My compulsive need to see every episode of Charmed has been well documented. Probably one of my less charming traits. (Charming, get it? Sorry, that was awful.)
But it’s time to rat out Xtian.
Xtian has developed a love of Bridezillas. Yes, that terrible, train wreck of a show about women who lose their damn minds planning a wedding. And I wholly encourage Xtian’s newfound obsession, you want to know why?
With each episode I look steadily less crazy. Close friends will remember the Parmesan cheese fiasco the day before my own wedding. But that is not even comparable to the level of horridness displayed on this show. Xtian is amazed at the shrieking, bitching, freaking out wenches portrayed on this program (but I seriously see how some of them can get that way. Your dressmaker ripped the bodice of your $4000 dress and didn’t mention it or fix it? So you’re now being stitched into the dress 45 minutes before the ceremony? Proceed with the complete mental breakdown.).
I’ve decided all television shows viewed by Xtian should serve to make me look better by comparison. For every lunatic spewing animosity on her betrothed, I look like more like Mother Theresa.
In this same vein, Xtian watched a documentary on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Again, I think my compulsive neuroses and obsessive traits have been discussed at length on this site. But watching this documentary made Xtian remark, “After seeing these people, it makes your OCD look CUTE.” And that, ladies and gentleman, is precisely what I’ve been trying to convince him. Mission accomplished.
~~~~
In the restroom at work, there are three stalls. Two of them have doors that automatically sit slightly open, unless you lock them. The third stall has a door that automatically falls closed. The one that falls closed is a touch roomier than the other two so when possible, I use that stall. (Umm, what’s with making bathroom stall so cramped you have to step around the toilet to close the door behind you? This is just awkward and gross.)
Knowing that the one stall is always closed, whether someone is in there or not, I usually listen when I walk into the bathroom to hear if someone else is in there. If I don’t hear anything, I’ll gently nudge the door to see if it’s locked. If so, I move on to another stall.
Apparently, this is not a thought process anyone else has experienced. Every time I’ve been in the preferred stall, someone will burst into the bathroom, and SLAM their full body force against my stall’s door. It’s disconcerting. (and being the pregnant lady who pees 4 times an hour these days, I’m in and out of the bathroom a LOT.)
But that’s nothing compared to the other day. I was in the preferred stall when Mean Russian Lady and someone else walk into the bathroom. They are having a loud conversation as they walk in, and MRL SLAMS into my stall’s door. While continuing the conversation, she moves on to another stall, does her thing and steps out of the stall. Then she proceeds to SLAM into my stall’s door again, and again while loudly saying, “This door is locked but no one’s in here!” My response was to clear my throat, cough, make some other sound to alert the person that, indeed, someone IS in there. But she didn’t hear anything because she’s loudly banging on the door and shouting about NO ONE BEING IN THERE!
Finally, I had to shout, “MEAN RUSSIAN LADY! SOMEONE IS IN HERE!” It was beyond uncomfortable.
Apparently, I have to somehow announce my presence in the bathroom in order to not have someone beating the door down. F’ing A.
But then again, why do expect anything better from the people I work with? Picture your rank and file trailer park in back woods Arkansas. Now, imagine the people who were chased OUT of that trailer park for being too stupid and low class. Now think if all those people were brothers and sisters who procreated together. THIS is the level of people we’re talking about.
Showing posts with label truly terrible tv. Show all posts
Showing posts with label truly terrible tv. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
My Girl got a girlfriend
Yes, the graduation. Look, I’ve got to be honest here. I hate graduation ceremonies. I hated my older sister’s graduation ceremony, I hated my high school and college graduation ceremonies, and now I hated my little sister’s graduation ceremony. I just hate the self-serving administration speeches; the over-the-top/badly amplified musical numbers; the trite, cliché and completely generic student speeches; this whole belief that THIS is the greatest moment of these kids’ lives. Dear lord, I hope that graduating high school isn’t the only good thing these kids ever do. Since, these days, you basically show up 2/3 of the time and get to graduate.
