Recent conversation at the LadyBug house

April 19, 2007

*Caution: American Idol results show SPOILER below!*

[American Idol‘s Wednesday night results show ends.]

LadyBug: Okay, girls, get your medicine and go potty; it’s time for bed!

[The Drama Queen and Miss Attitude leave the room.]

Deputy Dad: Whew.  That’s a relief.

LadyBug: What’s a relief?

Deputy Dad: Sanjaya got kicked off American Idol, and it’s time for [the kids] to go to bed.

LadyBug: So, which one are you more relieved about?

[Pause]

Deputy Dad: Well, right now, I think it’s a tie.


NaBloPoMo Day 16: Phoning It In

November 16, 2006

I’m swamped at work and at home today, but I don’t want to skip out on my NaBloPoMo duties. (Heh, I accidently typed NaBloPoMom. Freudian slip?)

Have you ever watched a press conference and noticed how it takes some of those reporters for-freaking-EVER to construct their questions? Well, here’s a clip from Craig Ferguson’s* show, where they’ve poked a little fun at Donald Rumsfeld as he waits to answer those 57-part questions.

Clicking here will take you to the YouTube video. I tried to embed it here, but WordPress got bitchy with me, and I’m too busy and tired to argue with it.

*Craig Ferguson is one of my secret crushes. The accent totally does it for me. Hee.

Note: I found this video – or one like it, anyway – yesterday while surfing the NaBloPoMo Randomizer, but I cannot for the life of me remember on whose blog I found it.


Also? Let’s be sure to catch that on film, shall we?

October 31, 2006

Have you seen this news item, about Isaiah Washington and Patrick Dempsey getting into a “scuffle” on the set of Grey’s Anatomy?

Grey’s Anatomy Hotness

Come on, boys. The least you guys could do for your fans is strip down to your boxer briefs and get oiled up before you go at each other like that.


* SPOILER ALERT* Rockstar: INXS

August 17, 2005

Just a few footnotes to tonight’s elimination show:

MiG is a class act.

I think Deanna had a seizure during her song. And I kept worrying her skirt would fall down.

It’s about time Jessica went home. (Props to Closet Metro for totally predicting that one.)


Blogging Rockstar: INXS

August 16, 2005

Some thoughts on tonight’s episode of Rockstar:INXS:

  • What the hell was that chain-thing dangling from Brooke Burke‘s hand all night?
  • Why does Dave Navarro look so much like Satan?
  • Jordis totally rocked. Not surprising. She always does.
  • Jessica = largely forgettable
  • Seriously, WTF was Ty thinking, with those plaid polyester pants?
  • I’m not sure I heard any of Suzie‘s performance. That sparkly nose ring was too damn distracting.
  • Every week I am more and more impressed with Marty. He got stuck with (gack, I can’t even type her name) you-know-who’s (Hit Me)…Baby One More Time. He totally rearranged it, “took out the candy,” as he said, and made it a little dark. Wow. Just…wow.
  • Deanna‘s performance was just painful to watch. Pack your bags, hon.
  • J.D. = cocky bastard.
  • MiG…ah, MiG. I love your way, too, Baby.

Anyone else have anything to add? Mrtl?


Because I am all about the list-making…

May 16, 2005

Three reasons I am frowning today:

1. It’s Monday morning. Again. Need I say more?

2. Baby Boy REFUSES to sleep through the night these days. Deputy Dad and I are frustrated and EXHAUSTED.

3. I am facing an UNBELIEVABLE schedule of activities this week, which is TOTALLY STRESSING ME OUT. For example, this afternoon I will pick Miss Attitude up from school at 3:10, then pick The Drama Queen up from school and Baby Boy from the sitter, race to the house to fix the girls a snack, get homework done, and nurse Baby Boy. I will then rush, while dragging the kids along, to meet with Mother-In-Law and a friend at 4:30 to rehearse a couple of songs for Friday night’s local American Cancer Society Relay for Life activities. (I just got a call last week, at practically the last minute, asking our trio to sing this coming Friday. And I said yes. Because I am a glutton for punishment. And because I am, apparently, mildly retarded.) We’ll probably practice ’til about 5:30 or so. Then Miss Attitude has T-ball practice from 6:00 to 7:00. (I can’t just leave her there, not only because I want to watch her practice, but also because the area where they practice is Not A Good Neighborhood, and I just WON’T leave her there without Deputy Dad or me there to keep an eye on her.) Once her practice is over, we’ll still be faced with supper, baths and bedtime.
Rinse and repeat for tomorrow and Thursday, except throw in The Drama Queen’s softball practice, from 5:30 to 6:30. That’s right. I’ll take The Drama Queen to practice at 5:30, take Miss Attitude to practice at 6:00. Pick up The Drama Queen at 6:30, pick up Miss Attitude at 7:00. All the while dragging Baby Boy around with me.

HOWEVER…

Three Four reasons I am smiling today:

1. I had the pleasure of talking on the phone with my Best Blogging Friend, Colleen, on Saturday night. We had such a good visit, and chatted so easily, it felt like we’d known each other for years.

