Just de-lovely and delicious
I have a confession to make…
I sang Deee-Lite’s “Groove Is In The Heart” in the shower this morning. (Groove was most definitely not in my bathroom.)
Also… I watch American Idol. And Canadian Idol. And I’d probably watch East Timorian Idol.
I like competition. I like when my favourites win. I like raging when my favourites lose.
I am not all that passionate about most reality TV. Not like some people and their Scott Baio. Speaking of…. A month or so ago, my father asked me, “Have you seen that Scott Baio is 45 and single show?” I replied that I had seen a few episodes. He said, “That is going to be you someday!” And started laughing. I had no answer. Spite is not an acceptable reason to get married, is it?
Sometimes my Idol favourites are not 100% based on singing ability. For example, this year it is Future Wife Amy Davis — who, I think we can agree, is all manner of ha-cha-cha. For the record, I picked her before seeing this picture. Honestly!
I don’t like that I don’t get a vote.
Originally I had planned to live blog last night’s performance night. All 12 boys sang. When the show started, I had the laptop on my lap. Midway through the first song, I put the laptop down beside me. Two notes into the second performer, I put the laptop on the floor, and performed my first of many quick checks of the score of the Ottawa/Philly hockey game. By, the end of the show I was drawing on the notepad next to my bed. Mostly pictures of me with a mohawk. I… don’t know why.
When it was over, I conferred with another Idol watcher to see if maybe I was just being harsh. She assured me that “they are all horrible.”
I am also moderately enraged that nobody thought to sing “Whiter Shade of Pale.” Come on.
Maybe I’ll live blog the girls tonight. Maybe.
Or I’ll draw pictures of me in a goatee. And possibly rollerskating.
This whole thing has lead me to think about how live blogging would have been cool for other moments in history…
Typical Witch Hunt
“Prudence is up next. With shoes like that? Buckles and shit. Homegirl’s a witch. No question. Witch! Witch!
They should sell mead at these things.
Wait! Oh, not Sarah Good! She really knows how to fill out a petticoat. Apparently not a flame resistant petticoat, however…
Anyone else suddenly craving toast?”
“She MAY be a bit of a commie. Possibly. But, that thing she does with her tongue…
I feel like I should send her flowers or something. Red roses too on the nose?
What about choc–
Hmm. Someone’s knocking on my door. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
The first time I had sex
Sunday, June 14, sooooo long ago
My childhood bedroom
“WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO — Oh, crap. Someone’s at the door! No. Sorry. False alarm. Carry on. — OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
I made up the date. But, the WHOOOOOO is pretty much bang on.