Inner Monologue from This Morning’s Subway Commute
How many more times can I get excited for someone else’s dreams to come true? Here I am, on this disgusting subway car, sitting next to a guy who smells like he just got back from a week-long deep-sea fishing trip, on my way to a marginally thankless job. Fox and NBC show these commercials all night about how there can only be one winner, so tune in now!!! Someone’s dreams are going to come true!!! Memo to the network execs: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice, shame on both of us.
Is that stripes and plaid? Are you seriously wearing strips and plaid? How many times does this have to be openly made fun of by every single person on Earth before people stop wearing it?
I think for the sheer comedic value of it all, I might go see this From Kelly to Justin movie. On the scale of 1 to 10, 1 being “Academy Award-winning independent film” and 10 being Showgirls, I’m putting this at about a 12. To be honest, what I’m really waiting for is the From Ruben to Clay film.
I don’t think I’ve laughed as hard as I did when I stumbled across one of the greatest TV ideas ever. “Blonde Week” on “Hollywood Squares,” with Pam Anderson as the center square. On a show where intelligence isn’t really at a premium to begin with, there’s nothing quite like seeing some of the world’s stupidest people answer questions. Prime example: Question to the Hilton sisters: “What is the most commonly used household appliance?” Nicki Hilton: “It’s probably in the kitchen.” Paris Hilton: “What’s the kitchen?” You can’t make this up. I think the best moment might have been when Paris’s cell phone rang in the middle of a question and she answered it.
O.K., mind-boggling discovery of the week: While looking through Tower Records, I came across the following CD: 20th Century Masters: The Scorpions. I’m going to repeat that because I think it bears repeating. 20th Century Masters: The Scorpions. The Scorpions. 20th Century Masters. I looked at the back of the CD and there was more than one song! Maybe it’s me.
Whatever happened to Wendy the Snapple Lady? I’m sitting here drinking my Snapple and I realized that I haven’t thought about her in ten years. I hope she’s O.K.
Jewel, you were so much cooler before you sold out. Sure, your music wasn’t all that good but you actually made me believe that you stood for something, namely that being true to yourself was more important than being famous. I didn’t stake my existence on it but I believed it. Now you’re on the cover of one of those Maxim magazines with your boobs practically pushed out the top of your shirt and you’re selling your sexuality. Sure, you’re allowed to change but don’t expect me to believe a word you say anymore.
Liz Phair, see above re: Jewel.