Friday Night
How is it, that on a Friday night, I end up not only at home alone (well, the baby is here, but until she can control the spit coming out of her mouth she does not count as sufficient company), but at home, alone, watching the most horrible show on TV. America’s. Funniest. Home. Videos.
Don’t know why, but I can’t stand this effing show! You’d think I’d like it, I mean, it’s reality TV at it’s core. But I don’t. It makes my skin crawl. And yet, I’m watching it. Not laughing, just watching.
So lame.
I feel ya sister, I just have a puppy as my baby not able to control her spit!
Um, I hope Heath is reading this because he somehow is attracted to this show like a magnent. And he laughs.