Remember the good old days when Barbara Walters still had tear ducts? It was around the same time we still pretended it was an accent and not a speech impediment. Ms. Walters seemed to have it all -- a good rep in the news world, those wascally Oscar specials, and 20/20 with Huge Downs. But the world was not enough for Barbara and so in her one spare moment that year, she breathed life into a still standing estrogen fest called The View.
She populated this brave new world with journalistically well hung Meredith (Baxter) Vieira, Joy Behar, edgy enough to maybe, just maybe go off on someone, Queen of the Lawyuhr Laydees Star Jones and the young and innocent (dumb) Debbie Matenopolous. When Barbara wasn't busy getting her face pulled like Mona did in Brazil, she'd sit in with les girls.
At first Debbie M. seemed like a breath of fresh air and then, she opened her mouth. From that moment on, it was clear that she had to go. SNL even got in on the act spoofing the dumbness that was Debbie by throwing her in a large bag with snakes and clubbing her. In real life, poor Debbie was eventually eaten by Star Jones and just like that, the world's problems were solved. Yay!
Right now I feel a little like Debbie. Each time I open my mouth, a lot of hot air escapes and so I close it again. I haven't had an idea of my own in ages and so I've been a little like sponge toffee and soaked up what some of you guys like to get up to.
I now present Exbibits 1 through however many I may have already forgotten:
Angela mentioned the Warhol exhibit. I went to the gallery and wrote about it.
Beth brought up her love of Lyle Lovett and His Large Band. I went to his concert and wrote about it.
Holly talked about a documentary called New York Doll about Arthur Killer Kane. I saw it and wrote about it.
Skincarver/Creepy wrote about the film The 3 Burials of Melquiades Estrada. I watched and wrote about it.
Ziggy mentioned The Saddest Music In The World. I played along at home and wrote about it.
Coaster Punchman and Lulu waxed eloquently about Roberston Davies. I ordered a trilogy and will write about it.
All I want to know before I go any further is, which one of you has the bag of snakes?