I (Don't) Want My MTV

Hi! My name is BWP and I blog right over here, where I showcase my enthusiasm for four lettered words and write about things like hating my desk job with the fire of a thousand suns, my failed attempts at "health" and "well-being", and libation-influenced decisions that I wouldn't want my mother knowing about.

When Susannah e-mailed me about guest-blogging while she was gallivanting around with monkeys under palm trees made of dreams (at least I think that's what goes down in Costa Rica), my first thought was "this is spam" and my second thought was "okay, this is very witty and well-thought out spam". It was just hard for me to believe that a blogger as talented as Susannah would trust me, a girl who recently wrote an entry about vomiting all over herself, with her lovely blog.

I'm not the first to say it and I won't be the last, but keeping this blog warm and cozy in her absence is pretty intimidating. For this reason, I am channeling Mitch Hedberg and writing this entire post with sunglasses on and eyes closed. It helps with the stage fright. Well, that and the booze.

Okay, so there are more reasons for donning shades aside from my fear of, how you say, "fucking shit up". I had surgery on my eye this past Friday and it has left me looking more like Sloth from Goonies than a raw and sexual Christina Ricci in Black Snake Moan like I had originally hoped. For this reason, I chose to spend my Memorial Day weekend in hiding - drinking heavily in bed while watching bad TV, only looking up from my wine glass to occasionally instruct my boyfriend on the best technique for fanning me with banana leaves.

I'm a fan of TV (and never really believe those lost souls who claim to "not watch it") but for the love of Tivo I have never spent so much consecutive time in front of a TV before. I've really been missing out on some important life knowledge. I'd like to share with you some of what I've gained. Well, other than the five pounds of pizza I inhaled for dinner.

I always look this happy when I'm watching TV.

- If you read on a 6th grade level and have an STD, or look like you will contract one in the near future, you will get a show and it will be about you finding "love". And by "love" I mean someone to share your syphilis with.

- Women love yogurt.

- If someone has nice hair and/or nice shoes, I will be more inclined to care about their lives no matter how vacuous and downright pointless they are. It never fucking fails!

- Lifetime isn't just for lonely and menopausal women anymore. I know this because I am too young for menopause and only lonely 70 percent of the time, yet found myself going back to that channel over and over. I watched almost every episode of both Reba and Still Standing ever to have been on air.

That Reba! She's so sassy!

- As a woman, I'm apparently supposed to be extremely involved in housework despite the fact that it isn't 1932 anymore. I had no idea! All this time I had the four life stages of a fly accumulating in my kitchen while I was busy doing other things like update my Twitter and play air guitar to Jimi Hendrix.

Mops! They fight for my love!

- MTV has nothing to do with music anymore and everything to do with hot tubs, drunken fights over telephone usage, and footage to guarantee you reach your life goal of never having a real job.

- And last but certainly not least, instead of chasing Xanax with a bottle of Pinot Noir, I could have just been taking more Midol. The bitches on Midol commercials are having the BEST. TIME. EVER.

It's so awesome that my vagina is making me crazy!

Well, there you have it, my little cacaweewahs. If anything, my intimate weekend with TV just showed me that I really need to make some life changes if I ever want to be hip and cool and a functioning member of society. It's time I get to swifferin' and sexin', pop a Midol and eat some Yoplait yogurt. Sigh. I've wasted so much time doing stuff like "reading".

Now, who wants to meet me in the hot tub?