By Sunday morning I had been up for 24 hours. The attempt to sleep would prove to be futile. Instead of trying to fight the sun with clamped eyelids and pillows piled over my head, I popped out of bed and rode my bike to the bar. By the end of the Steelers game I'm three bourbons to the wind with a breakfast burrito anchor. What a perfect time to call friends and arrange a bike ride to Pacific Beach for lobster tacos and an afternoon highball. Somehow the day gets filled. Sleep is a pleasant memory of my youth.
On the way to Rob and Eddie's for Desperate Housewives night, my forehead's against the cold window of Brianna's truck and drool puddles up on my shoulder. When the door clicks open the seatbelt restrains me against falling out onto the blacktop and I'm unbuckled and led up the steps.
Desperate Housewives night is serious business. The group dresses for the event and a drink called a Tall Skinny Bitch is served. There are crackers, oyster dip, and me on the floor, curled up around my Vanilla Stoli and Diet Coke. High heels and loafers click on the hardwood around my head and the danger of getting stepped on fires off my survival mechanisms and keeps me awake long enough to make it through the first half.
By the second half I'm in a two-dimensional paper forest. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and apple pie. I'm carrying a circular Tupperware filled with the wishes of 14 Hungarian immigrants. Behind the pump house I dig in the black earth so I can bury their wishes. There's a ransom for the plastic container but I don't want the money. I roll oblong rocks across my shins and tiny leaves cling to my eyelashes.
"Freeze, right there, mister." It's Lois Lane and that blond one with the pink cast. Lois Lane is pointing a yellow water pistol at me. "Hand over the wishes and I won't have to use this thing." Frightened by her threat, I proffer the lime-green box up, and it's snatched away by the fading beauty on crutches.
After checking to make sure the wishes are still inside, Lois says to me, "Oh, and by the way, you're snoring."
"What?"
"You're snoring. You're snoring." My eyes blink against the harsh glare and focus on the face in front of me. It's Rob. "You're snoring and you're ruining Desperate Housewives night."
WHAT I WILL AND WON'T WATCH THIS WEEK
Thursday October 27
Inside Dish With Rachael Ray
FOOD 10:30am
Renee recently informed me that her favorite Thanksgiving fare is bourbon-marinated turkey. Since she told me this I've eaten only foods I can soak in bourbon. Meats are great this way. Cheeses take on a sweet smoky flavor. Fruits are a little harsh, though, and cookies are downright inedible. Before starting on this new diet I didn't think cereal could get any better, but there you have it.
Survivor: Guatemala -- The Maya Empire
CBS 08 8:00pm
I think I burnt myself out on Survivor . I haven't watched one episode since last season. I don't know if the honeymoon is over or we're just in a slump. At one point we were really in love, the big one. But, so far this year, the thrill is gone.
Friday October 28 Cheers
TVLAND 59 12:00am
My very liberal roommates, Kip and Tony, have invented a drink called the Karl Rove. It's made with J...germeister and --I wish I were making this up -- something called "White Fungus Juice" that we picked up from Ranch 99 Asian Market. I don't think it'll catch on in the shiny shirt dance clubs of the Gaslamp Quarter but its distinct flavor and lingering aftertaste are perfect for an indictment party. The drink is supposed to be unpleasant but necessary. Just the thought of it makes me clamp my lips down so no J...germeister or white fungus juice can get in.
Saturday October 29
Da Vinci's Inquest
WB 5 5:00pm
I've noticed a frightening new trend in popular culture of the media to swing from Leonardo Da Vinci's jockstrap. There are books, television programs, and instructional DVDs on how to be more like Leonardo. Are you trying to be more like Leonardo? The first step is to stop running around pinching your nipples in delight over an artist who's been dead for 500 years.
