Idol Hands...

I knew undies would generate readership. Plus, I can only imagine the hits I'm gonna get from the Claymates and Clayters (get it? Caly haters...eh? eh? Ah forget it) or people looking to glimpse Colin Farrell's Irish Schwing. Anyhow, posting about my coming weekend (non) plans made me look forward to them and carried me through the hecticness that was today. Remember how I said that I was oddly unaffected by my work stresses? Today I hit the wall. Not literally, of course, although there was a close call. Of course by the end of the day I was in a better mood. My trick? Every time I felt a little down, I went to my happy place: The 1st Official Undies Weekend of '06.

And I did a little practicing tonight. Rather than go to the gym (my butt's still sore from last night's Torture Session Pilates class), I heated some frozen chicken strips, poured a glass of cream soda, plunked down on the couch and watched some bad horror flicks. First up: the last twenty minutes of The Grudge. Now I loves me some Buffy, so I can't be too hard on dear old Sarah Michelle Gellar. Despite a crappy story and near lack of suspense, she sold the scared act. And I have a long-standing crush on Jason Behr, so ugly long hair or not, I watched faithfully. I don't exactly want those twenty minutes back, but I won't be tuning in to the rest of the movie next time I catch it on cable, either.

Next up: Showtime's craptastic new series Masters Of Horror., courtesy of my cable's OnDemand function. Masters? Hardly. The "plot" passed as this: two urban legends (killer hitchiker and guy who kills innocent hitchikers) kill a bunch of people separately before meeting up with Fairuza Balk and then lamely fighting over who gets to kill her, but never actually get to it. If I suffer through Fairuza Balk's overbite, then I expected to be rewarded with her on-screen death. That chick's just gotten freakier since Return To Oz first traumatized me.

Then it was onto a little of Boogeyman, starring that 40 year old who plays the eldest child on 7th Heaven. I didn't get through much of it, but I suspect if I'd finished it, I'd have been disappointed by the lack of blood. Basically, I think it'll be like the WB's Supernatural - poorly written and acted, not all that scary, plenty low-budget and totally lacking of shirtless guys worth looking act. I'll keep y'all updated on that one.

(And yes, I do realize how very WB my viewing habits were tonight.)

Perhaps the scariest thing on the schedule was the American Idol results show. I'll admit to not having watched since season 1 (I was pretty much done when they voted off Tamyra Gray) but I do come back for the hilarious auditions each season. But since I watched the godawful show on Tuesday, I had to see who got kicked off. Spoilers ahead for those of you who care: The Amazon was voted off, as was Michael from Good Times. John Mayer Jr. and Noxeema Jackson didn't make the cut, either. Each of them got one last chance to trash a song on national television before their exit. Still safe: someone's parish priest, a perfect clone of last year's winner, a Bizarro clone of last year's runner-up, and this evil Harry Potter kid who I'm convinced will kill everyone before the show's over (part of the reason I'll keep tuning in, actually). Least annoying to me: Mandisa (I like her mostly cause she looks like she doesn't get along with the other contestants), Ace (a little too much of a pretty Scott Stapp for my taste, but I can see the appeal) and Chris. Mostly, I just like looking at that last one.

Scary viewing, indeed. Not only because it doesn't even come close to being listenable karaoke by my high-falutin' standards, but because I watched the whole freakin' thing! OK, not exactly - I flipped over to Boomerang and watched a little He-Man during the farewell performances. But I still stayed until they threatened to suck me into The O.C. I know I would have been stuck once I got a taste of male shirtlessness, so I turned the set off.

Besides, like I said before, I'm sure I'd just have been disappointed by the lack of blood.

Until next time,
-J.

This post was sponsored by the What's Lazier - watching TV mindlessly or writing about it? Committee