ON AMERICAN IDOL
I had high hopes for the new American Idol judge. After all, the only other female counterpart is a little flaky, more than a little needy, and has been known to say, “Two words: PHE. NOMENAL.” This new judge seems easier to watch, more articulate, and she’s prettier than Paula Abdul. And looks are everything! I mean, Charity Never Faileth! But then the new judge had to go on and say this last week: “Six words: One of the best performances of the night.” Hmm….One…two…three…seven…eight.” I give up. I also had a moment while watching the show recently when Randy Travis was the guest artist. During one contestant’s performance they panned the audience and I saw a gentleman sitting in his seat and I thought, “Hey, there’s Sting!” and then I went, “No, wait a minute, that’s Randy Travis.” And then I thought how if Kacy and Lisa learned of my mistake they might never forgive me. Sorry guys. Still friends?
ON MY NEW CALLING
We gave my daughter a cell phone for her birthday. She’s thirteen now, and needs unlimited texting like I need oxygen. I’ve never really texted before, so I’m still on a learning curve. Yesterday I had to google ROTFL. Most of the texting garble I’ve been able to figure out, just because I’m naturally smart that way. But FTLOM I have not been able to decipher certain ones. Incidentally, ROTFL means Rolling On The Floor Laughing, but you probably already knew that. And FTLOM? For The Life Of Me. Duh!
ON THE RADIO
I was listening to a program on the radio the other day when I heard the DJ ask his guest a question, and the guest answered, “I’m on it like Oprah on a baked ham.” I promised myself to commit that to memory just in case I ever end up on the Dr. Phil show and need material.
ON WEDNESDAYS
Cory is no fun when it comes to baked goods. He would rather have stir fry vegetables over brown rice than a chocolate chip cookie, and it makes our ability to communicate very difficult sometimes. Like last week. He came home and discovered a fresh batch of cookies on the counter, and noted out loud, “Oh, you made cookies,” to which I responded, “Yep.” “What’s the occasion?” he asked. “Um…” I thought deep and hard, “…it’s Wednesday?”
ON ROSIE O’DONNELL
Don’t tempt me.
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