I am not a nice person. I make a good show of it, smiling and not tripping small children and whatnot, but deep down I am a cruel bastard. I can't help laughing at Holocaust jokes. My preferred style of driving could generously be described as "predatory," especially here in the non-Midwest. My Child's temper tantrums? Hilarious.
Which is why I didn't provide my 64 NCAA tournament predictions. Not because I'm lazy, or too busy. In the past two weeks I've had this page open not less than a dozen times, ready and willing to fulfill my end of the blogger-bloggee bargain. You know what I said to myself? "They're not worth it. They don't appreciate your acumen in putting UCLA in the Final Four, or choosing Villanova to get upset by Portland State." That's not the kind of valuable insight you deserved. So you didn't get it. Suck on that, reader.
As I watched 30Rock last week, I was reminded again of my not-so-secret evil-ocity. Glory be to my fantastically large HD compatible TV, 55" of Japanese magnificence: it allows me to watch Planet Earth on a 1:1 scale, and to actually see the puck while watching hockey (see? Someone in America DOES watch it). It also allows me to pay inordinate attention to things like Tina Fey's scar. And while I watched it morph and wiggle around smirks and grimaces and other attractive Tina Fey expressions, I wondered whether I was a little too fixated by it. And I was concerned.
Later that evening, though, I was watching Demetri Martin's show, and my mind started wandering, and then my eyes started wandering, and I noticed the mole on his neck. And I was disappointed that it was blurry, because then I couldn't get the full impact of the mole-ness. All of which led me to two conclusions: 1) Demetri Martin's show, while humorous, is not actually funny; and 2) it's not so much that I fetishized Tina Fey's scar, it's that I have an inordinate curiosity about random celebrity blemishes. Which then leads back to my being less than a saintly individual. which leads me to my next post...