I'm not talking about that weird polygamist cult in Texas. I'm talking about the life source, the tube, the telly...my good friend, television. For example, I'm sitting here with Jamie; she's on the couch, I'm in the 90-degree-angle corduroy chair (that I have come to love). I've got plenty to do...laundry, dishes, any number of craft projects that are in my head, waiting to be done. But no. We've just finished watching American Idol, where Mariah Carey 'coached' the idols and they all sang renditions of her songs. Now we're watching Desperate Housewives of New York...last night we watched The Hills, followed by the new fave, The Paper. All quality programming that makes you feel like you got just a tad stupider (see? that's not even a word). But I can't help but watch. Tonight premieres another fab reality show...Workout. It's great...a lesbian owner in LA and all her trainers...what's not to love? Jackie freaks me out, but I'm strangely intrigued. Can't...not...watch. Not sure what's on tomorrow, but I can't wait to find out.
I probably should note that Gib and I did run outside today. A lot. I'm already sore. We're not complete couch potatoes. Just partial ones.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
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1 comments:
You're not couch potatoes, you're like Baked Lays. And speaking of food, why no crawfish-on-the-finger shots? Are you not allowed to do that in public???
I have to admit, I like my 90 degree wing-back chair now too...must mean we're getting old.
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