Caught some of the new show called 'The Voice' tonight. It's a game show hosted by TRL Jenkins Daly where the judges listen to the singing contestants while their backs are turned. Not the contestant's backs. The judge's backs.
But that would make for even an better show, maybe. Let's just look at these contestants butts the whole time. No. Stop it. Show some (cl)ass.
So the audience gets to see the contestants, we the viewer get to see the contestants, and the judges don't. Until they turn around once the song is over or they want to just see the person, curious and what not. Add them to their team, their cyber battle team when they all don leotards and slap fight in a pool filled with our collective tears.
But I've stayed tuned in for one reason and one reason alone.
American Idol wasn't on.
Kidding. Real World Las Vegas wasn't on. Kidding. Jersey Shore wasn't on. Kidding. Housewives wasn't on. Kardashians wasn't on. Kidding. Kidding. Stop. Everything is on all the time. Round the clock. Always on, never stop, sell, promote, advertise, money, money, spend it, make it, lose it, gamble it, snort it, blow it.
Oh and I realized I'm not the best with names, never have been. Are you? Who prides themselves on remembering names? Salesmen. I'm not a salesman, but living in LA recently, I've kinda started to become one. And I'll sellout quick, cause I'm not sure how much of me I've got in the back. Suppose ya could always order more online.
But it's not that I don't care about remembering names. Of course I do. We all do. It's just that names have gotten out of control. Peculiar names.
I met a 'Sh'daisey' the other day. Ah Wha-huh? Granted, I was at the strippy.
Gah, why did this writing have to go there. I was just there the other night, we don't need to go there now.
Also, let's mention the Osama bin Laden killing. He got shot in the eye by a Navy Seal. Gotta admit, our Navy Seals know how to shoot guys in the face. It's not like he got hit in the shoulder, shin, waist. It's not like he felt any pain.
And I kinda wish he woulda. Make him hurt a little bit. Make him feel like those poor people in the World Trade Centers felt when they had to either stay in the burning building and die or jump out the window and die. That's a sickening choice.
So, our SEALS stormed his deerstand. And apparently his brother or son used his own wife as a human shield against our stud Seals that will shoot you right in the face with a machine gun. Imagine if that couple would have lived, though. Imagine that dinner conversation the next night.
Here's a little snippet from this imaginary conversation: (Husband sits across from wife, feebly poking his mashed potatoes around in ashamed circles. Wife staring a hole through her husband's head as he fidgetedly fidgets under her gaze. Husband finally looks up.)
Husband-So how was your day, honey?
Wife-You used me as a human shield against men with lasers on their machine guns, how do you think it was?
Husband-Well, baby, it's not like they shot us...sooo, it kinda worked.
Wife-You're dead to me.
I mean, of all the ways to go down. Imagine that on your tombstone!
'Here lies Billy the Terrorist. Used his wife as a shield against bullets. Guess that means he was a bit of a bitch. I'd etch the dates of his life, but who cares when he was born. Just know that he died with no dignity. I've already etched too much shit on his tombst---'
Then the tombstone carver went to go get a sandwhich and he never bothered to finish the carving of said tombstone.
Man, I really went into a little bit of a rant there. Guess the news of that man's actions struck a chord with me. Your chord ever been struck? Excuse me.
Oh, my chord got struck again the other day and this time it was by a grocery store. It really worked me up. Ya know why? The aisles were too thin. What grocery stores have thin aisles? I've never had to literally let someone come OUT of the aisle before I could enter it. Think about it. Have you ever had to look down the entire aisle and see that the coast is clear before you progress?
Huh? Just widen the lanes. Remove the freaking chip aisle, cause nobody eats those in LA, and then add that space to each lane. Scootch 'em. Do a scootcheroo.
Got nothing else right now.