To The Grave

People shouldn’t flick their tongues, you know, in that pseudo-sexual way, it’s nasty. They especially shouldn’t do it on TV, you guessed it, I watched the season premiere of Kloe and Lamar... you know, Kardashian.

If one of the Kardashians was having chemo, they’d have 15 people there, coiffed to death to bear witness {and they’d bring wine to drink, maybe a catered lunch and fire-breathing acrobats for entertainment} and the one with cancer wouldn’t notice all the ones there or the canapes, they’d notice the single person absent and then there’d be drama, lots of whining and complaining and hurt feelings about why so and so didn’t show up. Eventually, there’d be a mediated reconciliation, but man, these folks are drama queens and I’m including the Kardashian men in that, big time.

So yeah, I’ve gotta quit, this is a bad habit, is there a patch for the Kardashians? I’m going to stick with only the shows I watch with G, the mom/boy bonding shows which currently are 30 Rock, The Firm and get this, The Voice. Boy turned me on to The Voice, and I love it, I was hooked immediately, those giant chairs of power with the button of approval that makes the great sound, zoinggggg. I don’t know how the rest of the show works, but the Blind Auditions are brilliant. Really, it’s a great concept, there are some great singers and there’s none of the mean, let’s make fun of you snarkiness of Idol which I banned him from years ago for getting too heavily invested and because I hated it.

You want to know how to alienate your teenaged grandson? You come over for a few days and monopolize the TV 24/7 at blaring decibels. Then, when he invites you to watch 30 Rock because it’s “the best, funniest, most hilarious, clever show” in his words, you sit there and say things like “this is funny?... how is this supposed to be funny?... oh this is so stupid, what is wrong with these people?...how could anyone find this funny?”

G said to me when we went up to bed “mom, I feel your pain, that was the worst half an hour of my life.” And it probably was, that boy has a charmed life.

So while I’m being bossy, let me tell you what not to say to someone with cancer. Don’t ask them why or how they got it. And if you have a theory, don’t share it. Unless they’ve been toasting marshmallows by the ambient heat emanating from their neighborhood nuclear power plant, take it to the grave.