All right, ‘fess up—who watched American Idol last night?? I know, it’s kind of embarrassing to admit—I mean, you may as well have “I’m a reality TV junkie” stamped on your head to listen for two consecutive hours to some of the most acoustically-challenged folks on the planet.? ?
And yet that’s exactly what I did.? I’d like to blame it on the flu, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t explain away the previous few years of Idol debauchery occurring at my home.
What is it about Idol that is so darn addicting?? Is it that cute as a button Ryan Seacrest (I think not—I like my men to look like men)?? The subversive anticipation of seeing if Simon can outdo even himself with his lack of human kindness (although you have to admit, he’s right on the mark most of the time)?? Or are we all just watching to see if Paula? gets hopped up? on? the happy pills again?
Whatever the reason, it’s obvious that American Idol, in all of its manifestations, is completely and repulsively addictive.
Now, on to the good stuff.? Did you see the guy who collected his fingernail clippings in a ziploc bag?? And how did you react—with repulsion, disgust, horror, or something to that effect??
Not me.? I bet I was one of a select few, out of millions of viewers, thinking, “Wow, what a great way to store your finger and toenail particles,? instead of? leaving them in every corner of the house to decay and then jump out and surprise you? at the most inconvenient of moments.”? Like when your in-laws are visiting and you open the pull-out, only to find the toenails of days gone by, up front and center.?
Okay, I concede—I was undoubtedly the only one thinking that.?
At any rate, welcome to the? non-fingernail-free? zone that we like to refer to as home.? Wanna come visit and watch some Idol?? I promise, we don’t have to open the couch.Share on Facebook