Monday, June 2, 2008


My mom just accused me of going through the pasta sauce and picking out the artichokes so she couldn't have any.

I don't even have anything to add to that, actually. I thought I did, but it is one of those rare things that stands alone.

Saturday, May 31, 2008

I love ... boning?

Ah, first blog posts. As special as any first time for anything, I imagine it should be marked with something memorable. Prom, perhaps? That was last night, and therefore fresh in my memory. But - other than the deeply pornographic and alarming things that some of my esteemed peers were doing with each other - it wasn't that memorable. Because I can multitask like nobody's business, I was web-surfing whilst pondering this dilemma.

The VH1 blog is a source of endless entertainment, which is to be expected, but probably I'm entertained for the wrong reasons. For instance, the new show I Love Money isn't entertaining to me because of the reasons it should be (obviously I want to see Midget Mac and all of his sub-par companions and forbears competing for money because that's what they were doing anyway, and the idea that anyone was actually looking for love with New York or Flavor Flav or Bret Michaels - ew - is a total farce) but because VH1 has finally finally finally stopped kidding itself and made a show where the goal is really stated in the title.

Also, the interviews are really freakin' funny. Check them out.

Seriously. No one wants New York's tru luv and even less people want Flavor Flav's. What they really want is the big fat paycheck and the fifteen seconds of fame awarded them - except for the Bret Michaels girls, who apparently want an STD more than anything in the world. But as much as VH1 deserves props for putting the "real" back in reality TV, at least a little bit, it's kind of disgusting how accurate it is. Who are these people, and from whom are they spawned? And moreover, from whom do they learn their modes and morals? I feel like Flavor Flav and Bret Michaels could find someone to fornicate with without the help of VH1. I know that the, er, lovely Tila Tequila can find several people to fornicate with at once without the help of VH1's significantly less clever bedmate MTV (whose name really, really needs to be changed, as nothing they do has anything to do with music anymore). These shows aren't about love, they are wholeheartedly and energetically about sex.

So what the fuck does that say about people?

Bad things. Bad, bad things. And what's scary is that it is widespread, if the dress concepts that were worn at my prom are any indication (honestly, I'm wondering if some people made their dresses and were under a tight budget or something). Some girls' dresses went all the way to their vaginas, though! Progress is being made! Britney Spears' crotch-flashing did not have the longterm effects I feared!