You know the video of Susan Boyle singing on Britain’s Got Talent (doesn’t that title seem a teeny bit defensive? Who said you didn’t?) She comes on stage looking like a cafeteria lady dressed up for the Christmas party and then belts out a showstopper from Les Miserables. The audience and judges are humbled by their previous shallow derision of her; fat girls the world over swoon, at last they have an underdog turned hero. I actually liked the performance, not even I am that much of a curmudgeon, but I ask myself “Has this poor creature no gay friends, some poof with a pair of tweezers who could have pruned them eyebrows?”
My only cavil (aside from the shrubbery above her eyes) is that the whole affair invaded my dreams last night. I should mention the AIDS drug I take reacts with fat to cause long, vivid, odd dreams and we had heaps of leftover macaroni and cheese last night. Mac and cheese plus Atripla equal a night full of Technicolor.
So, the dream was that I was a judge on a reality show (yes, I was Simon Cowell, so maybe it was a nightmare) who would rate people’s decorating skills. An interesting twist was that I had to break into their homes to do so. My favorite part was hefting a giant red pipe wrench to bust open their windows to climb in and start dissing the couches. A Lady caught me in her bedroom and begged me not to vote her off the show, but darlings, those window treatments…. Oh dear.
Maybe I should skip the macaroni and cheese tonight.
My only cavil (aside from the shrubbery above her eyes) is that the whole affair invaded my dreams last night. I should mention the AIDS drug I take reacts with fat to cause long, vivid, odd dreams and we had heaps of leftover macaroni and cheese last night. Mac and cheese plus Atripla equal a night full of Technicolor.
So, the dream was that I was a judge on a reality show (yes, I was Simon Cowell, so maybe it was a nightmare) who would rate people’s decorating skills. An interesting twist was that I had to break into their homes to do so. My favorite part was hefting a giant red pipe wrench to bust open their windows to climb in and start dissing the couches. A Lady caught me in her bedroom and begged me not to vote her off the show, but darlings, those window treatments…. Oh dear.
Maybe I should skip the macaroni and cheese tonight.
I got sucked into that video and have watched it repeatedly, which is odd as I am at least as jaded as you, and don't usually go for such schlock. She does, however, have the voice of an angel. It was cool to see a moment so real, regardless of media manipulation.
ReplyDeleteAnd I don't doubt that she will be up to her brows in gays now!
This is an idea that NEEDS to be pitched to HGTV. Seriously!
ReplyDeleteIt's pretty genius. I know I'd be watching.
I say load up on the butter tonight and get cracking.
We could call it "America's Next Designer Survivor: the Bachelorette." David Bromstad could be my co-host in a sassy little thong. We can get Clay Aiken to be the Paula Abdul role.
ReplyDeleteI agree! This idea has to be pitched, it has to be greenlit and YOU have to be the star!!! Move over Tim Gunn!!!
ReplyDeleteWell, thank you very much Peenee. Weeping uncontrollably is just how I like to start my weekend.
ReplyDeleteShe is just the dearest thing going and I think a whole industry should now revolve around keeping her safe and unharmed by the vast basket of crazy that is undoubtedly already opening up around here after her minute in the spotlight...
Well, I, for one, am putting down my tweezers this instant as I'm convinced the Susan Boyle brow is the next big thing.
ReplyDeleteI absolutely KNEW Muscato would cry! Well, he wasn't the only one...
ReplyDeleteWhat an awesome dream! I dreamt I had a new black kitten and I was rubbing her tummy and she was loving it and I decided to name her Pandora.
ReplyDeleteI finally watched this video and it broke my cold, stoney heart a little.
ReplyDeleteAnd while her hair could use some gay love for a quick minute, her dress gets my approval.