- I've decided that I might continue my occasional bathtub soaking after my ongoing... affliction is resolved. It's a great reason to keep the tub spotless, it's extremely peaceful and thus good for musing (or trancing out to weird rock music), and when I get out I feel like Lex Luthor in the first Superman movie... you know, when he gets out of the pool that's the underground subway station. I don't have a funny cap on, and there's no Otis to robe me (the roommate ain't down with that, nor should he be- I ain't wearing no trunks, especially if I'm getting thinking done), but I guess it's just a thing. I do yell "Otis!" just for the Hell of it. Weird.
- "Marge, I ripped my pants, the only pants that understand my complex heinie." Homer J. Simpson. From this week's all new episode. I know what you're thinking reader, and I know what this means. It means I am becoming Homer Simpson. I might be Homer-licious already.
Not a classic episode of The Simpsons, but a good one; a sharp critique of our makeover obsessed culture, our fixation with gambling and reality show competition, plus our fixation on other people's money and upper class society gazing. Homer selling himself to be a human billboard was also extremely appropos considering the lame ass attempt at viral marketing by the soon to cancelled Fox comedy whatever it's called... Free Ride I think during the commercial break (like I said, lame ass viral marketing). Not a show I'll be watching.
- I will however be watching Footballers Wives on BBC America next Sunday. Very sassy. A spicy meatball. Hot British birds in a soap opera free for all that's got the occasional curse word and titty ( a rarity on my level of Direct TV) thanks to bold programming and British cajones. People talk about TV going to hell on the pay services but really folks, outside of cussing on Comedy Central at 1 AM on weekends and some cussing and titty on BBCAmerica at 10 PM on Sundays it's sadly very tame. Footballers Wives also has nice outfits, some class awareness and a comedy of manners, and is occasionally blisteringly hilarious. It also features beautiful British women with beautiful british accents. A winner with this bloke.
I'll never play FIFA 2006 the same way again.
- And hot shit. On VH1 Classic I just saw a commercial for The Best of Electric Company on DVD. Damn, I loved that show. I don't remember any of it beyond vague images of moving comic strips of Spider-Man (he wuz real I tells ya!) and other weird shit with crazy colors, but I remeber loving it to death at the tender age of whenever it was it was on and I watched it after Sesame Street on Channel 17 (you know, back when children's programming didn't make children retarded), and looking back I'm pretty sure I liked The Great Space Coaster because it was like sort of like (a knock off of) The Electric Company, without so much educational value, because my young brain wanted MORE Electric Company. It probably won't do anything for me at this point, but I think I know what somebody's getting for Christmas (or sooner), and I'm glad she can't read... yet.
- And now some sleep before my day of woe tomorrow. 10 hours (some forced OT) and some calls for the local Democrats, who roped me into another thing. I am such a sucker.