A bitch’s allergies are out of control.
Let there be Winter on Earth and let it begin with Missouri!
A certain someone dropped by the office to deliver multitudes of Smarties to a bitch.
Happiness and joy!
Thanks and hugs.
This bitch will see you Sunday for smothered yumminess!
This bitch has received too many e-mails to count regarding Survivor - Little Rock 1957.
I don’t watch Survivor…I didn’t watch before…and a bitch shall not watch now.
Addictions come in many forms…and the addicted often find themselves participating in acts that they never dreamed of participating in. And so we have greed and the quest for faux fame. The fact that there are individuals willing to participate in a degrading spectacle does not absolve the event in any way shape or form.
At any given time someone, somewhere is willing to do the unthinkable for something.
A bitch finds it fascinating to observe from afar…the attempts to defend…the gleeful anticipation of racist groups…the scrambling of the network to make this not their problem…the arrogant disregard of some…the absolute shocked horror of others.
At a certain point the concern is no longer about the show or its participants...at that point it comes back to what we as individuals consider entertainment and what that says about us.
Survivor – Little Rock 1957 does not warrant deep study, but the ratings and public reaction will be another matter altogether.
Which makes me think of the poetry of Robert Frost…
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
Toodles until tomorrow…