And for schools with more than 300 kids graduating, it’s just an assembly line. You barely have time to register the kids’ names before three more kids have walked across the stage. Not a single person on that stage knows the names of more than a handful of students. There’s absolutely no character or personality to it at all.
This class had the added built-in emotional manipulation of having had a student die earlier that year. He was a great kid, a friend of my sister’s and everyone else. It was sad and tragic and needed to be addressed. And I’m glad they presented the parents with an honorary diploma and let them speak for a bit. But I really took offense to the principal (who is an unrivaled douche bag) giving a “tearful” talk about this kid, whose name he’d never have known without his death. Discussing this kid took up more than ½ the ceremony. Which, I felt, kind of screwed over the other kids who were deserving of some recognition.
(I will put a caveat in here though; my brother went to an alternative high school for all the “fucked up kids/criminals.” THAT was the best ceremony ever. Only about 30 kids graduated, and every kid had been given up on by everyone else in the world, so when these teachers, who teach the fucked up kids for a living, are moved to tears by the kids’ accomplishments, how does that not rock your socks off? I still get weepy thinking about those kids and those amazing teachers and principals, who knew every single kid personally.)
So, yeah, as a rule graduation ceremonies are pretty weak. But, it was great to be there for my sister, see the family, and have a few stress free days to enjoy. My family got to experience some full-on Step Grandma Bull Shit in action, so that was kind of funny for me. She, evidently, has panic attacks in the car when anyone EXCEPT for HER drives. Now, this issue could be easily remedied by just having her drive as often as possible. But she insists that other people drive. Her doctor has tried to put her on Valium for this issue, but she “doesn’t want to take a *gasp* drug.” (I’ve tried explaining that sometimes, the medication isn’t for you, so much as the people around you. No dice.) I guess my family didn’t know about that, so were completely puzzled by the moaning, crying, whimpering and eventual shrieking. The weird thing though, is that when her freak outs were at their worst, we were traveling at a moderate speed, and the closest car was about a quarter mile away. Just classic. Fuck, dude, if I had to live with this woman, I’d have poisoned her food YEARS ago.
Have I mentioned that I like cupcakes? Because I really like cupcakes.
Our satellite dish was installed yesterday, and I think I may have a problem. I don’t ever want to leave the house again. The dish, she is glorious. I’m embarrassed at how excited I am at this. I mean, especially since we only got it so we could watch the new season of Big Love without giving Comcast one more chance to screw me out of watching one of the few shows I give a shit about. (Funny how every time I call to complain about the shitty reception and the fact that half the channels I pay for are dead, shortly thereafter, my cable would go out completely. Coincidence? I think not.) So, yes. That’s it, I’ve bought into the consumerism and materialism of it all. *sigh*
But, screw it. I’m going to enjoy my several hundred channels of fabulousness.
And for schools with more than 300 kids graduating, it’s just an assembly line. You barely have time to register the kids’ names before three more kids have walked across the stage. Not a single person on that stage knows the names of more than a handful of students. There’s absolutely no character or personality to it at all.
This class had the added built-in emotional manipulation of having had a student die earlier that year. He was a great kid, a friend of my sister’s and everyone else. It was sad and tragic and needed to be addressed. And I’m glad they presented the parents with an honorary diploma and let them speak for a bit. But I really took offense to the principal (who is an unrivaled douche bag) giving a “tearful” talk about this kid, whose name he’d never have known without his death. Discussing this kid took up more than ½ the ceremony. Which, I felt, kind of screwed over the other kids who were deserving of some recognition.
(I will put a caveat in here though; my brother went to an alternative high school for all the “fucked up kids/criminals.” THAT was the best ceremony ever. Only about 30 kids graduated, and every kid had been given up on by everyone else in the world, so when these teachers, who teach the fucked up kids for a living, are moved to tears by the kids’ accomplishments, how does that not rock your socks off? I still get weepy thinking about those kids and those amazing teachers and principals, who knew every single kid personally.)
