The Shit-Kicker Channel redeems itself

I never thought I'd have any reason to tune in to CMT, Country Music Television, but times have changed. So fearful was I, in fact, that I might inadvertently tune in for a millisecond, that I went into my TV settings and "hid" that channel so that it wouldn't even appear in my on-screen guide. But recently I've had to unhide it so that I can watch the following shows:

Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making The Team

Superhot 19-year-olds in teeny-weeny shorts bounce up and down for 30 minutes, with commercial breaks. Sometimes they cry because bouncing up and down is so stressful. Their trainer, Jay, works tirelessly to find workouts they can do which require them to bend over.


I Want To Look Like A Highschool Cheerleader Again

The hot, popular girls from high school who went out of their way every day to let you know how repulsed they were at the thought of even speaking to you have morphed into dumpy yentas who would blow you behind the dumpster at the local McDonald's just to get a couple of minutes of male attention. Watch them exercise and starve themselves in a frenzied attempt to grab a last year or two of possible attractiveness before menopause sets in. Their trainer, Jay, is the same trainer who works with the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader rookie candidates in the above mentioned show. Strangely, he doesn't seem to think the workouts which include gratuitous bending over would benefit these girls quite as much.

Thank you, CMT, for giving me two more reasons to get out of bed in the mornings. And thank you, Jay. You know why.

Some of life's great mysteries

Maybe you can answer a few questions for me. I can't figure these out, no matter how much I drink:

--Why do all middle-aged Asian ladies wear sweater sets to the gym? Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining--any time a person wears too much clothing instead of too little to the gym, I'm more than fine with it. There are plenty of people I wish would wear a floor-length fur coat, diving goggles, and that big red-and-white striped hat from The Cat In The Hat. But it does make me curious when I see those sweater sets. That can't be comfortable in the aerobics room, can it?

--When a good song comes on the radio, why are the least vocally talented people in the room determined to ruin it by squealing along? Just when I start to enjoy the music, the falsetto shrieks of the untalented kill the music in a vicious, unprovoked attack. Granted, some songs, like those by Britney Spears or Paula Abdul, can't be hurt even by the worst sing-alongers, because they already suck so mightily in their unmolested state, but why ruin the good stuff that comes on the radio?

--Aren't baby toys supposed to play happy, whimsical tunes? One of my daughter's crib toys--I can't be sure, but I think it's playing "Suicide Is Painless," which sounded appropriate enough as the theme song to M*A*S*H, but somewhat creepy when coming from my daughter's bed. Still, it entertains her, so I have no problem with it, at least until I find her in there building a homemade gin still or trying to perform a tracheotomy on her brother.

--Why does it seem to me like such an insurmountable task to buy pillows for our bed? I've been trying for about 6 years--no lie--to replace our floppy, sad pillows, but can't seem to commit to any of the pillows I see in the store. Time and time again I shop for pillows, pick them up, fluff them, squeeze them, imagine sleeping on them--and then put them back on the shelf. Would one of you please put me out of this misery and just go out and buy me some decent bed pillows? Just send me the bill. Otherwise I may die in 50 or so years with my elderly head resting on these same ratty-ass pillows.