u r b a n s l a n t

Dateline NBC’s To Catch a Predator is on, and they’re set up in the Florida town I grew up in, arresting man after man after man meeting up with supposed 13-year-old girls for sex. I don’t recognize or know any of the 21 sex offenders involved, nor any of the police officers, but I sure recognize A1A and the beach the men are arriving at. I’d write more, but I have to go scrub off the film of creepy filth I now feel all over myself.

While having lunch…

“So, do you celebrate Chinese New Year’s?”

“Well, I suppose I would if I were Chinese.”

So, if you judge a group by its weakest link, do you judge a country by its dumbest citizens? What’s next, Are You Dumber Than An American? Because you just know that day is coming.

So I was in the middle of googling “astronaut diapers” when I heard that Anna Nicole Smith cashed her check this afternoon. What the? At the risk of sounding crass, I’m going to say that if you had told me last week that the biggest upcoming news stories were going to be one woman trekking across the country wearing plastic pants to kill her lover’s lover and another woman unexpectedly passing away at a relatively young age and then asked me to guess which one was an astronaut and which one was Anna Nicole Smith, I would have gotten the answer horribly, horribly wrong. As we know now, they’re white trashing it up at NASA while Anna Nicole bites the big one less than six months after her son dies. Has the world gone mad? I’m so flustered by it all that I can’t possibly focus my mind on writing anything remotely coherent. Plus, I’ve been much too busy watching television. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but y’all, TV is RAD. I totally now get why so many Americans park it in front of the tube every night instead of, say, reading to their children or volunteering at the homeless shelter or engaging in a social life of any kind. Because there are so many awesome shows to watch! Also, it’s seriously so much easier to keep track of the days when you base it on your viewing schedule. The only reason I know today is Thursday is because The Office was on tonight (well, okay, and also because it’s Heaven in a Styrofoam Cup day). Otherwise it might as well be, well, who cares? I’d write more about the scintillating programs that are keeping me glued to the screen (and believe me, there are many!) but The Colbert Report is on, and I hate to miss the truthiness it brings. But here’s what I recommend: House, The Office, American Idol, The Daily Show, Survivorman, I Shouldn’t Be Alive, Naked Science, and Living With Ed. I also tentatively recommend Lost, though I’m still bitter about the awful downward spiral of Alias. I was intrigued by last night’s episode, but, I swear, if 23 turns out to be nothing more than the new 47, I am THROUGH, J.J. and crew! You got that? I’ve seen this before, and I’ve got your number, literally! You’re on notice.

I wanted to write something interesting today, I really did, but between spending an hour-and-a-half commute in sub-zero hell, addressing work crises up the wazoo, and reading up about the astronaut who wore diapers in her car to cut corners on her way to off a romantic rival, who’s got the time? And what sort of interesting thing could I possibly write that would top an astronaut wearing diapers in her car to cut corners on her way to off a romantic rival?? That’s right. NOTHING. It simply cannot be done. I will not even attempt to top that one. Will tomorrow be a better day? Depends… (Oh, come on, you know you laughed.)