Weezie and I have a deal; she gets to post on Greyís because thatís her thing. I am sure we will be hearing from her a little later in regards to last nightís episode, but I am going to hold off on my comments until after she gets a chance to post. You know she is gainfully employed; Iím just doing housework. There is one thing I canít hold off on however. After last nightís episode I am going to push my love of Happy Bunny aside. From now on instead of quoting, ďHey you just made me throw up a littleĒ, I am going to have to go with ďI think I going to McPukeĒ. Thanks George, you made my week again.
For those of you who know me, you know how surprisingly often that statement comes up in conversation, so it was nice of the folks at Greyís to throw me a little age appropriate variety.
Speaking of age appropriate, you all know how much I love Zach Braff and Scrubs. When his movie Garden State came out, I recommended his blog to you. I donít know how many of you took my advice, but Weezie did. This morning she emailed me because A) sheís got a job and letís face it, she was up first B) Zach also has several jobs and doesnít get to update his site very often, so when he does we try to get the word out C) this latest installment might make you pee a little in your pants. If you donít adore this man, you should. He gives voice to the stupidest, sickest, most insanely inappropriate thoughts in your head and even better he makes you laugh. He is a genuinely nice guy who is completely over the top and still manages to make me feel that he shares in my insanity. Oh screw it, he is juvenile, over the top, and downright silly which makes him perfect in my book. So check him out if you want a laugh. As a bonus for those of you who read it, in my house our “newscasters” are otherwise known as either Natty Dumpos (for those with a love of literature) or Poopasaurus Rex (for those with a love of Ross). So now you are either laughing, disgusted, or trying to fiigure out what the fuck I’m talking about or maybe a little of all three. I told you to read it.
Now on to my Captain Negativity part of the postÖHonestly, is there anyone outside of Michelle Kwan and the employees of NBC who gives a crap about the Olympics? How much longer until they are over? I canít take it anymore even my soap operas were pre-empted. Repeats, no Veronica, no Earl, no Office, no Scrubs, just constant teasing with ads telling us we should be watching them. Yeah, I know, so hurry up already. I admit I have tuned in for a few things, but all kidding aside, it seems like a lot of Americaís athletes really donít care about being there. I am sure it is just the media over hyping things as usual. I have to laugh when they try to do interviews after some of the events. Half of the participants (assuming they speak English) donít want to be bothered and blow them off, the other half are so amazed by their own wonderfulness and achievement that they hardly notice the questions, they are just going on and on about how great they are. Where is the sense of decorum? They should all be forced to take lessons from Apollo Anton Ohno who is well spoken in times of great achievement and in times of disappointment or failure. Why canít people just say, ďjust this once, so and so was better than IĒ? Why does it always have to be because your lace broke or your hair was pulled too tight or the sun was shining or you had bad eggs for breakfast or you forgot your lucky charm? You hardly ever hear, ďI tried my best, but today just wasnít my day. So and so did a great job and I look forward to kicking her ass next timeĒ. Instead it usually sounds like, Ē I am the best athlete in the world. I amaze myself. Today the fates conspired against me and I had soggy pudding for dessert, so it was impossible for me to do my best and so at the last moment this inexperienced amateur took advantage of my misfortune and stole my rightful medal; therefore, I refuse to acknowledge defeat and will lessen my opponents achievements at every turn in an effort to make myself appear more talented than I actually am.” Hereís a thought, maybe fate is trying to something or in this case, Happy Bunny, ďyou suck and thatís sadĒ. For your next trick perhaps you could parlay your pathetic career into a job as a color commentator. Underachievers like you should ban together and point out the flaws in others as todayís athletes execute maneuvers you never even dreamed of accomplishing. I am so sick of hearing the stupid color commentary especially from Dick Button and Sandra Bezic. I am forced to mute their opinions or I might just have to board a plane, fly to Turin, and punch them right in the face. By the way in case you missed it, NBC clarified the Turin/Torino debate. Apparently, Dick Ebersol likes the way Torino rolls trippingly off the tongue, so we owe it all to him. And as my favorite, Bob Costas, so eloquently put it, ďhe signs my checks so Torino it is.Ē