Entertainment entertainment entertainment
TV & Movies | July 28, 2010
I love Wednesdays. So much. During the summer, that is, when I can afford to mark days on my calendar with: “Work some. Noodles&Co for lunch. Catch up on TV. Try to do some productive writing. Lounge around and increase adipose cell count.”
You know why the middle of the week is really great? Both Make It or Break It and Pretty Little Liars air Tuesday nights. And Lie to Me episodes air Monday night.
That’s right, almost three straight hours of delicious mindless entertainment. Now, you might think that I could have spent that time on more delicious and productive activities, like, I don’t know, eating ten pizzas, or competing in a hot-dog-eating contest, or building a meth lab in my basement (if you work in law enforcement, I’m kidding; if you’re not law enforcement, I’m also kidding).
Oh, and if you’re wondering why I disregard TV show time shots despite my Mt.-Everest-sized pile of free time, it’s ’cause my family still has not switched to digital TV. It’s okay, though; I don’t watch much TV anyway. I only watch bad TV online. I also like teetering on the extreme ends of life’s seesaw, so when it comes to TV, it’s marathons then months of nothing.
Okay, so here’s what I have to say (no spoilers):
Make It or Break It: I. love. Lauren. I get it, no one else agrees, but despite whatever bitch moves she pulls, and despite whatever the writers do to make Kaylie and Emily look like perfect little deserving angels, Lauren’s the best character by far. Her shenanigans entertain me to no end, and her vulnerabilities make me love her. I mean, sure, I wouldn’t be her friend, but you probably shouldn’t be watching TV if all you’re doing is looking for a good friend in one of the characters.
Basically, I agree with what I said when the show first came on. Except Kaylie and Payson are combining more and more into the same person (but I like Payson more), and Emily and her tacky mother have only grown leaps and bounds and roundoffs more obnoxious.
Pretty Little Liars: I don’t really love any of the characters. The pop culture references make me cringe. Every episode seems to follow the same tired formula. I feel like the whole suspense behind “A” could be done better. Somehow, though, all of this makes for an entertaining show, or maybe just an entertaining summer guilty pleasure. It’s like, it’s so bad and so good at the same time that I can’t even tell the difference anymore.
Lie to Me: A few weeks ago, I was completely addicted. I watched an episode or two nearly every day. I couldn’t stop talking about the show, and I couldn’t stop thinking about truth and lies and deception. I don’t know what happened exactly; I’m still not caught up on the show, but now I can’t even watch an entire episode without pausing to do productive things, like maybe the aforementioned pizza binges and hot-dog-eating contests.
The Everyone-Resembles-Tim-Roth Syndrome that I contracted hasn’t subsided, though. Sharlto Copley? Looks like Tim Roth. Dierks Bentley? Looks like Tim Roth. Eminem? Looks like Tim Roth. Paris Hilton? LOOKS LIKE TIM ROTH.
Banana pancakes
Food, Music, Photos | July 25, 2010
The Food
Breakfast yesterday morning, inspired by Jack Johnson. Om nom nom nom.
The Song
Jack Johnson is better live than on his album, in my opinion. I used to think his music only appealed to surfers or people who lie in a hammock drinking coconut juice and getting high in Hawaii — I own neither a surfboard nor a hammock, and I’ve never been to Hawaii — but I’m glad to be proven wrong.
The Phrase
I feel like “banana pancakes” could easily become the most versatile phrase in the English language.
Insult: Your face looks like soggy banana pancakes.
Interjection: Banana pancakes! Or: Holy banana pancakes! (Use it in any situation, from stubbing your toe to falling off your unicycle to winning a thousand million billion dollars to finding out your new boyfriend is actually a 43-year-old hermaphrodite who collects moldy sandwiches — which, no no no, I’m not saying from personal experience. Don’t get the wrong idea.)
Indignation: What the banana pancakes is wrong with you?!
Inquiry: Banana pancakes? (Use as a substitute for “What?” or “Wtf?” or “Capisce?” or maybe even “Would you like a hot dog?” except the last one might confuse people.)
Intensification: That dress is banana pancakes gorgeous. Or: It’s raining banana pancakes.
See? Banana pancakes useful! Now you’re banana pancakes smarter.
Meg makes flatbread, destroys kitchen
Food, Photos | July 22, 2010
Half of that title is a lie. Guess which part’s true? No, not the second half. Wow, I’m glad you have so much faith in me and my cooking abilities. Truth be told, I only added the latter part to lure in all you visitors who hold intense sentiments of schadenfreude and would die to see me blow up my kitchen. If you’re one of those people, you can stop reading now.
Still here? That first paragraph was obviously not a filler for the better introduction that I can’t write…obviously. I don’t use such plebeian tactics. Or maybe the title and intro are brilliant, since I got you reading, didn’t I? And no, I am not a liar. Or a crook. Or Richard Nixon. I’m only temporarily trying out the effectiveness of false advertising.
Still here? You get two different recipes and pictures of the flatbread-making process as a reward (see, reading is good! I’m encouraging literacy!):
