Slow night in West Tennessee, so Squeegee, Rodent and I are sitting around watching American Idol.
I have never seen this show before. Well, that's not true, I have passed by it while surfing the channels but Squeegilicious loves it, so we sat down to ponder why people do this to themselves, and then of course, why are we watching it in the first damn place.
After a night of lamb vittles (blech) which sort of rocked my world, I decided to stay home.
I get American Idol.
Lots of vibrato shaking us up, and we decided that, although it goes without saying we couldn't do any better, the performances were still nothing to right home about.
So, we are waiting patiently for Anderson Cooper, because we like him but we were given some enlightening (not really) revelations about karaoke singers looking for a record deal on Fox. (No disrespect to Kelly Clarkson who won some Grammys but we don't buy her CD's either.)
Rodent thought that Paula Abdul, with her ill-advised hairdo, looked sort of like Chaka from Land of the Lost. Squeegee explained to me that Randy Jackson says "Dawg" because the other Idols are in a dog pound (okay, I don't get it, but I've never seen this show, so give me a break) and of course we made fun of him for knowing this information in the first place and Simon Cowell, well, he sort of made me laugh because although he's rude, he's also right about all of spectacle so we sort of liked him. (He is Squeegie's Idol and he shares my birthday, so he got some love from us.)
So the sad, pathetic truth is we need to get out more and that next week, if we watch the show which we will, we will need some affordable beer.