, I don’t know at whom I’m angrier.
The rednecks in this story or the elitist douchebag media that interviewed them.
West Virginia Keeps Its Distance from Obama
I think rednecks are in the lead because of these quotes:
“I heard that Obama is a Muslim and his wife’s an atheist,” said Mr Simpson, drawing on a cigarette outside the fire station in Williamson, a coalmining town of 3,400 people surrounded by lush wooded hillsides.
(Oh, well played, sir. Well played. I also heard that he eats babies and kittens and flosses with the intestines of puppies, but you left that out. Crap!)
Josh Fry, a 24-year-old ambulance driver from Williamson, insisted he was not racist but said he would feel more comfortable with Mr McCain, the 71-year-old Vietnam war hero, in the White House. “I want someone who is a full-blooded American as president,” he said.
(… What? You’re looking to make Squanto president? ‘Cause last I checked, unless you’re a Native American, none of us, really, are full-blooded American, right? Maybe I’m confused. I know that I hate the French. I’d not be for the French-American candidate.)
Here’s a little public service announcement for any readers who aren’t from West Virginia: These critters DO NOT speak for the rest of us.
Here’s a little note to elitist douchebag national media: STOP exploiting the critters. You wouldn’t have gotten ANY answers like that if you’d gone to Charleston, Huntington, Morgantown, Wheeling … you get the point. You got those answers because you went looking for them. You found remote places with uneducated, backwards people and asked them if they’d vote for a woman or a black man.
AUGH. Really. Not enough duct tape. Not enough duct tape for today. The pieces of my head are coming apart. And tomorrow, when Hillary whips the ever-living crap out of Obama here, every talking head on cable TV will point out how we’re all a bunch of backwoods racists. West Virginia hates the black man! Clearly! We talked to voters. They hate Muslims, too.
It’s a miracle any of us get anywhere with stuff like this happening … if it’s not a fake degree getting handed out, it’s Jim Bob at the Clip n’ Cut spitting his Red Man on the ground and saying he doesn’t trust the black man because he’s not American.
Thanks, guys. Thanks a whole hell of a lot.
This show?
I was reminded of “The Sifl and Olly Show” today. I miss that show.
But I’m the kind of girl who finds talking sock puppets entertaining.
Just look at his face. His baby face. That grin that says, “You can trust me! I’m going to let you cry on me. We’ll be best friends. We can go buy Jimmy Choo shoes together to go with your new Coach bag.”
The first step to overcoming my addiction to “Cheaters” is for me to admit that I do, in fact, have an addiction, that I’m powerless over it and turn it over to God, right? Is that how it works?
OK. I’m not ready yet. I was just going through the DVR list and it’s, well, pathetic. I have three things that get recorded every time they’re on — “Cheaters,” “WKRP in Cincinnati” (a true classic as far as television goes) and “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” (which I hope FX has the common sense to renew for a fourth season).
Second and third items on the list? Not so bad. Respectable, even. That first one? Oof. Not to mention that when I programmed the DVR, it picks up every episode on every channel every day. Because most of them are repeats, I end up deleting about 75 percent of them. The other 25 percent give me that great glimpse into that, “Well, at least it’s not MY life” world we all find so delicious.
Maybe it’s because I consider myself pretty lucky at this love thing right now. It wouldn’t even cross my mind that I’m being cheated on for a multitude of reasons, not all of them obvious. I’m secure and loved and all of that, so maybe that part of me that craves chaos likes this show so much because I get to see it … in living color. On 40-inch high definition.
It’s the same with “To Catch a Predator” on Dateline NBC. I love seeing these simpletons get confronted by Chris Hansen. It makes my day. Maybe because for ONE sliver of time, I can take comfort in knowing somebody’s having a worse day than I am.
If nothing else, it’s good sleeping TV. You don’t have to pay attention to understand what’s going on. And every half-hour, it starts all over again.
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