Thursday, April 29, 2004

DUDE, VISITORS!
Was it moppet? Was it the Ebay wedding dress? Was it puberty? Well, whatever it was, when I looked this morning, it was "Dude...Visitors!" Maybe there are crop circles around here too. And some corn kids. Whatever the reason, Welcome. I blog in peace. Sit down, relax and read awhile. Sign the Guestbook too, and if you have a page, let me know, and I'll link to you and say all sorts of nice stuff about you as well. Unless you're a prOn site. Then, not so much.

Speaking of the moppet -- well, he's gone. Thankfully. Being cute and having red hair does not qualify you to be a pop music sensation. I was disappointed, though, that he didn't pull out another Barry Manilow tune as his farewell song. I know the first thing that popped into my head was:

All the time, all the wasted time...

See ya, little red-headed kid. Catch you on the B-side.

With all this reality-mania -- and I suppose American Idol sort of qualifies -- it's interesting to sit down and play a little game of compare and contrast. One thing I notice (mostly because of high annoyance factor) are the various catch-phrases that cling to the shows like bathroom mold.

Big Brother loves the Chopping Block. With all the chopping block-ages on this show, you'd think it was a remake of The Six Wives of Henry VIII. Come to think of it, with the likes of Alison and Dana, a chopping block or two isn't all that bad of an idea.....

Survivor was the creator of the Alliance. If you didn't have an alliance, then you were at the mercy of a naked fat guy. Sure, there might be a stray chopping block or two, but without an alliance you'd be voted off the island faster than you could say "On My Go"...

The Apprentice doesn't do chopping blocks or alliances. The Donald don't do cliches, yo. Just a quick You're fired! with a snappy hand-thingy and you're in a cab faster than you can say Omorosa.

The Bachelor goes an entirely different route. Here there is peace and tranquility. Gone is the violence of chopping blocks. Unheard of is the Three Musketeer-esque sworn loyalty of alliances. Instead (for some bizarre reason) we get funeral-speak. "If it's my time to go" is always uttered in hushed, resigned tones, followed by torrents of smudged mascara. I think they could use a chopping block or two.

American Idol is in need of a catch-phrase. Right now they are stuck with Seacrest...OUT! which is an "11" on the Velveeta scale. Maybe a little quirky Donald hand-jive with a "You're FLAT!" would go well. Or tell the losing singer they are going back to the Minor Leagues (ha ha - ok, not so much). Something, anything. Because "Seacrest ... Out" is a little weak. Maybe they could be Hung out to dry....

Well, maybe not.
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