Devices and Desires

I feel liberated through tech chains. See, my loyalty to Verizon has paid off in a netbook, and a great deal more. For I did not want the Droid or the Berry or the iPhone, as I do not need to watch Beyonce when I leave my house to catch the bus or train, and I don't leave my house much freaking anyway. I do not even use my cell for that reason, and because it annoys the hell out of me.
MY THING was: how to not freak if Comcast gets drunk and my cable is out, and/or mosquitoes are blocking all the WiFi. Which means the netbook. Which means, as long as cell crap can fly through the air, I am connected. And what I love most is how, with my laptop and my Nook and my new netbook (her name is 7), and even with the clunky old emergency desktop boxed up in the closet, I am a superbly tech guy who will only, when absolutely necessary, carry the cell I pick up at Wal-Mart. This means I get to stay true to my old fart status.
Beat that, Beyonce.

Reality Check

What's happened to me? How can this be? I was cool with my Housewives switch shutting down, truly, But, now - I can't deal with my last Reality genre fix, Biggest Loser. I can't take it. I can't stomach (sorry) it any more, and I'm at a point where, if I see anyone crying anywhere and for any reason at all, like death or war or some shit, I will hit them. Ditto, snarling. You have ruined it for me, Jillian.
However, as with the Bravo whores, I think I know why my liking went south so hard. The housewives went too far in merchandising; BL went too far in timing. Hour shows are stretched to two hours, and they fill the time with delayed fanfare entrances Cher only dreams of. Then, extra and interminable minutes are packed with the VERY LAST THING this show needs: more tears.
So long, BL. If weeping and uttering trendy catchphrases chewed up calories, these folks would never need to step on a treadmill again.