Just so you know, when you Google image search for “normal,” the results return photos of fetuses in utero; on Flickr, it’s bicycles. Neither make sense, so I offer you a picture of boats I took 7 years ago. You’re welcome.
I am pleased to report that I am approaching near-normal amounts of sleep and experiencing diminished pain. As such, I decided to enjoy an evening of normalcy and sat on the couch with Brian watching Bridesmaids and eating Trader Joe’s Speculoos Cookie Butter AND I DIDN’T MOAN IN PAIN ONCE.
For those who manage to watch even without my input, some thoughts on last night’s Top Chef:
- I was somewhat unimpressed overall with the talent this season.
- With that being said, yay for Paul.
- I dislike Sarah and may have cackled when she got Tyler the Pre-Season Reject as a sous chef.
- Barbara Lynch looked she was really committed to helping Paul win. But she still scares me.
- The phrase “I’m going to jam out with my clam out” is the BEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD and I plan on saying it often.
- Fingers crossed that the next season sees a marked reduction in stupid crap like forcing cheftestants to ride bikes around town sourcing ingredients to cook for Pee-Wee Herman.
Some thoughts on other reality competition shows:
- America, you voted Heejun into the top 10, and not Reed Grimm? Shame on you.
- Kenley made the same dress she always makes and styled her model like Nicki Minaj. I am more over her than I ever have been before. Jerrell, please stop saying your designs are “ethnic.”
- I am thoroughly enjoying the contestant on Worst Chefs in America who thinks nuts go on anything, like pizza or mashed potatoes. You work that nut fetish.
And on non-competition reality shows:
- If I ever hoard to the point that I can do nothing but sit in the living room surrounded by gallon jugs of my own urine, you have my permission to just burn the damn house down.
Cooking will resume this weekend along with (I hope) a drastic reduction in my reality television consumption as I regain mobility and can move increasing distances from the sofa.
(If you would be so kind: could you throw TNS a vote over at Apartment Therapy’s Homie awards? A quick registration, and then your vote could help propel TNS past “beloved by dozens” to “beloved by a full gross.”)