Captain Obvious

Thriller.  Eurythmics.  Martha Quinn. 

John Belushi.  Gilda Radner.  Chevy Chase all hopped up on painkillers.

I think it is time that the United States has a big party sending the memory of the good old days of MTV and SNL into the universe.  Let's get together, people.  Can we do it today? Because if I have to listen to one more person kvetch about how good they used to be and how shitty they are now, selfishly imagining that they are the first person to come up with this notion, I will throw myself off a balcony into a Christmas tree, or kill a radio star. 

I'm not saying I don't agree.  I miss 24 hours of nonstop videos.  Unfortunately, I wasn't a sentient TV watcher when Saturday nights were edgy and funny.  However, as a child, I often thought how cool it would be to be able to request videos as easily as requesting a song on the radio.  We can do that now.  If you haven't realized that music videos are 300 times easier to come by these days, you need to get your head out of your ass.  And if you are bitching about how unfunny SNL is, that means you are watching it, sitting home on Saturday night, subjecting yourself to pain and misery rather than supporting live theater, or your local pub. 

If you need to get it out of your system, please do it now.  Or shout it into your pillow in the privacy of your home.  But don't tell me.  I seriously don't think I can handle hearing it again.

iamsoashamedsounds

Confession: I am a fan of High Fidelity and Dharma and Greg. I suppose the former is not as embarassing as the latter.  Needless to say, creating Top Five Lists is one of my favorite activities.  But we'll get to that later. 

In preparation for the wedding, Marky and I have decided to drink copious amounts of wine and indulge in guilty pleasures.  A couple of nights ago, we rented Season 1 of Dharma and Greg.  This is not one of TV's greatest hits, admittedly, but we know just about every episode from late night network reruns.  Irony: We are only familiar with the show because we were too broke for cable a couple years ago, yet we are paying to watch it now.  When Dharma and Greg got taken off the late night roster, we worried that nothing could fill the void that Dharma, Greg, Abby, Larry, Kitty and Edward left behind.  Enter Malcolm in the Middle... but that's another blog. 

At the close of the third episode we indulged in last night, the Chuck Lorre vanity card popped up.  For anyone (including two-days-ago me) who doesn't know what a vanity card is, it's that screen that comes up at the end of a show like Oprah's HARPO thing, or Rosie O'Donnell's Kid Ro cartoon.  The Chuck Lorre vanity card is a page long diatribe that we were never able to read because it is only on the screen for a second.  After watching the show for something like a year, we never thought to tape the bastard and pause to read it.  We paused it on the DVD last night!  Chuck Lorre isn't necessarily a great comedian or philosopher, but he talks about his dog, and beer, and people who have screwed him in the business.  It's a good laugh. 

Back to Top Five Lists and guilty pleasures... I bought the new Justin Timberlake album.  If I were to list the Top Five Album Opening Songs, "FUTURESEX/LOVESOUND" would certainly place. 

Voodoo Pee-conomics Part Deux

I am not crazy. 

Many Chicagoans say thay can make it through the summer without air conditioning.  Call me spoiled, but we keep those little window units blowing constantly.  I also overuse my car A/C.  Hear me, all you window openers out there?  I'm not ashamed to admit it.  I am not an animal--I am a human being!!!  On my day off, midmorning, I sat at my computer, mindlessly surfing the web.  The A/C was off, for the first time in quite a long and hot Chicago summer.  Marky was at work, so the TV was off, as well.  I could hear the cicadas buzzing, I could hear the tap-tap-tap of my not-so-nimble fingers typing away.  I heard something else.  A rogue faucet?  Maybe a glass had shifted in our dish drainer?  Tinkle?  The sound was coming from the bathroom.  I gingerly walked to the door, grabbing my digital camera on the way.  Being sure to shut off the flash so as not to provoke a negative response...

The photo is a little Sasquatch-esque.  Believe it if you will.  The resolution is a little fuzzy.

Little Roger indeed taught himself.