So, yeah, as a rule graduation ceremonies are pretty weak. But, it was great to be there for my sister, see the family, and have a few stress free days to enjoy. My family got to experience some full-on Step Grandma Bull Shit in action, so that was kind of funny for me. She, evidently, has panic attacks in the car when anyone EXCEPT for HER drives. Now, this issue could be easily remedied by just having her drive as often as possible. But she insists that other people drive. Her doctor has tried to put her on Valium for this issue, but she “doesn’t want to take a *gasp* drug.” (I’ve tried explaining that sometimes, the medication isn’t for you, so much as the people around you. No dice.) I guess my family didn’t know about that, so were completely puzzled by the moaning, crying, whimpering and eventual shrieking. The weird thing though, is that when her freak outs were at their worst, we were traveling at a moderate speed, and the closest car was about a quarter mile away. Just classic. Fuck, dude, if I had to live with this woman, I’d have poisoned her food YEARS ago.
Have I mentioned that I like cupcakes? Because I really like cupcakes.
Our satellite dish was installed yesterday, and I think I may have a problem. I don’t ever want to leave the house again. The dish, she is glorious. I’m embarrassed at how excited I am at this. I mean, especially since we only got it so we could watch the new season of Big Love without giving Comcast one more chance to screw me out of watching one of the few shows I give a shit about. (Funny how every time I call to complain about the shitty reception and the fact that half the channels I pay for are dead, shortly thereafter, my cable would go out completely. Coincidence? I think not.) So, yes. That’s it, I’ve bought into the consumerism and materialism of it all. *sigh*
But, screw it. I’m going to enjoy my several hundred channels of fabulousness.
Friday, May 4, 2007
Things that are awesome today:
I have motion sensor lights in my office at work. I've recently found that turning off all the lights in my office greatly reduce my headaches. This has the added bonus of really PISSING OFF the HR Snitch. I think that's what we call "Killing two bitches with one stone."
I ate a banana earlier. As I was eating it, I wondered if it was a touch past it's prime. Now, I'm burping what can only be described as "banana wine." This is not as awesome as it sounds.
I got reamed for leaving 30 minutes early last Friday. But apparently, HR Snitch can just NOT SHOW UP today, and that's not a problem. Score one for lushes.
After a week like this one, nothing sounds better than snuggling up to a tall Captain and Coke. Unfortunately, I'm growing an alien, therefore I will have to settle for a nice Cranberry Juice. It is not the same.
Xtian went looking for a "Stop snitching'" t shirt for me yesterday. Unfortunately, these t-shirts were made popular by drug dealers who were tired of people talking to the cops. As a result of these two things, several employees of t shirt shops across the bay area now believe Xtian is a drug dealer.
This concludes today's episode of "things that are awesome."
Enjoy the weekend, watch some charmed for me. I'll be doing some heavy lifting in lieu of glutting myself upon terrible tv.
I ate a banana earlier. As I was eating it, I wondered if it was a touch past it's prime. Now, I'm burping what can only be described as "banana wine." This is not as awesome as it sounds.
I got reamed for leaving 30 minutes early last Friday. But apparently, HR Snitch can just NOT SHOW UP today, and that's not a problem. Score one for lushes.
After a week like this one, nothing sounds better than snuggling up to a tall Captain and Coke. Unfortunately, I'm growing an alien, therefore I will have to settle for a nice Cranberry Juice. It is not the same.
Xtian went looking for a "Stop snitching'" t shirt for me yesterday. Unfortunately, these t-shirts were made popular by drug dealers who were tired of people talking to the cops. As a result of these two things, several employees of t shirt shops across the bay area now believe Xtian is a drug dealer.
This concludes today's episode of "things that are awesome."
Enjoy the weekend, watch some charmed for me. I'll be doing some heavy lifting in lieu of glutting myself upon terrible tv.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Loving the Trash.
