Wow, yesterday’s post was really disjointed. You’d think after a weekend off I would have a lot of brilliant things to say, but instead I think the time off made me rusty. It’s like my sophomore year English teacher always said: Your writing skills are like muscles that have to be used often, or else you lose them.
And do you remember that show from the mid-80s, Double Trouble, with the redheaded twins? (Google tells me that they are in fact the sisters of Katy Sagal. Interesting.) And they had that Jamaican friend at the fashion design school or wherever they were? And she started everything with, “It’s like my mama always say…” Yeah, I still think of that sometimes, when the situation warrants it, like now. And yet this morning my boss thanked me for a file I sent him not 24 hours ago and I just stared at him, causing him to comment on my horrendous memory.
Last night offered some Mraztastic and Apololicious television. Apolo was heaps good on Dancing With the Stars, seriously raising the bar. But who are these judges? Have their brains been eaten, Sylar-style? After nitpicking for weeks, last night Laila Ali totally fumbled her first dance, had some crazy footwork, and looked like an elephant in heels (she has an awesome physique for boxing, and I love that she’s not some skinny little bony thing, but backless dresses do her no favors), and yet the judges gushed about her elegance and skill. A who in the what now? Perfect scores? Seriously? It was worse than last week when nobody commented on her dancing because they were so busy talking about what a legend her father is. Well no kidding, but he’s not the one trying to win the damn trophy. I hope Ian stays tonight and she goes.
And then Heroes. My awesome, sexy, well-crafted Heroes. Just putting George Takai on the screen made me happy, he’s so damn cool. Now if only I could get a little more Christopher Eccleston? Pretty please? I’ve been watching my Doctor Who DVDs, but something new would be even better. And if you could somehow work in the line “Fan-tas-tic!” and have him deliver it with a huge grin, that would be perfect. Then he can grab the cheerleader’s hand and tell her to run, and they can head off on some adventure through time and space together. Too much? Fine, just have him show up at the last minute and save the world. It’s what he does best.