day 28: guilty pleasures I
Good thing NaBloPoMo is ending soon.. I’m extracting every last bit of information from my mind and will have to resort to discussing my jail time or oozing sores in order to create Uncomfortable Revelation Number Kajillion involves the guilty pleasure, the person/place/thing that you feel a little cringy about liking, that gives you a little shiver of I should be better than this.
I do invite you to join in on this one, my crispy and delicious readers!
America’s Funniest Home Videos. I love it, always have. The funny animals and/or babies absolutely slay me. The endless crotch shots and head injuries I dislike, but everything else: solid gold. I laugh out loud, every time. The current host and writing borders on the surreal. You must experience the “video vs. video” segment (“Kangaroos vs. Googly-Eyed Goldfish!”) to believe it.
Stupid rock radio stations. During the summertime, I make it a point to lower my IQ by as many points possible by listening to the most inane, “classic” rawk possible. And I sing along! Speaking of which:
Van Halen (David Lee Roth era). When I was in my early 20s and a pathetically hip art student/scenester, it was a cardinal sin to admit to enjoying anything, let alone what was considered the ultimate of awful arena rock: the mighty Van Halen. Oh, but I did. I loved the song Panama so much, I would obsessively scan the airwaves for it (as I would never create evidence by buying the single). To this day, a very good summer afternoon is finding a ‘Halen Rock Block on the Octopus, 95.9 FM.
Lindsay Wagner. I’ve always thought she was lovely and intelligent and I am drawn to her, all crush-like. Public revelations of her dyslexia only made her more human and intriguingly complicated to me. I am happy when her Sleep Number Bed commercial comes on — I feel like I’m checking up on her, making sure she’s okay. Is that weird? Please, Lindsay, I’m not a stalker and have no interest in meeting you in person.
Low Rider Magazine. I have to buy it a couple times a year. Reading it makes me feel like my nose is pressed up against the window of the most fun, glittery, crazy, dangerous, stylish, kooky candy store in the world.
Lima beans. With butter, in a coffee cup. They must be purchased frozen, then cooked on a stovetop. They must be eaten with a spoon while standing up. This desire overtakes me every few years. Can possibly be genetically traced to (fun fact) my Ventura County forefathers being lima bean farmers.
Tomorrow: More tidbits that will surprise and probably disgust you.
Flickr photo: TV Board Games: The Bionic Woman, originally uploaded by o2b. Thanks for letting me use it!
I can’t believe no one has admitted their guilty pleasures after reading this excellently juicy post. Perhaps it’s because your guilty pleasures are so interesting… I can’t think of anything that compares with microwaved lima beans with butter in a mug.
Or can I? This may fall into food predilections but here’s one: angel hair pasta (al dente), butter, salted peanuts and extra salt. Yum yum.
I’m also a sucker for candy corn and had to go out searching for it this halloween – not for trick-or-treaters. Oh no. That candy corn was all for meeeee!
Dagda, the lima beans are heated on a stovetop, NOT microwaved. Are you trying to kill me?
I heard a radio show recently where a Canadian revealed they have Halloween, but they don’t have candy corn. Suddenly, Canada doesn’t seem like the glorious utopia any more.