Ok, no more softball ranting. I promise. Except to complain that every week after playing/practicing my right knee swells and refuses to work for minimum 5 days, and after last night, my left ankle/foot area is one swollen ass mass of bruising.
Alright, NOW no more softball ranting.
My Charmed addiction is getting a little ridiculous. I’ve now Netflixed the entire series, and was really annoyed last night when I got home that there was an actual, currently-on-the-air show to watch, because that precluded me from indulging in my Charmed lust.
Yes, I know the plots are ridiculous at best, and yes the dialogue is ANYTHING BUT sparkling, and the climactic scenes are always pretty anti-climactic. But damn, those girls are pretty, and it’s just awful enough that I Can’t Stop Watching It. I’ve never gotten into soap operas, and there are very few shows that I make a point of watching regularly (Gilmore Girls is one, Scrubs would be the other). So why this sudden unholy need to watch a series that’s been off the air for a couple years now? Who the hell knows.
I will say, having some prior knowledge of the plotlines is VASTLY boosting my enjoyment. For example, I know Shannon Dougherty is killed off in season two or three. So, every time she says something bitchy, or just annoys me I can comfort myself, knowing that in a little while, THAT BITCH GONNA GIT IT! And then I laugh gleefully. I guess, my dislike for Shannon and her obnoxiously heinous character really keeps me enthralled. Yes, it’s stupid. (And I can’t even think about Shannon Dougherty without thinking of a Family Guy Quote involving Luke Perry. Peter: “Hey Luke, did you know that if you play the Dark Side of the Moon, and Wizard of Oz at the same time, they TOTALLY match up?” Luke Perry: “Shannon Dougherty told me that once. I just thought she was being a bitch.” Kills me every time. And yes, I know that is only funny to me.)
What is it that drives us all to LOVE terrible TV shows? I know everyone has at least one guilty pleasure, and don’t even try that “I don’t watch TV.” Yes, you do. YES YOU DO! Denial isn’t helping anyone. Let’s all just come clean, admit that we love terrible TV and be happier people for it.
Ok, time for me to keep eating Poptarts and rewriting copy. Sounds like fun, no?
Alright, NOW no more softball ranting.
My Charmed addiction is getting a little ridiculous. I’ve now Netflixed the entire series, and was really annoyed last night when I got home that there was an actual, currently-on-the-air show to watch, because that precluded me from indulging in my Charmed lust.
Yes, I know the plots are ridiculous at best, and yes the dialogue is ANYTHING BUT sparkling, and the climactic scenes are always pretty anti-climactic. But damn, those girls are pretty, and it’s just awful enough that I Can’t Stop Watching It. I’ve never gotten into soap operas, and there are very few shows that I make a point of watching regularly (Gilmore Girls is one, Scrubs would be the other). So why this sudden unholy need to watch a series that’s been off the air for a couple years now? Who the hell knows.
I will say, having some prior knowledge of the plotlines is VASTLY boosting my enjoyment. For example, I know Shannon Dougherty is killed off in season two or three. So, every time she says something bitchy, or just annoys me I can comfort myself, knowing that in a little while, THAT BITCH GONNA GIT IT! And then I laugh gleefully. I guess, my dislike for Shannon and her obnoxiously heinous character really keeps me enthralled. Yes, it’s stupid. (And I can’t even think about Shannon Dougherty without thinking of a Family Guy Quote involving Luke Perry. Peter: “Hey Luke, did you know that if you play the Dark Side of the Moon, and Wizard of Oz at the same time, they TOTALLY match up?” Luke Perry: “Shannon Dougherty told me that once. I just thought she was being a bitch.” Kills me every time. And yes, I know that is only funny to me.)
What is it that drives us all to LOVE terrible TV shows? I know everyone has at least one guilty pleasure, and don’t even try that “I don’t watch TV.” Yes, you do. YES YOU DO! Denial isn’t helping anyone. Let’s all just come clean, admit that we love terrible TV and be happier people for it.
Ok, time for me to keep eating Poptarts and rewriting copy. Sounds like fun, no?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)