2002-11-18

Heather from Texas – had a whole segment where she was joking about how she was constantly cooking, trying to fatten up the other girls, but it didn’t work. They took a few questions from the audience, and one of them asked “Did any of you actually gain weight while you were in the house [with the other bachelorettes]?” One of the other women (not Heather) said, JOKINGLY, “No, even though Heather tried to fatten us up with her cooking!” So the show moves on for a few minutes, and then all of a frickin’ sudden Heather is CRYING, because it was so MEAN of that other woman to imply that she was REALLY trying to fatten them up, sob, wail, gnashing of the teeth. I think that everyone there had a little cartoon question mark over their head, ’cause I sure as shit did. At this point I don’t care who Aaron The Bachelor with his smack-me face picks, because Helene gets on my nerves, and Brooke is too sweet for his slimy self. I actually thought Gwen was going to end up being his final choice, and was pretty surprised when she ended up leaving last week. Even the annoying ones are too good for him, though. That’s just my opinion, folks, brought about mainly because if a guy’s going to kiss someone with the cameras all around, I do NOT want to actually see his tongue waggling around all over the place. Gah. I was watching Felicity and cross-stitching Friday night, and as the show went to commercial, I glanced up. The commercial began with a woman jogging slowly along a rather scenic trail. She stopped and put her hand to her forehead, staring distractedly off into the distance. I just can’t concentrate, came the voiceover, a soothing, female voice. I wonder if I’m pregnant? If failure to concentrate is a sign of pregnancy, I’ve been pregnant for 34 (almost 35!) years. And speaking of commercials, have you seen the Visa Checkcard commercial with Charlie Sheen? He’s in a movie store, wants to write a check, and so the guy says he’s going to have to call it in. Time passes, with Charlie snoozing on the couch, staring off into space, and trying to flirt with a passing girl (who’s not interested). Finally, we see the clerk, holding up a driver’s license. “This doesn’t look like you,” he says, and lowers it so that we can see Martin Sheen. “It did when I came in here,” says Martin Sheen. I don’t know who came up with that commercial, but it’s funny as hell. Oh, you silly, crazy readers. I’ve gotten enough email to lead me to believe that y’all think that I plan to do the cooking for Thanksgiving. Ha! No WAY, man. I’m going to scrub the house from top to bottom for the three days before Thanksgiving and then spend half of Thanksgiving day cooking? Not in THIS lifetime. Cooking will be Fred’s job, though I’m sure I will cook a supplementary dish (squash casserole) or two. The turkey and all that stuff? His responsibility. And do NOT feel sorry for him (that’s an order!). His sister’s bringing a bunch of food and so is his stepmother, so it’s not like there’ll be all that much for him to do, aside from the dessert and turkey. On the up side, his father brought over a turkey roaster so that the oven is freed up for anything else that needs to be cooked. I’m going to give the roaster a trial run this Wednesday, when I try cooking a chicken in it. Ah, good times in the And3rson house, yes indeedy.]]>