It was midnight on a Saturday and I was sprawled in bed with The Kr8z and a box of Gingersnaps. After working a long but fulfilling day that started at 7:30 a.m. I had the mental capacity of an amoeba. I watched the last ½ hour of Erin Brockovich and a tear slid down my cheek during the denouement. I don’t know if this lone tear was from exhaustion or the story of this powerful kick-ass woman. Either way I was touched. And then, the energy of the airwaves went ballistic.
I couldn’t find the remote (I think So-kr8z must have been sleeping on it as he’s wont to do) so I was torn asunder from my sentimentality and watched in utter horror as a show called Wife-Swap came on. *Show of hands* — Have y’all ever watched this show? Wow. I felt like I was watching a platypus give birth to a micro piglet in a tub filled with orange Jell-O. I. Just. Couldn’t. Look. Away. Read more