Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Hot Meme Action

Last week, my former roommate and all-time rockstar The Hot Librarian tagged me with a meme and, because I am lazy, I'm getting to it now. So here are the rules (some of which I will ignore) and my responses:

--Link to your tagger and post rules. I totally did that.
--Share 7 facts about yourself, some random and some weird. See below.
--Tag 7 people at the end of post and list their names.
--Let them know they were tagged by a comment on their blog.

1) I think The Steve Wilkos Show is the worst talk show in the history of television, and this counts the past two seasons of Maury Povich, which has become Paternity Test Theatre. Some of you may recognize Steve Wilkos as the bald former security guard from Jerry Springer and by "some of you", I mean those of you without jobs and/or self-esteem. Mr. Wilkos is not a good speaker, he is not a compelling host, and his guests can fool him by remaining completely still since his vision is based on motion.

For those of you who haven't seen the show, here's a two-minute primer, involving teen prostitutes and yelling. Be sure to add Steve as your MySpace friend!

Last night, when having what was supposed to be a life-changing conversation with yes, a pregnant, drug-addled teen prostitute he implored her, in that halting, clunky speech pattern of his, "One day you'll wish you could do different." She blinked in response. "You just got to realize that the only worse thing you could be is dead." The crowd roared, the guest's mother came out and answered my lingering questions about who buys clothing at Deb, and I was convinced that no, the worse thing she could be is at home trying to watch this show.

2) I am deeply disturbed by Rod, a man I see at the Y who, more than once, has approached complete strangers to ask them, "Hey, man, you ever, like, lose chunks of time and shit? I mean, you get somewhere and you ain't sure how you got there?". Yesterday, I overheard him talking with a woman who looked like she would rather be anywhere, including Steve Wilkos' studio audience, than trapped at the cable machine listening to the details of his hallucinations, which involved a chipmunk and a hubcap.

After recounting his latest episode, he racked his weights and declared it was time to go to work. A few seconds of silence followed before I asked the woman if she knew what kind of work he did. "Rod?" she said, "He's a school bus driver." Awesome. I look forward to the day when a group of children tell their confused parents that instead of going to school, they spent the day in Rod's yard digging for unicorn bones.

3) After last week's disastrous trip to Cleveland, I can no longer listen to "Conquest" by the White Stripes without thinking of Indian's closer Rafael Betancourt, who used it as his entrance music. He also had a ridiculous, Jumbotron-generated graphic involving oversized animated gavels that rhythmically banged out the words "Betan-Court is Now in Session".
That's all. I just liked that song and now it's been tainted.

4) I went to Barnes & Noble on Saturday, and the Mrs. Garrett lookalike at the checkout was incredibly warm and friendly, an attitude rarely displayed by anyone who isn't working for a tip. She complimented my eyes and my haircut and my scarf (yes, sometimes I wear a scarf...that's not the point), as she carefully replaced the roll of paper in the cash register. She had just started telling an unrelated story about peanut brittle, when she noticed the book I'd patiently been waiting to purchase. Somewhere between reading the words "Heroin" and "Diaries", she clammed up and shot me a hard look of disappointment, like I'd just taken a dump on the devotional calendars stacked on the counter.

"What were you saying about peanut brittle?", I offered with what I hoped was my most winning and not-at-all interested in drugs type of smile. "Nevermind," she said, refusing to look at me as I handed her a copy of Vanity Fair, plucked from the rack at the register in a last-minute attempt to show that I like reading about rich people too. I also threw in the latest issue of CatFancy.

She crammed everything into a plastic bag and pushed it across the counter, staring past me at the next person in line. "Oh, I love that hairstyle on you!", she gushed to a woman clutching several copies of Eat, Pray, Love who was definitely not a scarf-wearing potential drug user and who, quite possibly, wanted to hear a wholesome anecdote about peanut brittle.

Note: I do not use heroin or any other illegal or non-prescription drugs, save for the occasional Excedrin. Nor do I actually have cats.

5) I don't understand why "The George Lopez Show" is on Nick-at-Nite.

6) I have recently eaten a Pizza Hut P'Zone. I will do it again.

7) I really want to listen to "Conquest" right now.

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