I know it’s not fair to do a lazy braindroppings post seeing as how most of my writing this week was unduly influenced by Nyquil. But that’s what I’m good for today, so that’s what the cafeteria is serving. Maybe next week meat’ll be back on the menu, boys.
- When will the fall season of TV get here already? I’m craving new episodes of The Office, Heroes, Lost and Jericho in a bad way. And yes, I know that they’ll still be trickling in the new stuff–I think Lost isn’t until February and Heroes isn’t until November or something. But anything is better than So You Think Princess Diana Can Survive Top Chef With Her Big Brother. Thank heavens for TNT, USA and BBC America. Those cable networks have kept me mostly entertained.
- Speaking of which, am I the only person who sees promos for that new Holly Hunter show and feels all meh inside? I’m beginning to think that I have an allergy to Holly Hunter. Pretty much anything she’s in sorta falls flat for me. I thought she was okay in Broadcast News, but when she didn’t go for Albert Brooks I lost all respect for her. How can you NOT just absolutely throw it all away for the chance at a lifetime with Albert Brooks?! You know, I think every time I see her now I think of her rejecting him and I get so frustrated that I don’t want to have anything to do with her. Even in “The Incredibles” I found myself thinking “that’s the chick who played the chick who dumped Albert Brooks’ smart and funny character. I don’t get why women have these smart and funny male friends and then dump them for someone “better”. Life is long. Find someone who can make you laugh–the road will go better. Just as long as the person who makes you laugh isn’t a clown.
- Speaking of people who make people laugh but are crying on the inside—what is up with Owen Wilson? Not Owen
Wilson per se but all the people who are like “how can a funny man be so depressed he tries to kill himself?” Do they not get that the whole funny sad guy is the biggest cliche? Do they not remember that Smokey Robinson song? How can you forget “Tears Of A Clown”? In fact, it’s now stuck in my head all day just because I typed that song name out. I’m going to be hearing those “duh duh duh” bells for the rest of the weekend. You know who would surprise me if they tried to commit suicide? Garrison Keillor. He seems far too proud of himself to ever want to end the wonderfulness that is him. But Owen Wilson has “I have weeks where I don’t shower and don’t eat and throw glasses of vodka at the mirrors in my house” written all over him. I just don’t get the big surprise about this guy being sad. I’m sorry for him, and I hope he gets better.
- Boy, Monk has turned into a crappy show.
- So I’m also really offended by this commercial for Meerkat Manor that they’ve been showing on Discovery Channel or Animal Planet or whichever station has that stupid Meerkat Manor show on. Okay, I love the Meerkats. They’re cute. But they’re always imperiled, and I hate imperiled-animal stories. Oh, and it’s all narrated by Sean Astin, who also bugs me. I mean here’s this guy who’s in the biggest movies of the decade and has the chance of a lifetime and all he can do is whine about the foot makeup and how he didn’t get an OOOOSSSCAR. Dang, he bugs me. Anyway, that’s why I don’t watch Meerkat Manor more often. But they had this commercial on and I caught the tail end of it and it was this Meerkat dude with a bunch of words behind him on a white screen, basically talking about how the meerkats are inbred. (Duh.) The background music was “Cotton-Eyed Joe”. So, pretty much everyone in the South are a bunch of inbred rodents (are Meerkats rodents? Must look that up…). Is that what the Animal Discovery Channel Planet thinks of me? Because that’s just super offensive. Now I need one of the history buffs or musicologists to come and explain to me that Cotton Eyed Joe is really not a southern song and is really about the something of the something so I’m not so offended. Then I can go back to avoiding the Meerkats solely because of that punk Sean Astin.
- It just occured to me that this is a really long and aimless blog post and should have stopped about four paragraphs ago, like before I started trashing Garrison Keillor. So I guess I’ll stop now. Anyway, leave me a comment if you don’t mind. It’ll make my day. I tried to come up with some trolly topic since I wanted comments but I didn’t want to talk about that man looking for love in the crapper or fred thompson or ron paul or why fat people are gross. Heh. Wouldn’t it be funny if Sean Astin and Owen Wilson became friends? Then Owen could turn all his self-loathing outward and occasionally smack Astin around. Perfect solution!