Guilty as Charged
Hello, and welcome to All Filler, No Killer Thursday. This is traditionally the day of the week [day subject to change] when I realize Iíve shot my load writing-wise and my mind refuses to come up with another novel-length discourse on whatever the Subject of the Week is. I am nothing if not single minded. When I get on a soap box, I stay up there until someone threatens to burn the box beneath me. So, that being said, today is filler day. Unless another soap box opportunity presents itself.
Today, in honor of a conversation I had with someone last week about a certain sappy 70's band that no one admits to liking but which I do below, we are going to discuss Guilty Pleasures.
Ok, so I enjoy listening to Air Supply once in a while. The lyrics are so endearing, the sentiment so sickly sweet, that you canít help but sing along in faux earnest. Do I feel guilty about this sometimes? Yes. Iíve never quite been able to work up the courage to sing ďAll Out of LoveĒ in a public venue yet. Then again, I never sing in public anyhow. Unless drunk and encouraged by dollar bills.
Guilty Pleasures come in all varieties. Movies? I own Princess Diaries on DVD. Television? Iíve been known to spend an entire Saturday watching a marathon of Lifetime movies, hours upon hours of Women in Jeopardy, starring Meredith Baxter Birney or some 90210 has-been or John Stamos.
Oh, why donít I just admit to them all right here and now? Iíll cleanse my soul and feel so good and pure about myself that it wonít even matter when everyone starts making fun of me.
So Iíll admit that I love Elvis sandwiches. Europeís Final Countdown. Motley Crueís Home Sweet Home. Pikachu. Justin Timberlake. Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica. Howard Stern. Cops. True crime documentaries. Weekly World News. Sabado Gigante. Eating hot fudge out of the jar with a spoon. Little House on the Prairie. Cream soda with milk. Match Game. Commenting on Fark. Infomercials. Hockey fights. Canada.
Iíll stop there and let you go on. Donít be afraid. I didnít set the bar too high, did I?