Toe Hunger.
They lie in wait, like beasts you see on Discovery Channel violence programming, waiting to bite a toe. I live in fear of the toe hunger.
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They lie in wait, like beasts you see on Discovery Channel violence programming, waiting to bite a toe. I live in fear of the toe hunger.
I admit it. I am flawed.
I like American Idol. I have since the first season. I may like it more now than I did then. I can only conclude that my taste is degenerative. In my defense, it's simply so, so hard to hate.
For example, after Kellie Pickler closed the show with the final performance of the night, Simon paid her a compliment by saying America simply couldn't not like her because she was a 'foxy minx'. Kellie blink-blinked her country girl eyes and smiled in confusion. When it was obvious she had no clue what to make of the compliment, Simon explained that a 'foxy minx' was like a 'bad good girl'. She giggled like an infant drunk on moonshine and moved on the next question...
Resident Bobble-bot Ryan Seacrest asked what new foods she tried this week and she gleefully replied "Sal. Mon." Only a true hillybilly southern girl could be so earnest in her pronunciation. You could literally feel educators around the world mouthing to the TV "...did she just slice salmon into two words?"
The theme music comes up to close the show, the credits start to roll, and when I thought it could get no better, you hear Kellie yell out in high pitched excitement...
"Woohoo... I'm a mink!"
AI is simply so, so hard to hate.