Gooooood Mornin' Camden County!
Let me start off with American Idol. Because I was in tears last night watching a simpleman's show. Because of Nick Mitchell, for whom I actually broke down and texted in a vote. Watch why:
In the following, he prepares to go downstairs, fetch Precious and demand that Catherine Baker Martin -- daughter of U.S. Sen. Ruth Martin -- put the lotion in the basket so he can finish sewing his lady-flesh suit:
Well, I'm off today to the scene of the hit-and-run to start interviewing folks about a night (and couple days thereafter) I can't quite remember. But at least the day's starting out well. Like how Family Court found a high-as-a-kite 15-year-old guilty of a hit-and-run yesterday. Or how the economy's gotten so bad that the po-po say that Miss North Wildwood 2007 (quite an honor, too) was caught passing bogus fiddies.
And, couldn't get to this yesterday since I didn't read it till after Lost, which is the only show better than Eastbound and Down (if you didn't catch Kenny Powers this week, do. Because he trips on E at the middle-school dance after punching a dude in the face at a car-lot appearance), but the Inquirer's Bob Ford penned an excellent piece on lying liars:
Whoever was the source for the story made a liar out of Reid and the Eagles' organization, and made a liar out of Fletcher Smith, too. Made them look bad. Whoever was the source of the story did, however, make McNabb look pretty good. Made him look like a desk-pounding kind of guy who isn't going to sit idly by any longer. Give me a team or trade me.
The problem is, according to team sources, he did no such thing.
Now, which liars are we supposed to believe?
In the end, it doesn't really matter, because Donovan McNabb is going to quarterback the Eagles next season. If he or someone in his camp feels better about posturing in the media in the interim, I guess that's fine. If the team doesn't want to appear backed into a corner by one of its employees, that's fine, too.
Wading through a swamp of anonymous leaks and denials is a fun way to spend February.
Gleaned some gems from Entertainment Weekly this week, too. (Hey, don't judge. It's a wonder I can read or write less than three months later. Word.) Like:
-- Twenty-seven minutes of Sopranos' cussin'.
-- Borat's wife Isla talks about the looming I-can't-f'in-wait-for Bruno movie.
-- And, Watchmen seems like the type of movie I'll shell out $13 for. Even if it's based on a comic book.