Slurry Beta

Infrequent ruminations on nothing.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Not Cohesive Enough for a Title

Once again, I apologize folks. It's been too long of a blog hiatus for someone on unsubsidized funemployment. I must admit, I've been keeping fairly busy although that's really no excuse for not giving my fans what they want. I actually posted an entry last week but took it down because it was the blogging equivalent of telling a dinner party you have bird flu and an aversion to washing your hands. Then asking them how they enjoyed your special hand-rolled tamales and fresh squeezed lemonade. Awkward.


On Sunday I was dealing with an extended late onset hangover from Friday night and managed to watch an hour and a half of VH1's Rock of Love, which is basically a show for people who just couldn't connect with Flavor of Love seasons one and two. And it was delightfully terrible; right up my alley. I don't know when the Emmy nominations come out but it'll probably sweep them. Hell, they might even throw in an honorary Oscar nomination for high art's sake.

Anyway, it stars a washed up Poison lead singer, Bret Michaels, who is looking for "love" from rock and roll groupies who weren't legal when his band was popular. You get the idea-it's not complicated but it's completely awesome.

Just as Dallas (who's most likely from Burbank) was exiting without giving Michaels his mandatory elimination smooch and I was THIS CLOSE to purchasing a DVR machine to tape the rest of the episodes, I began to feel very guilty. So guilty, in fact, that I remained motionless for an entire Scott Baio is 45 and Lame episode, which I sincerely regret. More on that when I can sit through an episode again.

Why was I paralyzed with guilt? Last week Angel Moroni accused me of having the television programming tastes of a 14 year old girl. It cut me deep. He's omnipotent, after all.

Well, I implore any of you to find a 14 year old girl who has the mental fortitude to sit through as many Real World episodes as I have whilst keeping up with the more current drama of Road Rules/Real World Challenge. It's not easy--sometimes they run the challenge shows with the same cast members as the current Real World season and it creates some sort of metaphysical paradox or whatever the nerd term is for "confusion". Or find me one that has the balls brass enough to watch even five minutes of Hogan Knows Best, which is a near impossibility. Dude's really protective of his untalented daughter. Has been for thirty episodes. Nobody under 18 has the attention span to deal with that.

Whatever, I am who I am. Deal with it. And why the hell does Moroni know so much about the TV interests of 14 year old girls?


So this week is Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. Instead of running a shark related program 65 per cent of the time, they run shark programming 100 per cent of the time. Now, don't get me wrong. I love sharks. I'd probably own one if it wasn't so aquatic but I find Shark Week completely misses the boat (pun intended). Half the programs completely downplay the danger sharks pose to humans and preach shark tolerance and conservation, which is obviously great. The other half? Programs such as: Top Five Eaten Alive (by sharks); Deadly Stripes: Tiger Sharks (tiger sharks eating humans); Shark Bites: A Statistical Guarantee; If You Swim in or Drink Water, A Shark Will Eat You. Do they think people aren't watching Shark Week ALL the time? Do we need to kill them all or save them?


After three years without a vehicle, I finally had to buckle down and purchase one. Minneapolis is truly great for biking but I need a set of wheels to impress the ladies. Unfortunately, I've been told the Subaru Outback I purchased is a car for lesbians. I thought the portrait of the Indigo Girls covering the hood would make me seem arty but apparently I was mistaken. It actually might be counterproductive.

Glad you stayed around until the end of this post?


At 11:08 PM, Blogger mindy said...

Shark Bites: A Statistical Guarantee?

How do I keep missing this show??

At 5:13 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

A Subaru Outback screams rugged outdoorsman hailing from Montana to me.


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