Design on a Dime
HGTV 71 7:30pm
While I have loved living with my friends for the past year, it's time I got a place of my own. A little cottage in North Park where I can have barbecues, tea parties, or some meditative alone time. My roommates also hate it when I sit down naked, kick my feet out in front of me, and pull myself across the carpet hand-over-hand. So. You know. Getting my own place is win-win.
Sunday October 30
The Modern Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1998)
UPN 13 4:00pm
UPN modernizes Mark Twain's dusty old tale. Some people might call such an activity an intrusion, but I say, "Kudos, UPN." It's time to bring the so-called "classics" into the new millennium. Oh, wait. You can't hear sarcasm in print. Okay, then. This is necrophilia and really an example of everything that's wrong with society today. How's that?
Monday October 31
Frankenstein (2004)
USA 2 8:00am
I don't want to go to work! BLAH! I think I'm coming down with a touch of the bird-flu pandemic. Maybe it's polio or spinal meningitis. Whatever. I'm not coming in.
Tuesday November 1
The Perfect Husband: The Laci Peterson Story (2004)
USA 2 8:00am
Dean Cain plays Scott Peterson. And, we're right back to our Lois and Clark reference from the opening story. The birds poop on the crops, we eat the corn, and in turn poop on the birds. It's the circle of life, folks. We've completed one cycle.
Wednesday November 2
Freddie
ABC 10 8:30pm
This was on when I was bowling last week. I couldn't hear the TV over the crashing noise of the busy lanes, but from what I gathered while watching the show, the premise is Freddie Prinz Jr. and his live-in boyfriend have a hot Latin maid. Pretty progressive stuff for ABC.
Thursday November 3
Knight Rider
Sci-Fi 63 10:00am
"A computer wiz cracks KITT's programming and Michael is forced to battle his own arrogance and poor acting ability." That's what I would've normally written, but hasn't Hasselhoff had enough grief? C'mon, he's got more problems than I could give him. Let's cut him a break and stop piling on the poor guy. I assume he's an okay person. He doesn't write in and tell me how much he hates me, so, here's to you, David! I'm extending the olive branch.
By Sunday morning I had been up for 24 hours. The attempt to sleep would prove to be futile. Instead of trying to fight the sun with clamped eyelids and pillows piled over my head, I popped out of bed and rode my bike to the bar. By the end of the Steelers game I'm three bourbons to the wind with a breakfast burrito anchor. What a perfect time to call friends and arrange a bike ride to Pacific Beach for lobster tacos and an afternoon highball. Somehow the day gets filled. Sleep is a pleasant memory of my youth.
On the way to Rob and Eddie's for Desperate Housewives night, my forehead's against the cold window of Brianna's truck and drool puddles up on my shoulder. When the door clicks open the seatbelt restrains me against falling out onto the blacktop and I'm unbuckled and led up the steps.
Desperate Housewives night is serious business. The group dresses for the event and a drink called a Tall Skinny Bitch is served. There are crackers, oyster dip, and me on the floor, curled up around my Vanilla Stoli and Diet Coke. High heels and loafers click on the hardwood around my head and the danger of getting stepped on fires off my survival mechanisms and keeps me awake long enough to make it through the first half.
By the second half I'm in a two-dimensional paper forest. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and apple pie. I'm carrying a circular Tupperware filled with the wishes of 14 Hungarian immigrants. Behind the pump house I dig in the black earth so I can bury their wishes. There's a ransom for the plastic container but I don't want the money. I roll oblong rocks across my shins and tiny leaves cling to my eyelashes.
"Freeze, right there, mister." It's Lois Lane and that blond one with the pink cast. Lois Lane is pointing a yellow water pistol at me. "Hand over the wishes and I won't have to use this thing." Frightened by her threat, I proffer the lime-green box up, and it's snatched away by the fading beauty on crutches.
After checking to make sure the wishes are still inside, Lois says to me, "Oh, and by the way, you're snoring."
"What?"
"You're snoring. You're snoring." My eyes blink against the harsh glare and focus on the face in front of me. It's Rob. "You're snoring and you're ruining Desperate Housewives night."
