I can never read the scathing - yet oh so pithy and often brilliantly spot-on - commentary offered up on Go Fug Yourself while I'm at work. Aside from the obvious (hello - I'm at work...oh I know that's never stopped me before, now shut it!)...the audible l o l-ing that would be coming from my werk-kloset would result in my career growth measuring in negative integers. And the imaginary dialogue that was most recently posted on the site between Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny at the premier of the new (And totally unecessary! Why, Chris Carter? WHY?!) X-Files movie had me in a fit of giggles and '90s nostalgia. Also, it made me wonder...what the hell happened to Fox Mulder?!?
Lately I've found myself watching The Soup on E! an awful lot. I used to love Talk Soup when Greg Kinnear was on, back before it got kind of...not so funny under Skunk-Haired Man Whose Name Escapes Me and Aisha Tyler before she made the totally logical leap to playing the best friend on that show about the woman who dated John Mayer talking to ghosts. Anyone who doesn't remember the original incarnation of Talk Soup needs to get off my lawn with their hippity hop and their stupid emo haircuts. I normally don't watch obnoxious channels that bows down at the altar of celebrity, but The Soup specializes in ripping to shreds the false importance of those same shows and individuals that make up the livelihood of its parent channel, using the twin blades of sarcasm and satire. Think Best Week Ever meets the late shows minus boundaries and the capacity for feeling shame or remorse. And through the show's website and blog I discoverd that host Joel McHale and I have something in common that puts us in a very elite segment of the population - we both list meeting Mr. T as part of our life's accomplishments. Every time I revise my resume I consider putting "Have met Mr. T", but I never do because it seems like it would be kind of braggy and no one wants to hire a shameless braggart, no matter how awesome they truly are.
My cat is mystified by the answering machine. Every time a message is being left she runs over to the table and just stands there, entranced, staring at the phone. Is she wondering how they get the people in the little machine? Is she puzzling over why we don't pay our bills on time? Maybe she's secretly plotting a way to figure out the logistics of using the handset and ordering herself a pizza with extra anchovies?
Lately I've found myself watching The Soup on E! an awful lot. I used to love Talk Soup when Greg Kinnear was on, back before it got kind of...not so funny under Skunk-Haired Man Whose Name Escapes Me and Aisha Tyler before she made the totally logical leap to playing the best friend on that show about the woman who dated John Mayer talking to ghosts. Anyone who doesn't remember the original incarnation of Talk Soup needs to get off my lawn with their hippity hop and their stupid emo haircuts. I normally don't watch obnoxious channels that bows down at the altar of celebrity, but The Soup specializes in ripping to shreds the false importance of those same shows and individuals that make up the livelihood of its parent channel, using the twin blades of sarcasm and satire. Think Best Week Ever meets the late shows minus boundaries and the capacity for feeling shame or remorse. And through the show's website and blog I discoverd that host Joel McHale and I have something in common that puts us in a very elite segment of the population - we both list meeting Mr. T as part of our life's accomplishments. Every time I revise my resume I consider putting "Have met Mr. T", but I never do because it seems like it would be kind of braggy and no one wants to hire a shameless braggart, no matter how awesome they truly are.
My cat is mystified by the answering machine. Every time a message is being left she runs over to the table and just stands there, entranced, staring at the phone. Is she wondering how they get the people in the little machine? Is she puzzling over why we don't pay our bills on time? Maybe she's secretly plotting a way to figure out the logistics of using the handset and ordering herself a pizza with extra anchovies?
And a belated happy birthday to Snooty, the oldest known captive manatee, who recently celebrated his 60th year of being mistaken for a mermaid!
He may not be pretty but he sure is sweet, and has a very interesting story to boot. If you're ever in the vicinity of Manatee County Florida you should visit his home, the Parker Manatee Aquarium.
3 comments:
why don't we got see snooty sometime soon then?
I know a small someone who would really love to do just that (no - the "small" someone is not me, although I would also enjoy it).
heehee.
Post a Comment