Busy as a motha-eff over here, so listing it shall have to be.
1. Got caught up on Lost episodes over the weekend. Nordic Boy has renamed the series “There’s Too Many People in the Fucking Bushes.” Which there totally are, right? I think there should be a drinking game where you drink every time someone pops out of the bushes.
2. Also for Lost watchers: don’t you love it how the appearance of the smoke monster is always preceded by that maracas sound? So jaunty, that smoke monster.
3. Friends came over for dinner this weekend, and over dinner, we tried to think of tv shows that had the most number of spin-offs that we could think of, as a contest. Nordic Boy and I jointly won the day by coming up with Happy Days, Mork and Mindy, Joanie Loves Chachi, and Laverne and Shirley, which may seem like a no-brainer in hindsight but no one had come up with a quadruple until that point. The room erupted in “AW SNAP!” at our easy win, but then Delium got up and did a celebratory pop-lock in our honor. Because he knows how to show respect, that one.
4. After the contest was exhausted, we looked up lists of spin-offs on the Interwebs and discovered two intriguing titles. “Blansky’s Beauties” (an undiscovered Happy Days spin-off) and “Richie Brockelman, Private Eye” (offa Rockford Files). How could shows with names like these have failed? To quote every single contest show sage on tv: America got it wrong, people.
5. Many of my friends are on Match.com, and they all seemed to talk to me about it this weekend, separately. What does it say that most of them talk about it much as you would talk about a visit to the dentist? Painful and tedious, but it just has to be done.
6. There’s a restaurant in Seattle called Daniel’s Broiler. Ever since St. Patrick’s Day, every time we go past it, we sing “Oh Danny BROIL! The steaks, the steaks are cah-alling,” to the tune of Danny Boy. We shall see how long this takes to get old to us. I am guessing on a shelf life of five years or so.
7. I get to go to Portland with Nordic Boy for the whole week, starting tomorrow. This is not entertaining to anyone but me. I am holding back a celebratory pop-lock even as I sit here.