2. Speaking of pleasure, this weekend, Deputy Dad and I……[yeah, like I’m really gonna give you THOSE details].

3. Despite the fact that my children often drive me crazy and are threatening to send me to an early grave, they really are very cute and very sweet, and I couldn’t be more in love with them.

[Updated to add a fourth reason I am smiling]

4. I am simply thrilled that hard-working, all-around-great-guy, NYC Fireman Tom won Survivor: Palau over sniveling, whining, flip-flopping Katie. It’s been a long time since the winning Survivor was someone who truly deserved it.
[I am, however, frowning because I missed Desperate Housewives to watch the Survivor finale. I think Mother-In-Law may have taped it, though.]


Blogging The Bachelor – The Morning After

March 29, 2005

In what must surely be a sign of my childbirth-and-sleep-deprivation-induced drop in intelligence, I have once again allowed myself to be sucked into the Vortex of Evil that is The Bachelor.

[Picture me, now, shaking my fist at the sky and screaming to the heavens WHY? WHY? WHY?]

Don’t get me wrong. I know what an idiotic sham this show is. I hold no googly-eyed-teenage-girl dreams for a Happily Ever After ending, wherein the bachelor and his Chosen One walk hand-in-hand into the sunset as the orchestra swells the strains of “Love is a Many Splendored Thing.”

I mean, seriously. Think about the premise for a moment.

Let’s have 25 genetically enhanced and/or surgically altered women compete for the affections of one horny guy. We’ll have all the women live together, to attract a male audience, because as we all know, most men still hold out hope that beautiful women who room together have topless pillow fights. We’ll also throw in large doses of swimming pool and hot tub action, giving the audience plenty of gratuitous skin-baring, and furthering the chances for toplessness and/or complete nudity.

It’s absurd, really. But it’s the sheer absurdity of it that draws me in. The way these women fight like…well…catty women over a man they all met two minutes ago. The way the bachelor pretends to be searching for his One True Love, when it’s fairly obvious to the viewing audience how thrilled he is to be dating twenty-five women at once. “Oh, I just never imagined it would be so hard.” Yeah, buddy. We know exactly what’s hard here.

Some highlights from last night’s show:

In a “new and exciting twist,” the bachelorettes, most of whom were still asleep in their hotel rooms (a close-up of a clock showed it was 8:35 AM) were told they had five minutes to get ready and be downstairs to meet the bachelor (Charlie O’Connell, wannabe actor and brother of actor Jerry O’Connell). Chaos ensued, as most of the women were forced to prioritize…which is more important? A shower or contact lenses? Fresh breath or fresh pits? Makeup or hair? Several women met the bachelor in their pajamas, several others had no makeup on, etc. A few, however, looked dressed, made up, and ready to go, which totally PISSED OFF a few of the unshowered, bare-faced gals. “You know, some of these girls look like they had extra time getting ready.” Apparently, it never occurred to Miss Pissypants Sleepyhead that SOME people might have been up BEFORE the producers banged on the hotel room doors at eight-fargin-thirty in the morning.

In another “twist” (this season promises to be full of them…well, full of something, anyway), instead of the usual group meet-and-greet, each bachelorette had two minutes alone with the bachelor to make her first impression. (This was, apparently, a shortened version of the old junior high game Seven Minutes in Heaven.) One by one the bachelorettes filed through, each trying desperately to stand out…and by stand out I mean, of course, shove her bulbous, not-found-in-nature boobs in Charlie’s face, as Kimberley did.

Then there was professed swimsuit model Kristine, who dropped her dress for Charlie, revealing her itty-bitty bikini. She later “revealed,” during a group date, that she was a private investigator for the government, just before she engaged Charlie in what was possibly the longest, most awkward embrace I have ever seen.

Another highlight occurred during that same group date, when Charlie, our knight in shining armor (yeah, right) got snockered. After consuming drink after drink, including body shots, Charlie’s speech was obviously slurred; he was one beer commercial away from mumbling “I love you, man” to the nearest talking head. At that point I called my mother-in-law and laughed, “Oh my God, he’s soused!”

I should note here that the most fun I have watching The Bachelor, is in the phone conversations with my mother-in-law during the commercials. She’s a little more “in to” the show than I am, so I feel the need to call her on almost every commercial break, not only to remind her how ridiculous the whole thing is, but also to provide some comic relief. Last night we had many laughs over (and made many jabs at) Danushka, a former-model-turned-snooty-pants-snob.

LadyBug: I don’t like Danushka.
Mother-In-Law: Me either.
LB: What the heck kind of name is Danushka, anyway? It sounds like a douche.
MIL: [slightly nervous laughter, thinking Where is she going with this?]
LB: [in my Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator voice] My nem ez Danushka. I am frlesh as a sprling flowa.
MIL: [laughing hysterically, in spite of the fact that I’m dissing her show, ’cause she’s fun like that]

I’m quite sure laughing with my mother-in-law is where my true addiction lies. I think I could easily give up the show, just not the running commentary. Well, maybe I could give up the show. Perhaps.

It’s a sickness, people.