Guilty Pleasures, etc.

For some, it's chocolate. Others, expensive clothing. Still others, BDSM. Everyone has 'em. Mine is a little thing called "The Soup."

Yes, readers, I love the show "The Soup" on E!. I know, it seems to run against my policy of finding the comings and goings of celebrities revolting and utterly petty, but I cannot help myself. The show--despite the fact that it discusses things that I abhor with every fiber of my being (and if you know me, that's a lot of fibers!)--is brilliantly zany and enthralling. Despite being a decidedly B- to C-list comedian, Joel McHale delivers silly and offbeat jokes with a kind of panache that makes them not only palatable, but enjoyable. Segments such as "Oprah's Va-jay-jay," "Let's Take Some E," and the "Kickass Clip of the Week" contain just the right mix of satire and bizarro celebrity behavior to divert one's attention from serious, worthwhile matters, if only for a brief, savory half hour.

~~~

In other news, I am about to shed my status as a "high school student," though that title in reference to me really deserves an asterisk (I have hardly behaved like a normal high school student, as you will soon see). In a brief eight days, I will cry like a little baby at Commencement, knowing that my days of sleeping on my cushy featherbed at home are numbered not in the hundreds, but in the dozens.

~~~

In still other news, I will be attending my first proper party the day after Commencement. I am both extremely excited and apprehensive about the experience. I am excited because I am eager to learn what such gatherings are like (I don't get out much, if you have not already caught on). I am quite apprehensive, however, because being the Class Dad, I have always stayed on the path of lawfulness and righteousness. I don't intend to become inebriated (I prefer to spend my evenings lucid), but I have a sneaking suspicion that some people are curious as to what an inebriated Gavrich would be like. I don't know if I want to know that myself. Ah well. It shall be interesting, regardless.

Tonights lyrical selection: "Streams of Whiskey," by The Pogues

"Last night as I slept
I dreamt I met with Behan
I shook him by the hand and we passed the time of day
When questioned on his views
On the crux of life's philosophies
He had but these few clear and simple words to say

I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing

I have cursed, bled and sworn
Jumped bail and landed up in jail
Life has often tried to stretch me
But the rope always was slack
And now that Ive a pile
Ill go down to the chelsea
Ill walk in on my feet
But Ill leave there on my back

Because I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing

Oh the words that he spoke
Seemed the wisest of philosophies
There's nothing ever gained
By a wet thing called a tear
When the world is too dark
And I need the light inside of me
Ill walk into a bar
And drink fifteen pints of beer

I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing

I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing
Where streams of whiskey are flowing
Where streams of whiskey are flowing."