Wifey watches these “Real Housewives of New Jersey” shows, so I tried watching a few episodes with her. And after taking in a few hours worth of that useless pap, I’ve decided that I’d rather arm wrestle the governor of Caulifornia than suffer any more.
I guess I’m the oddball because I really don’t see the need for more than a dozen or so television networks. She’s got her satellite dish and her 5,000 plus channels, but there’s rarely anything worth watching.
If any one of our state representatives (no matter how loathsome) championed an ala carte cable bill that actually passed into being law, I’d vote them in for life and offer myself in servitude.
Here’s my must-have list right off of the top of my pointy little head:
3. FOX (WOLF or whatever the frig they call it now)
5. FOX News
6. History Channel
7. Military Channel
8. Discovery I.D.
9. Any channel that televises the New York Football Giants
10. Any channel that televises COPS
12. NFL Network
And my ala carte cable bill would top out below 20 bucks a month, like in those more progressive states we usually look down our noses at.
Uh, any of you legislature types up for doing the right thing for your constituents just this once? There it is, bucky. Ala carte cable.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled sanity.
As for the Real Housewives claptrap, I might become a regular viewer if and when they produce The Real Housewives of Luzerne County. Hell, I’d volunteer to write for that series.
I’m picturing a group of babushka-clad middle-aged women huddled together at the St. Nick’s bazaar talking smack on some relatively attractive woman in the same age group tossing darts at colored balloons.
And what, pray tell, is their beef with her? Why the mean-spirited gossip and snickering? Is it because she’s married to a high-profile politico and all of her children have county ghost jobs? No.
Is it because said woman is not also afflicted with sagging boobs and a sagging caboose despite her advanced age? No.
Is it all over her weekend talk show on WILK in which she makes with the high and mighty sophisticate bit? No.
Perhaps it’s the matching BMW convertibles her and her hubby zoom around town in as if they haven’t a care in the world? No.
What’s got the real housewives in these here parts showing major claws and fangs is the fact that wonder woman herself won the blue ribbon in the St. Nick’s potato pancake cook-off three years running.
What a total bitch!
Kayak Dude tells me that cemeteries are now fair game for the invading gas drillers. No, I ain’t making that up. Go to his site and follow the link. Is nothing sacred anymore in the never-ending pursuit of the almighty dollar?
Did I say dollar? A moment of silence.
Feeling all reverent now?
Speaking of KD, I will be joining him on his trek to Gas Stock on Saturday morning, and before the Sun comes up no less.
Anyway, we’ll be walking from Nesbitt Park to the Luzerne County Fairgrounds, 13 miles by his calculations. I could do that walking backwards, but why show off, right?
He’s making this Trail of Tears-styled journey to raise both funding and awareness as the battle for our water supply rages on. I followed his link to the Trail of Tears story and found it to be educational, and quite frankly, shocking.
I knew many tribes of Native Americans were screwed over every which way. But I never knew that thousands upon thousands of them were literally marched to their deaths at gunpoint. In my mind, the descendants of these people should be at the top of any proposed reparation lists. Not that it matters none too much now.
Funny, though. There was not a single mention of Chief Muckamucka and the Muckaqoui Nation from out back of Sorber Mountain way. So I’m left to assume that the-then U.S. Army knew when it was facing an obstacle too formidable to move. I figure.
As far the trek on Saturday goes, I’d invite all of our fellow bloggers to come and tag along, but we really need to arrive on scene before the end of August.
KD made some mention of some film crew documenting the day’s walk, and I’m not sure what the latest is on any of that. I’m not going along to steal any thunder or to pretend that this is a two-man protest.
I’m going because he’s my friend, and because he’s my occasional partner in protest crime. And there is that other reason. The most important reason. The reason being, he proved that one man could derail a long-term congressman’s misguided pet project. And I proved that one acerbic jerk sitting in his mommy’s basement in his skivvies could help to derail an out-of-control mayor.
The thing is, you’ll never really know what you can accomplish unless you up and try, unless you up and get involved. As I so frequently quote, the only limit to your ability is your imagination.
And if he’s going, I’ll be damned before I see him go alone.
Damn the inattentive drivers. Full speed ahead!