I took a sick day today. I slept through the hour that has been my favorite sick day activity since I was eleven: watching The Price Is Right. Darn! Instead I confirmed a suspision that I’ve always had about us not missing anything important on television while we’re at work. Here are three things I watched.
1) I watched a portion of Tyra Banks’ talk show in which she was interviewing legal prostitutes from The Bunny Ranch in Nevada. You would think I could watch this for hours, but Tyra somehow managed to make hookers boring. I couldn’t help but think that the only difference between these girls and Tyra is that she is slightly prettier. I’m pretty sure that any one of these hookers could catch up to her level of interviewing skills in a matter of minutes. The picture I used was from a show in which Tyra put the rumors about her breasts being fake to bed by having a live sonogram! The uncertainty was keeping me up at night, so I’m glad that’s resolved once and for all.
2) I then watched a few Michael Jackson videos. He was a good-looking guy, remember? What in God’s name did he do to his face? What surgeon went through with those wacked-out surgeries? Wouldn’t he/she be like, “Yeah, Mike, we could make you look really goofy like that, but maybe God put cartilage in our noses for a reason. You know, so our noses don’t look like a deflated balloon. Um, yeah, we could make your face look like a Michael Myers mask from the movie Halloween pulled back way too tight, but let me show you a few of our more subtle alterations . . . ?” Didn’t he have friends to talk him out of that stuff? I wonder if he was showing photos to his buddies, and being like, “Yeah, in just two weeks I’ll look like THIS?” Maybe when your friends are Elizabeth Taylor, Emanuel Lewis (TV’s Webster), and Bubbles the chimp, who I heard he stabbed routinely with a pen or something, perhaps one needs more rational friends. Where was the ever-level-headed Tito when these decisions were being made? That was a perfect opportunity for him to throw his weight around (see photo).
3) Right when I was about to put my sloppy joe away and go back to bed, I heard an intriguing song on BET. The close ups revealed that it was a new Prince song called Black Sweat, in which he says “workin’ up a black sweat.” God, that’s a great chorus! The song and video were overtly sexual, like "Get Off" or "Pussy Control," but it was very much with the times while staying true to his James Brown and Sly inspired funk/R&B roots. I immediately downloaded it, legally of course.
Well, tomorrow I’ll be back at the old salt mine, my dad would say, so Tyra, the hookers, Michael, Tito, Bubbles, and TAFKAP (The Artist Formerly Known as Prince) will have to get by without me.