June 7th, 2005

sinner ioan

Television and books.

Waking up early to face the harsh light of day is a lot easier when you remember to place your sunglasses beside your bed the night before. Good show, self. Good show.

After the obligatory early morning driving of my mother to work and spat of errands that were connected with that, I came home to find my sisters engrossed in a VH1 TOP 20 countdown. When I say engrossed, I mean they were studying it with a level of intensity one would normally only reserve for deciphering ancient texts found of fragments of papyrus in Egypt. You'd think it was a lost gospel, instead it's a bunch of women running around and asking, "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was me?" (And furthermore, that song is just -- there so very much about it that makes me stare, open mouthed that it's really happening on my screen.) Now Shakira is doing something where she's covered in motor oil -- this is entirely strange to me. I feel like I'm in an alien culture.

And no matter how many times I fake choking to death on my water, they won't let go of the remote control so that I can find something else to watch, perhaps one of the five million Law & Order syndicate shows (and honestly, what's next in that franchise? Law & Order: DISPATCHERS AND SECRETARIES ??)

Now is the time on sprockets when I make myself poptarts, and then I'm going to regroup and attack the remote again. This Top 20 countdown will not stand. I'm drawing a line in the sand.

Across that line, there are no fifteen year olds singing torch songs about being spoiled. There is no Shakira in motor oil. Over here, there is only the music I choose, and certainly no smarmy, heavy eyebrowed jerk callling himself a VJ when in reality he's the obvious product of nepotism of some kind because he certainly has no talent and he's really really weird looking so unless he's related to someone or slept with someone there is no explaining his career. I rather like it here, on my side of the line in the sand.

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ETA: Funny how I'm a total tool and do lj-cuts wrong. Funny, indeed,
  • Current Music
    Red Right Ankle-The Decemberists
get yr RIFT ON! - slod

Ahh, from the mouthes of babes:

My 12 year old sister, on the subject of Paul Walker: "He's so hot! I mean, he's just, like, beautiful. He's so beautiful, he's like a painting. It's like he couldn't be real. It's like you should hang him on your wall, just so you can look at him all the time. That movie with him and the bald guy is really horrible, but they're both really hot."
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    amused amused