Not Again

Everybody (I would assume) has some sort of secret (or guilty) pleasure. It’s that one thing you know you probably shouldn’t do. It’s that one thing you generally don’t tell anyone about. And if someone ever did find out about it, you’d have to come up with some sort of excuse to explain it away, if not outright playing the “you see, I have this friend…” card.

It’s also the kind of thing that if someone else ever did find out, they probably wouldn’t care at all. After all, with six billion people on the planet, who really cares if you hide bags of M&Ms around the house. Because, let’s face it, you really wouldn’t care if you suddenly found out John Smith of Anytown, USA enjoys eating popsicles in his underwear before bed. Unless you also suddenly found out that John Smith was your spouse. Then you might be … concerned.

But so what! Today’s the day we let it all out. We free ourselves of guilt and of secrecy. We lift a great weight from our chest. We get up out of our chairs, go to our windows, and shout out, “I’m as freaky as hell, and I’m not gonna hide it anymore!”

Or something like that.

Since this is my blog, I’ll start. I like…

I like…

Dang it. I can’t do this. I’m closing my window and sitting back down in my chair. No, no. I said we were going to air our laundry today. I must follow through. Here goes. Take a deep breath, Charlie. Three… two… one… “I like watching American Idol.”

There. I said it. I know it’s wrong. I admit I’m not proud of it, but I can’t deny it. I keep on watching. (And that’s saying a lot, considering my normal weekly television viewing time totals about seventeen minutes.) It’s not that I outright hate TV, but I just have so many other things to do. My brain must constantly be producing something, and television simply doesn’t fulfill this need. If I sit there for more than ten minutes, my mind is overwhelmed with thoughts of everything else I’m not doing.

So it’s the middle of January. Again. And another season of American Idol has begun. Again. And all I can do is shake my head and say, “Not again.” I really don’t need this. Again.

Any other fans out there? Or anyone else in the don’t-want-to-admit-it boat? How about those other guilty pleasures you want to get off your chest? Come on! I know you late-night underwear-wearing, popsicle-eating folks are lurking out there! Talk to us!

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23 Responses to “Not Again”

  1. Tony Cannon said
    on
    January 14, 2009 at 1:50 pm