7:14- My Tyler Perry-less streak is over. There I was last night, having changed into my ‘jams on a mission of chill. And there I went, searching for a Seinfeld re-run and finding For Better or Worse– a Tyler Perry joint. I was transfixed as Angela went off on Marcus and trashed his wardrobe. Then she torched his ride and I’m like . . Girl . . oh no you di-in’t! And Marcus is all uh uh, and Angela is like mmm hmm. And I’m like daayuuummm!
8:00- I tune into the ESPY’s. I know, I know . . book Friday nights with me and you’re going five hundred miles an hour on the crazy train! Anyway, this is the first time I’ve paid serious attention to the awards show since Bill Clinton was playing his sax in the Velvet Room at the White House. Rob Riggle was hilarious; he was funnier than Chris Berman trying to be serious. And that Brittney Griner? Not for nothing, but the Miami Heat should have her on speed dial.
Revelation I should probably be just a ‘lil ashamed about, but ain’t . . .
Until last night? I thought Jessica Biel and Jessica Alba were the same person.
8:52- Tune into Christine. I think Stephen King wrote this to embarrass all the other horror writers. He was like, You know what? I’m gonna write about a Plymouth Fury . . that is a serial killer. And people are going to be scared shit, because I’m Stephen Fucking King. I come in where some dude is trying to escape Christine’s clutches . . by running in the middle of the road. No spoiler alert forthcoming.
9:04- Anthony Robbins is on QVC selling the “Ultimate Edge Personal Achievement System”, and I’m interested. Hey, I’m channel surfing on a Friday night, why wouldn’t I be interested? Then I check out the price- $240- and I’m not so interested. I consider prank calling but think better of it. Pranking Anthony Robbins on Friday the 13th is scarier than Chris Berman doing Christine on Broadway.
9:16- After grabbing my chips and a frosty one, I head for TeleMundo and some Corazon Valiente. What?! Samantha and Willy are . . related? I grab another frosty one.
9:35- America’s Dumbest Daredevils features a ghost rider at Number 7. I’m thinking, how can there possibly be six people dumber than this? After which an Ohio State Buckeyes fan jumps into a pool of crap to win game tickets, and then a guy lights himself on fire before riding his bike onto a pile of mattresses. Yep, looks like clear sailing for China . . .
9:41- Cujo makes sense because he’s a rabid St. Bernard, not a car . . .
9:54- Back to Corazon. There aren’t enough frosty ones for this Samantha and Willy situation . . . Que lastima.