1. Sonic, you rule. I braved the line today, since I got out early. It wasn’t too awful, about 35 minutes, and most of that on Wade Rd. Once you get into the actual parking lot, at least if you’re using the drive-thru, it moves at a good clip. I got a bacon cheeseburger, tots, and a limeaid (diet, natch). It was all fabulous! I’m utterly hooked on the limeaid, too, but I have a weakness for anything lime. Most surprising of all? It filled me. It’s 3 hours later, and I’m still full. Not your usual junk food.
2. Local commercials are so bad. Some of them even enjoy being bad. Most are annoying. Fucillo? Won’t even go there. It wouldn’t be nearly as bad but I’ve noticed that they actually run TWO ads in every break. Cat’s Eye? Euthanize that thing; it looks like it’s on meth and shouldn’t be carrying a nuclear accelerator like some little feline Ghostbuster. Certain lawyers (not naming names, lest I invite libel) I would never use, because their commercials make them look like buffoons. Oh, and Mike the Russian? Is that for real? We change every team name that has the faintest hint of racism or offense, but this guy…is he really Russian? I find it hard to believe, but I suppose anything’s possible.
3. Sitcoms are even worse. Maybe I’ve lost my sense of humor, but I find most sitcoms to be horribly trite. They try too hard, the lines feel forced, like a comedian fishing for a laugh, and some of that may be the actor but I sense it lies more in the writing. Sexual jokes are delivered like the actors think they are “getting away with something”…like the censors care? They just watch for wardrobe malfunctions these days. Canned laughter detracts from it, too. You know, I almost miss the old variety shows, like Carol Burnett, where you could pick out individual laughs and sounds from a live studio audience (and their own laughs as they all cracked each other up). I’m just happy there’s more thriller/paranormal things coming out…Bates Motel, Wayward Pines, that sort of stuff.
4. I don’t…. think I can dance, or sing. Or have any sort of stage talent. Or have a paranormal experience I want to describe poorly on TV. Or have a need to air my dirty laundry for Jerry or Maury or Jenny or Ellen or Bipsy or Helenora. In truth, I don’t even really have dirty laundry. I don’t have a need to be on Judge Judy suing someone, only to be torn apart for her entertainment (with a case I’ve seen 387 people lose before). I don’t have a vaginal mesh, or a pelvic sling, or suffer from some kind of noma because I inhaled my basement. I’m not in a market for a catheter, or adult diapers. And neither do/are you…so just stop.
5. Kindle books should not be more than 5 or 6 bucks. It’s a download. I’m seeing some for $14.99. Dude, big name or not, ITS A DOWNLOAD.