Experimenting

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Hello World. I am experimenting. Way cool. I bet a monkey could do this faster than me (and better). Can you hear me now??

Really??

Soon our world will be divided into two groups:

1. Those “starring” in reality television shows.

2. Those watching reality television shows. (Aka the audience).

Recently, I was channel surfing which does not burn up nearly as many calories as real surfing but I am hydrophobic and a girl has got to get exercise anyway she can. I fell into the abyss of the “The Bachelor.” It was scary in a Ray Bradbury kind of way. No giant monsters or mad slashers, just an insidious descent into a self induced trance. My brain was being destroyed while my eyes were feasting on Brad’s good looks. I heard later on he is a schmuck from a regular watcher, but hey Reality TV is a lot like college. We are pretending to go for knowledge but it is really just an excuse to look for the next party.

As I watched Brad on a couch with his choice I kept wondering why does the guy get to choose? Later on I learned there is the same format for a reality show where the woman gets to choose. Is this true? Is this for real? I mean really, this seems like a rather difficult way to find a mate. Can’t these people go to a bar like I did? Hey, I have been married for almost 17 years. The bar scene works. Ahhh, but alas, no audience was there to watch me go on thousands (I am not exaggerating) bad blind dates, or sappy singles events organized by strangers. The only one watching my silly life unfolding was my mom and I assure you she never found it entertaining.

But Brad and the bevy of beauties begging for his narcissistic ass to be theirs for the kissing had a loyal audience. Millions of Americans watched as Brad and bimbo after bimbo, oops I mean bathing beauty after bathing beauty, soaked up the sun and experienced fabulous adventures called “dates”. I am guessing most of the audience was female, and I would feel perfectly safe in assuming (yes another dangerous sport that does not help with weight loss) that no one watching the show ever went on a “date” where they get to fly to another continent and ride on an elephant. Who would not feel wooed? How does Brad afford it all? Oh, wait, he doesn’t. It is the newest version of “Dutch Treat”, a major television network foots the bill for the dates and all you have to do is be very good looking to go.

Why exactly was Brad “chosen” to be “the bachelor”? He is movie star handsome. You see men are not the only ones who like to gaze upon physically superior beings with whom they will never be able to copulate. Hip Hip Hooray for Women’s Liberation. Brad is the male equivalent of a Playboy Bunny. In the good old days one never heard the Bunnies speaking. Their silence was as much a part of their costume as their cottontails and ears. Now we get to hear Bunnies thanks to Hugh Hefner sharing his life (reality hits again). This is why we have shows like the Bachelor. Male Bunnies are demanding equal time and pay.

Oh how I miss the good old days where the picture perfect people lay their one-dimensional lives in between the pages of magazines. Really, I do.

The Bitch is Back

I am at the apple store with Steve for a one on one, not that kind of one on one. It is the kind of one on one where a 25 year old tells an old lady how to maneuver on a computer. It is sad but true, I used a reference to an old Elton John song for the title of this post and Steve had no idea what I was referencing. He also let me know WordPerfect is no longer available and I am actually using Microsoft word. Next thing you know he will be helping me cross the street.

See you tomorrow. I am going to learn how to take this out of Microsoft Word (aka Wordperfect for those of us over 50) and put it on my blog!