I�ve decided not to let work beat me. Well, at least not today. I mean, I know me well enough to know that sooner or later I�m bound to go spastic about my job (at least I�m reliable in that sense), but for now I�m determined to keep my head held high. They keep shoveling these assignments on top of me like so much manure at an amateur rodeo, and I keep shoveling it back. I�m serving it up like a true Top Model.
I love that show. America�s Next Top Model? Love it. Every week I think I love it the most I possibly can, and then I love it a little bit more. Funny thing about that, too, is that I was totally planning to hate Tyra Banks when I first started watching. I mean, every reality show needs someone to revile and snort at with derisive laughter (but only one -- see FOX�s reality programming schedule for examples of why more is not necessarily better when it comes to despicable people). I fully expected Tyra to be all, "Don�t hate me because I�m beautiful," and I was like, "Don�t worry, I�m sure I can find other reasons. Bring it on, supermodel!" And then she brought it, and I was like, "This chick is kinda funny!"
In any case, since work is like this whirlwind lately, where shit just seems to spin around me at 100mph, dangerously grazing my head in many cases, TV has become more of an escape than usual for me. Looking back, I�ve noticed that quite a few of my entries for the last couple weeks have been about television --- this isn�t something new, of course, but the prevalence of TV-related subjects seems to be a lot more apparent in recent days. Not that there isn�t anything else happening in my life, of course, but most of it stresses me out just thinking about it. So I�d rather not.
TV does not stress me out. Well, except for American Idol, because it�s tough watching stupid people get their dreams shattered by other stupid people. And then the stupid people who are getting their dreams shattered try to back-talk the dream-shatterers, and it really makes me not care so much anymore that they�re getting the piss taken out of them. Like, just shut up, say thanks, and walk away. If you think I�m going to vote for someone with an attitude problem and an ego the size of Wichita, you�re crazy.
Which brings us to The Apprentice. Have y�all seen this show? All these back-stabbing corporate weasel wannabes try and, er, trump one another (pardon the pun) to become the last back-stabbing corporate weasel wannabe left standing. Apparently, the grand "prize" at the end is some kind of job working for Donald Trump. That seems counterintuitive, if you ask me. Sure, he�s a big shot, but I hardly think a future of constant verbal abuse and hectoring by a known egomaniac makes for a very good prize. Oh well, what do I know about big business? Still, whenever those jokers go into the boardroom at the end of the program (for one of them to meet their inevitable [and in most cases overdue] firing), I�m always struck by the same thought. Were I in Trump�s shoes, I�d�well, first I�d get a new toupee, but then I�d fire the whole damn lot of �em! What a bunch of obnoxious, self-serving, two-faced, smarmy, dishonest, smug, charmless parasites. I haven�t seen such blatantly aggressive attempts at ladder-climbing since my last game of Donkey Kong.
In any case, if I were in charge of a multi-million dollar, globally renowned corporation, I wouldn�t want anyone as untrustworthy as those brats working for me. Although I guess that�ll never really be an issue, will it? But if any of those suckers tried to mess with me, I�d really serve it up like a true. Top. Model.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: fancy napkins And: drinking songs german nazi I�m Watching: American Idol. The faces change, but the attitudes and delusions all stay the same. And: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Kinda makes me wish I had a few thousand dollars to throw around, too.