Intervention

Disclaimer: I'm probably not going to make a lot of friends with this blog. Ah well.


With that said.. Have any of you seen the show on A&E called Intervention? First of all, love it. Second, I might want to mention that I've struck up a deal with my friend, Laura (as in, My Successor). The deal is, if I should walk into a room and happened to find Jeff VanVonderveen or Candy Finnigan sitting there, she is to distract the room while I slip out, never to be seen or heard from again. I'd do the same for her. A friend will orchestrate an intervention for you. A GOOD friend will help you escape one.

Anyway, I recently saw an episode where an African American woman had a bit of trouble holding her booze. I take that back, she had no trouble with it whatsoever---in fact, she did a remarkable job holding her booze. It was her family that had a problem with it. Damned if she didn't chug back a gallon of vodka a day. I was impressed by her strength, her stamina and her determination. Do you know much training I'd have to do to be at her level??? But, I liked her. She had moxie. Fiesty li'l thing, too. And quite a beauty, I might add. That is, if she could find the time to brush her hair or put her clothes on right side in. But, who had time for all that? What, with all the drinking.

But, I digress. Why I'm mentioning this is because I get absolutely giddy when a reality show such as Intervention or Bridezilla features a black woman. Here's where I'm going to lose friends. You may think it's because I'm racist or because I like to make fun of blacks. Absolutely not true. I love them. Maybe too much. I love to watch them. I love their chutzpah, I love how they say what they mean and mean what they say. Me loves me a strong, black woman! My favorite show of all times is Real Housewives of Atlanta on Bravo for crying out loud. I even write 'black' sketches on my show all the time. I wonder if my African American cast/crew have a problem with that. Well, fuck 'em if they have a problem with it, I'll tell you that much! I'm honoring them. I'm paying homage to them! Sometimes I wish I was one of them. Like when they ask me if I'm thirsty and I say, "Naw, I'm straight".

OK, so back to Intervention. This woman, you know, the booze hound? Yeah, well she fancied herself a caterer by trade. That is, she catered special events. Um..can I just tell you what she defined as "catered"? In one scene, she was half in the bag and she was trying to prepare for an event the next day. Holding her cigarette, with a 2 inch ash hanging from the tip, she took a can opener out of her drawer, opened an industrial sized can of peaches and tossed them into a bowl. .....And voila! Fresh fruit salad, served! I was dying. Then she went on a drunken rant about how she's such a good cook (all the while she was stirring the peaches with a spoon with a cig hanging out of her mouth). Mmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm---"ain't no one cook like me", she said.

That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. I just wanted to share this fun li'l observation with you.

Ima bounce. Pice.
(that's 'black' for I'm going to be getting on my way now. May you find peace in all that you do)