I have a new obsession. I mean, something has to fill the rather large void in my life where coffee once percolated. *sob* It's called TruTV which they like to tout as "It's not reality, it's actuality."
No assholes, it's not reality, it's not actuality, it's CRACK COCAINE FOR MY BRAIN. I'm totally smitten. And the best part? It's driving Candy Ass insane.
Every night, we hop into bed and Candy Ass, AKA King of the Remote turns on the TV and sets the sleep timer, settles himself
on his side of the bed in the middle of the goddamn bed and attempts to put on the worst TV ever. And every night, I beg him to turn it to Friends reruns, which never get old. This has been our nightly ritual for forever... until recently when Candy Ass stopped his incessant channel surfing for a nanosecond, which just happened to be long enough for me to fall madly deeply in love with the true stories of the criminally insane that is TruTV at night. Now each night, I hurry to get in bed before him, find the remote and quickly flip it to channel 74 (check your local listings) so we can watch the most addicting TV ever.
And he hates it.
At 10:00 every night there's some version of World's Dumbest Criminals where they show the biggest morons attempting to commit the dumbest damn crimes... all "caught on tape" of course. Then, to add insult to injury, they have all these D list celebrities like Danny Bonaduce (don't get me started -- whatta dickhead) and that one guy from Webster and rocket scientists like Tanya Harding doing commentary. Like they're ones to talk about being idiots... Ahem.
Hey. You laugh at me like I'm stupid for watching - you try and turn it off!
Then at 11:00 comes Forensic Files. Now I don't know what it is about this show that is so mesmerizing, but I cannot not watch. And someone please tell me why it's always the husband or boyfriend?? Part of me thinks I need to watch FF now just to protect my own interest from my other half. If you know what I'm saying. (Are you picking up what I'm puttin' down? I don't want him to read between the lines, if you catch my drift. WINK.)
Thanks to FF, I am now well-versed in arsenic poisoning, what certain blood spatter tells forensic scientists and that you better not stab me near a TV where blood can seep through the speaker, remain there for years, and even after you've sold the ghetto-ass TV, it can still be tracked down by the NCIS and result in a conviction of your sorry ass a full decade later, mkay? I can also solve a cold case with one single button, track down a hit-and-run driver with only a two-tone paint chip and a fraction of a plastic headlight cover and identify a rapist by the rare species of grass found on his sweatpants.
In other words, DON'T FUCK WITH ME BITCHES.
(But honestly? I am a bit scared that criminals are probably watching these shows too, like, to get ideas and to learn what not to do. I mean, if I were a criminal - and this is by no means an admission of guilt *does the sign of the cross* - it would be against my effed up code of ethics and written standard operating procedures to be out strangling people past 11:00 PM 'cause that's when I do's my research. Further proof you HAVE to have a good business plan.)
(Actually something else scares me too. It's the way Candy Ass rolls his eyes when the perp gets caught thanks to forensic science at the end of every show and he's like, Dude, I'd NEVER get caught. They'd NEVER find the body! his attitude all nonchalant and serial killerish. I mean, I'm in a heap of shit if Candy Ass is a serial killer 'cause a) he could *try* to kill me, b) I'd worry that there is a serial killer gene my boys could be carrying and, c) who in the hell will ever have us over for dinner or poker once word gets out?)
(Am I over-thinking this?)
(Can you over-think such matters?)
The other thing that annoys the S-H-I-T out of Candy Ass about my beloved Channel 74 (check your local listings) is the commercial for some show called "Speeders." Now I've seen the commercial for the show like eleventy-billion times and I find it enormously funny, but the show itself? BORING. Granted, I've only watched the show for like two minutes, but some lady got a ticket, got a little misty-eyed and was on her way. HOWEVER. In the commercial for Speeders, there's cute girls flashing the cop as he grins ear-to-ear and my favorite part, this dude with a Southern accent and the proud (which, WTF?) recipient of a new speeding ticket joyfully boasts, "I can't driiiiiiive Fifffffty-Fiiive!" You fully expect homeboy to crush a beer can on his forehead right after saying this, but that would probably earn him a whole other set of misdemeanors. So to annoy Candy Ass, I like to walk around the house and randomly blurt out, "I can't driiiiiiive Fifffffty-Fiiive!" whenever it feels right.
And it feels right a lot.
Please, tell me this is normal.