I went away and stayed in a hotel! Yay!

A nice one, too. A fucking suite. Who's a privileged white girl? This boy.

I watched broadcast tv, too, so now I know where all you little, pop-culture-obsessed, glassy-eyed fuckers get your programming. If I were you, I'd seriously consider rebooting with a book.

Think of the planet.

There were a lot of bride shows, which is new from the last time I exposed myself to brain damage. Bride shows made out of spoiled, shallow bitchy women only toe-headed tools would marry. But cute (and with money!) toe-headed tools just as shallow as the animated mannequins they are stupidly going to marry, but shallow in a guy way. You know: SPORTS! VIDEO GAMES! GOLF! CARS!

So the bride-to-be runs around being a stressed out bitch and talking about the "most important day of her life" and shit. This is interspersed with televised jello-shots and plenty of plastic cleavage.

The fuck?

Then there's a show about midget wrestling and in the informercials all the men have flat dicks and bald heads. Every kitchen is inconvenient without this particular gadget that does pretty much what a fucking fork does.

Only $19.95

The Disney Channel is still cute, empty, and cookie-cutter touching, filled with emotions packaged and prepared in a lab and spoon-fed to clueless little peasants.

Constant commercials selling us cars, which most of us already have—and if we don't couldn't afford anyway.

And debt. The whole thing about your credit score. How to find out what it is, how to repair it, etc. Why? A good credit score is just a heightened ability to go into debt. If you are among the lucky millions with a bad credit score, thank your great god Mammon because you can't go further into debt.

Bizarre that tv teaches us that this is a bad thing.

And all the fucking preachers. Jesus fucking christ. There are more than last time, more and more channels of them. Sweaty, old men with obvious wigs beseeching and proclaiming and casting out shit, holding The Book Of Lies aloft like a glistening Trophy of Participation.

Their hair really bothered me. 50 and 60 year old men with the hair of 23 year olds, but not really, cuz it doesn't look quite right, you know? It's weirdly jet black, weirdly thick. I almost spotted a chin strap on some of them.

The most terrifying thing about them? The fucking filled seats in front of them. God help us all.

It wasn't all horrible and banal, banaL, banAL, baNAL, bANAL, BANAL!!!!!!!!!

I saw a cool show about the Japanese earthquake and tsunami (brought tears to my eyes), a show about the deepest holes we've dug into the earth and just what in the hell's down there.

By and large, though, the tv was beyond terrible. It felt like my soul was being anally ass-aulted by the hot red poker of Nothingness. I couldn't look away, couldn't, for the life of me, tear my eyes away. It was like a tragic, mangled carwreck.

"That's a leg!" I kept shouting. "That's a fucking leg without a human attached!"