Today, against my better judgement, I sat down and watched a Kendra marathon. For those of you not lame enough to be addicted to the E! Channel, Kendra (Wilkinson) is one of Hugh Hefner's ex-girlfriends. Other than that, who is she? What has she done to be famous? Why does she have her own TV show? I have no idea.
Anyway like I said, I've been watching this show pretty much all day. I'm still not sure how I feel about it; it fills me with equal parts amusement and disgust. The best part is Kendra's laugh. It's so manic and loud and mannish, it makes me feel a little better about having my own crazy style of laughter. The worst part is the closing credits. Oh, the closing credits. They are so bad. So so bad. They make me want to tear out my own eyes and eat them. Or have the skin slowly peeled from my face. Or stab myself in the neck with a sharpened carrot. I think, honestly, I think performing open heart surgery on myself would be less painful than watching the Kendra closing credits. They are that bad. Basically it's Kendra, dressed in several different outfits, shaking her groove thing to some horrible custom-made theme song. It's the outfits that get me; they're all regular clothes, and then one is a golf outfit. What? Why? Why is this woman wearing a golf outfit? Does she play golf? Does she like golf? Does she know what golf is? I watched at least 6 hours of this show today, and didn't see anything that would allow me to answer any of those questions with a yes.
One thing I found really confusing was when Kendra and her fiance moved into their new house, and they had a stripper pole installed in the middle of the living room. Now, I'm all for a good stripper pole...but, in the middle of the living room? Seriously?? That can't be convienient. This thing goes from floor to ceiling, yo. What happens if you get up in the middle of the night needing a glass of water? I don't know about anyone else, but I just know 9 times out of 10, I'd coathanger myself on that bad boy trying to avoid it in the dark. On the other hand though, they probably both have dynamite abs.
On a completely different note, my sister recently bought a new car. Or new-old car, I suppose is the correct term, since it's second-hand. Or actually third-hand. It was our older sister's husband's first, then our brother's, and now it's hers. Now that's what I call keeping it in the family. Maybe one day it'll be mine. You know, if I ever quit running over cops for long enough to get my license. Ahh, probably not.
Anyway, Catherine must have been in a good mood on the day she brought it home, since she allowed me to name it. Him. His name is Marley - after Bob Marley, not the dog from that Jennifer Aniston movie. Here's how I came up with it:
The number plate is BEN-469
BEN is short for BENJAMIN
If you take the BEN out of BENJAMIN, you get JAMIN
JAMMIN' is a song by BOB MARLEY
If you take the BOB out of BOB MARLEY, you get MARLEY
Okay, back to Kendra. One of Kendra's dumbass playboy bunny friends just made probably the smartest comment I have ever heard in my life:
Dumbass Playboy Bunny Friend: I could never sleep naked. I just think about robbers. I don't wanna be naked when a robber comes in - I need to get the f*** out of there!!
Hahaha. So true. In my case though, I think being naked would actually work to my advantage. Like, I think for a robber, seeing my bare butt would be more frightening than seeing me holding a cricket bat like a weapon, or calling the cops, or whatever. Yeah! Forget home security systems, I'm just gonna run around naked all the time!
Ha. Oh, man. I'm such an idiot.