In our house The Squeeze is convinced that BB is not only foul, but also immoral. He leaves the room if it’s on. I don’t care much either way, in fact I’m watching it now. I’d prefer it if it was unedited, and just a bunch of people in a room with no ‘tasks’ – just like watching a bunch of sharehousers who’re on the dole. No money, so they can’t afford to go out. No imagination, so they don’t go do free stuff. Eeeexcellent.
But I do have a problem with the new program ‘Honey I’m killing the kids’. Ostensibly a program committed to ‘helping’ parents with overweight kids, rather than focussing on positive reinforcement for the parents and children, I suspect the tools are guilt, guilt and more guilt. Nice. I won’t be watching that.
I’ve watched very little telly lately – beyond the eternal Buffy and Angel (seasons 4 and 2 respectively) – but I have my eye on tonight’s OC. Nice.*
In other, more important news, I have a John Travolta obsession. I am convinced, when I’m dancing, that I am the man. It doesn’t help that I think I’m funny when I strut it, Saturday Night Fever style. It’s particularly unhelpful that lindy is built for strutting. Or, more importantly, blues dancing is built for strutting. A keen balboa fan was asking “you’re into this blues stuff – what’s the deal? I just don’t get it,” and of course, the only response is: “strut. You need to strut. Either take it incredibly seriously, or incredibly unseriously. But strut.” It’s true. Blues dancing is all about strutting.
*NB Willow now has an ibook. An oooold one.