It has been a week since I wrote last. Again, I’m on duty and in possession of the golf cart. Am somewhat nervous, but will remember to keep the keys on my person at all times. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…
In other news, has anyone else caught that new MTV show, Brandy: Special Delivery? Yeah. Probably not. Who wants to watch a show about a knocked up -wannabe - VH1 Diva? I think Brandy was like “hey I can’t perform on stage cause I’m all fat now. I know what I’ll do! I’ll have a reality show about the trials and tribulations of a childbirth.” Eww. Childbirth.
Hey Brandy, TLC called. They want their show back. Hello Lady! Ever heard of A Baby Story, and who hasn’t been visually assaulted by soggy, blooddrenched infants being ripped from their cursing mother’s womb during commercials for Labor and Delivery?
Baby’s alone are frightening - They’re like little aliens. They can’t talk. They can’t walk. And they smell weird. Their barf glows, they’re bald, and their heads are abnormally HUGE - so freakin’ huge compared to their little doll- bodies. Baby’s are creepy, so pair them visually with the nitty-gritty birthing biz and you have a recipe for the ultimate gross-out experience.
Hey I know how to reduce teen pregnancy - show Mrs. Brown passing her ten pound bundle of joy after 20 hours of sweaty, greasy, tissue-ripping, gut-wrenching, crapping-herself-publically labor. That would scare me if I was 13. Hell, I’m frightened right now just writing about it. Must stop now.
Anyway, the Brandy show wasn’t all gory - just totally lovey-dovey, like “look at me, I’m pregnant and I’m the greatest!” The only part of the show that I did enjoy came during a restaurant scene. I chuckled maliciously when Brandy, obviously in hormone overdrive, bitched out her husband for no apparent reason. Haha. Serves the bastard right for knocking her up in the first place.