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enduring weeks of grease songs and a deftly planned revenge.

in what has seemed to be a relatively painless 11 weeks, i am relieved to say that nbc has finally finished running grease: you're the one that i want by naming this emo kid as the new "danny" in the something something muscle cars classic musical. while my subject line reveals this barrage of broadwayified sunday evenings as some sort of torture, i must say that i have escaped the throes of yet another reality show miraculously unharmed. you may ask why i have been watching such tripe (or maybe not if you've been paying attention) and while it may feel like yet another defense of my idiotic pop culture absorption habit, i must once again blame my illustrious girlfriend and roommate jerksica. but i only mention it this time around because it's actually pertinent to the remainder of this post. no, really. read on...

you're the one that i want: so jerksica loves broadway. ever since she was a little girl, she has admired such groundbreaking thespians as bernadette peters. you laugh now, but i prepare for a beating later tonight when she reads this. but seriously, sure it's dorky, but it's something she loves and for a long time, had a grand dream of becoming a famous actress. so of course this show has a large amount of appeal for her. so every week, while i'm grading piles and piles of mediocre middle school poetry, she's transfixed by a bunch of doofi (plural for doofus?) running around and singing and dancing, pretending they're john travolta and olivia newton-john. (pauses). just going back and re-reading this, it seems weird how i didn't want to stab myself in the ribs every sunday night. and then it hits me. luckily for me, my girlfriend is a bitter realist. if it wasn't for her jaded intelligence that kicked in every 5 minutes to rag on an untalented contestant or to laugh at how everyone's personal story is exactly the same ("i was picked on, and i had a dream to be a star, and now i'm here!"), i would have indeed have some bloody ribs. in short, if it weren't for her presence, i would have no excuse for watching this malarky (even though i probably would have anyway) and would probably cry myself to sleep every sunday.

on the lot: but the dirtbag inside me wants to still blame the last 11 sundays on her (lovingly of course!). oh what's this? nbc is now going to start a practically identical show except with amateur filmmakers instead of amateur musical actors and actresses? funnily enough, this was indeed my dorky dream growing up a tiny emo kid (after my cartoonist aspirations fizzled out) that was picked on, wanted to be a star, and now i'm here! - watching a show about dorky post-kids who were picked on, wanted to be a star, and now their short films are being judged/voted on by america. so for what will probably be another 11 weeks, jerksica will have to endure two alternating versions of myself just like i did for her: eyes glazed over, semi-wishing i was one of the contestants, AND constantly making fun of a bunch of pretentious egotistical megalomaniacs who don't know how to hold a conversation with a human being and have never asked a girl out. oh and yeah and one of those stupid idiots will get some kind of amazing production/distribution deal for their first full-length feature from dawson's hero, steven spielbergo. hopefully i can make this 11-week process at least a fraction as bearable for jerksica as she made her 11 weeks of grease: you're the one that i want for me.

p.s. saw reign over me. actual grade: C- and not just because i want to show off my ability to predict my own ratings. it's actually the grade i would give it! honest! ok i can stop blogging about this movie now. promise!

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  1. Blogger Patrick | 10:02 PM |  

    Big ups for the use of the word "doofus". I hear it's making a big comeback.

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