WHAT I WILL AND WON'T WATCH THIS WEEK
Thursday October 27
Inside Dish With Rachael Ray
FOOD 10:30am
Renee recently informed me that her favorite Thanksgiving fare is bourbon-marinated turkey. Since she told me this I've eaten only foods I can soak in bourbon. Meats are great this way. Cheeses take on a sweet smoky flavor. Fruits are a little harsh, though, and cookies are downright inedible. Before starting on this new diet I didn't think cereal could get any better, but there you have it.
Survivor: Guatemala -- The Maya Empire
CBS 08 8:00pm
I think I burnt myself out on Survivor . I haven't watched one episode since last season. I don't know if the honeymoon is over or we're just in a slump. At one point we were really in love, the big one. But, so far this year, the thrill is gone.
Friday October 28 Cheers
TVLAND 59 12:00am
My very liberal roommates, Kip and Tony, have invented a drink called the Karl Rove. It's made with J...germeister and --I wish I were making this up -- something called "White Fungus Juice" that we picked up from Ranch 99 Asian Market. I don't think it'll catch on in the shiny shirt dance clubs of the Gaslamp Quarter but its distinct flavor and lingering aftertaste are perfect for an indictment party. The drink is supposed to be unpleasant but necessary. Just the thought of it makes me clamp my lips down so no J...germeister or white fungus juice can get in.
Saturday October 29
Da Vinci's Inquest
WB 5 5:00pm
I've noticed a frightening new trend in popular culture of the media to swing from Leonardo Da Vinci's jockstrap. There are books, television programs, and instructional DVDs on how to be more like Leonardo. Are you trying to be more like Leonardo? The first step is to stop running around pinching your nipples in delight over an artist who's been dead for 500 years.
Design on a Dime
HGTV 71 7:30pm
While I have loved living with my friends for the past year, it's time I got a place of my own. A little cottage in North Park where I can have barbecues, tea parties, or some meditative alone time. My roommates also hate it when I sit down naked, kick my feet out in front of me, and pull myself across the carpet hand-over-hand. So. You know. Getting my own place is win-win.
Sunday October 30
The Modern Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1998)
UPN 13 4:00pm
UPN modernizes Mark Twain's dusty old tale. Some people might call such an activity an intrusion, but I say, "Kudos, UPN." It's time to bring the so-called "classics" into the new millennium. Oh, wait. You can't hear sarcasm in print. Okay, then. This is necrophilia and really an example of everything that's wrong with society today. How's that?
Monday October 31
Frankenstein (2004)
USA 2 8:00am
I don't want to go to work! BLAH! I think I'm coming down with a touch of the bird-flu pandemic. Maybe it's polio or spinal meningitis. Whatever. I'm not coming in.
Tuesday November 1
The Perfect Husband: The Laci Peterson Story (2004)
USA 2 8:00am
Dean Cain plays Scott Peterson. And, we're right back to our Lois and Clark reference from the opening story. The birds poop on the crops, we eat the corn, and in turn poop on the birds. It's the circle of life, folks. We've completed one cycle.
Wednesday November 2
Freddie
ABC 10 8:30pm
This was on when I was bowling last week. I couldn't hear the TV over the crashing noise of the busy lanes, but from what I gathered while watching the show, the premise is Freddie Prinz Jr. and his live-in boyfriend have a hot Latin maid. Pretty progressive stuff for ABC.
Thursday November 3
Knight Rider
Sci-Fi 63 10:00am
"A computer wiz cracks KITT's programming and Michael is forced to battle his own arrogance and poor acting ability." That's what I would've normally written, but hasn't Hasselhoff had enough grief? C'mon, he's got more problems than I could give him. Let's cut him a break and stop piling on the poor guy. I assume he's an okay person. He doesn't write in and tell me how much he hates me, so, here's to you, David! I'm extending the olive branch.
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