10cc of Self-Esteem Boost

No, this is not going to be a second-straight entry pondering my deeply damaged psyche.

Instead, this is related to having spent about ten minutes watching E! last night. The Special Lady Friend turned it there last night to go to sleep to the Bring It On sequel* starring Hayden Panettiere. In addition to asking its audience to believe that there were no hot African-American females on the Crenshaw cheerleading squad, the ten minutes of film that I saw was fearfully stale and managed to make Panettiere merely moderately attractive. What kind of retard was in charge of casting here? The answer to that hypothetical question is that there were two retards, and their names are Devon Marie King and Pamela Lynn Thomas. You can rest at ease this evening in knowing that neither has been given the opportunity to act as casting director in more than one other film, so you'll not have your escape into a world of more attractive people tarnished by either of these two tasteless fools.

*I was astonished to find out that this was actually the third unrelated installment of the Bring It On franchise. While I actually liked the first one, I don't think anyone could possibly explain to me the necessity for a second, or even more bafflingly (if that's actually a word) a third. What the fuck?

But what is even better is watching the ads on E!, which are life-affirming to say the least. The most ridiculous are the ads trying to add a degree of importance or vitality to E!'s own programming. No fucking way! Both "Hulk Hogan & Family" and "Lindsay Lohan: True Hollywood Story"? "15 Most Infamous Child Star Mugshots" (two whole hours devoted to that). "THS Investigates Cults, Religion and Mind Control" (yet another entrant in the two hour special)? Oh, here's another "True Hollywood Story"... This time it features none other than Star Jones. I'd keep going but that covers about 15 hours of programming, with four hours being eaten up by Paid Programming and at least another hour of Celebrity News programs.

Going so far as to implicate that there was even an iota of quality to that docket of shit is insulting, but obviously there is a demographic that finds this to be a compelling argument. Allowing for that, you can re-evaluate your life, and pretty much no matter how far short you've come of where you thought you would be when you envisioned your life as a wide-eyed 15-year-old, at least you are not so sad as to be won over by their profiles of psuedo-celebrities and masturbatory countdowns.