Things are pretty cool, except that I'd really like for it to be Thursday night instead of tonight. Tomorrow, all I have to do is spend time tweaking the paper and waiting for the day to be over. I know that's just a bad way to live, but for tomorrow, I'm afraid that's what's going down. Burning a day. Waiting for the night to come and go, and I'll probably go to bed really early so I can turn in the paper and go catch a matinee of X2.
And I have to comment on the freakin' American Idol thing -- if nothing else, just because Janine's watching it in the other room, and they've trotted out Burt Bacharac and now they've got all the remaining monkeys skipping through the aisles and chirping like a GD 60s variety show, the kind you can gawk at in mixed horror and disbelief on PBS every now and then. And it seems like the Holy Grail of these shows is to produce the next Celine, the next Whitney, the next Mariah. Why in god's name to do need more of those neurotic, plastic narcissists? Is there really a clamoring mass demanding a new singer who can get up into the dog whistle range? Does it bother anyone that Kelly Clarkson has zero artistic freedom in probably anything she'll ever do? Or that she probably couldn't actually create anything remotely interesting anyway? Kelly Clarkson and Saudi Arabia: two things that really don't need to be rich.
And Reuben's in the bottom two? What hath God wrought?! That guy rocks!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment