Currently, I only have 5 unfinished reviews in my drafts, which is pretty great. That does not count all the reviews I discarded in a fit of rage, but who's counting? I've swept the floor, trimmed the dog's toenails, made some soup, well, probably not in that order, but you get the idea. All of these things have been done to keep me from finishing any of those reviews.
Instead, I'm going to knock out this brief review of the television program The Supersizers Go.
Actually, what I'm going to do first is complain about my upcoming trip to Hollywood. Now, don't get excited. It's a stupid business trip, and under no circumstances do I want to go. I'm going to be trapped in all sorts of meetings and conferences from sun-up to sundown, and it's going to be an enormous drag.
To make matters worse, I'm going to be right there on Hollywood Boulevard, trapped in a corporate meeting, forced to eat an inane cheese sandwich, which I was absurdly demanded I order nearly two weeks in advance, and it's not going to be any fun whatsoever. The genius who thought up the idea to proactively order lunch obviously has no idea who they're dealing with. I have the attention span of a gnat, so expect me to change my mind fourteen times on what I want to eat for lunch. I should never have ordered a cheese sandwich. I really should have ordered something else. I was sent a picture-less menu in advance with a deadline. I had a week to think about it. Obviously, I decided at the last moment in a panic, and now I'm filled with cheesy regrets. Why couldn't we have ordered when we arrived? Is this not the Internet Age? Why was this a huge deal? My mind is in a spin. I haven't even had this sandwich yet, and I'm positively sick of it. I'm going to have to blink at people in a corporate setting while eating a soggy cheese sandwich I started hating more than 13 days ago. I have no control over my life.
The sandwich isn't important right now.
Because I'm very sensible, I've prepared for my trip by purchasing outlandish footwear and 80s gothic t-shirts, because I've been told I have to dress business casual and wear a button-down shirt, and I have to wear comfortable shoes, and no one tells me what to wear, and no one tells me to be comfortable. I've never been comfortable in my life, and I'm not starting now. Shoes aren't meant to be comfortable, they're supposed to startle and confuse people, well, at least the pairs I always buy.
I'm going to do business like I always do business, which I suppose means I'm going to be disturbing, alarming, and disruptive, and I'll be doing team building exercises looking like a bearded Nick Cave.
Yes, let's do that trust fall. I'll totally catch you. Don't I look trustworthy?
Because I'm me, I'll probably stage a mutiny during those team building exercises, and drag everyone down to see William Shatner's star on the Walk Of Fame just to be a jerk and to walk off the bloat of that cheese sandwich. I have zero tolerance for corporately mandated fun, and as Groucho Marx said, 'I wouldn't want to be a member of a team that would involve any sort of team building', although I might be paraphrasing, but that's not really what we should be focusing on. I'm going on a really lame trip, and it's going to be tedious and awful unless I do something drastic and cheesy and mutinous. So if I have to go, I'm going all out. But I'd really rather not go.
Speaking of going, let's get back to The Supersizers Go. Sue from The Great British Bake Off relives moments of British history through its food and clothing, and it's absolutely hysterical. Medieval, Restoration, Edwardian, and even the Eighties, are all experienced through period dishes and fashion, and many animals are eaten, and several are sewn together to create entirely new ones, which is ghastly.
The Medieval version of a Turducken.