I mentioned earlier today in Part 1 how we thought Sunday was New Year’s Eve (mostly cuz our heads were up our butts).
We were further confused by the lack of college football the next day, but again blamed the local tv stations, not our own stupidity.
Took us till the 5pm news Monday, with its stories on where to go and how to stay safe, to figger out we got the day wrong.
Now, finally, on to the Rockin’ Eve itself… or what I like to call The Hellish Musical Disneyfication of the Universe As We Know It.
9pm – Ryan Seacrest, the Dick Clark of the post-MTV generation, is our host for the evening. He says Dick will be with us shortly. On the couch next to me, Sue jokes that Dick is napping, so they can’t cut away to him yet. I go one step further, suggesting two other possibilities:
1) Dick is actually off-line at the moment, having been animatronically kept alive the past few years since he got sick. He needs to be rebooted often, as they’re running his software through Vista.
2) Dick made a deal with the devil to live forever, but the deal has strings attached. His soul must now inhabit Seacrest’s body, so that Satan can continue to have the greatest possible input into the cornerstone of His empire, American Idol (Satan, you see, is Simon Cowell). Then when Seacrest also gets old and goes out of fashion, Clark will move on to inhabit the bodies of those brats Zack and Cody, cohosts of American Idol, Season 32: Singing, Dancing, and Demolitions Experts.
9:09 –My boy Graham’s sittin’ between us on the couch. He doesn’t know who Mylie Cyrus/Hannah Montana is (bless his sweet innocent soul), as she belts out some bubblegum pop. Sue doesn’t know her either. Meanwhile, Graham is twirling mine and Sue’s hair, one head with each hand.
9:11 – Why is token ethnic “reporter” Marisol Castro talking to real people in the crowd in such a fake way? I want to puke, and I’m not even drunk. “Will you keep your resolutions?”
What are the tourists gonna say? “No”?