You Got It

My earlier post "Unresolved" just got two spam comments, which I've deleted, from a user named, cleverly, "123," whom I've reported to Blogger as a spammer. I'm really hoping this isn't the start of another spamming spree. Maybe it's time to turn the word verification on again. . .I really don't want to go to having comments moderated & approved before posting, as I prefer true discourse, even when it disagrees with me. We'll see, I guess.

Season 8 of American Idol is off to it's usual start: truly decent slash good vocalists presented within an abyss of really exceptionally bad vocalists. It amazes me that after so many years we still see so many horrific singers show for these try-outs. See, I know I'm not a great singer, and have Rock Band as my outlet, where, at worst, I annoy my neighbours and not all of America. And I get the ones who obviously know they don't have it, but show up anyway for their 30 seconds of fame (really, who has time for fifteen minutes anymore?), but the rest, the awful ones who come off so devastated. . .are people really that non-self-aware? I cry.

Scrubs spoiled: J.D. and Eliot are together again. Surprise, surprise. Otherwise, it's been ok. Not the pure fantastic joy it once was, but better than the last two seasons. . .so far. I hold out hope. One of the new doctors is an extremely blunt and slightly cold no-nonsense type named Denise. I chuckle.