when my husband works at night, the Internet must suffer

When you watch TV by yourself, a lot of snark gets pent up. I have to let it out. This may be the first in a series. Or not.

You know the Vagisil commercial, with the line that goes something like, “I learned the hard way that not all feminine products fight odor the same”? What is the easy way to learn that?

It bugs me in Jurassic Park, when Sam Neill is explaining how birds are descended from velociraptors, he goes through the physical similarities and then says “even their name, raptor, means bird of prey.” Circular reasoning, doc – they were named that because of all the similarities to birds – no one dug up a skeleton with a label on it that said Hello, My Name is Velociraptor. I get that it was exposition for the audience’s sake, but still. It’s dumb.

To Michael Landon: Someday Little House on the Prairie will be on for three hours every day instead of just once a week, and people will see the entire nine seasons over the course of a couple of months and notice there were only four guest stars and six plotlines over the entire run of the series. Also, you wouldn’t know continuity if it bit you in your giant schlong – dude, EITHER ALBERT BECAME A DOCTOR OR HE DIED. You can’t have it both ways. I still love your show and I’m sorry you’re dead.

I ended up sort of watching Outrageous Kid Parties because it was on after Toddlers and Tiaras, which is always so snark-worthy that nothing in particular stuck out tonight. But anyway, to the ice cream truck driver throwing an ’80s-themed party: You’re spending your entire annual salary to throw a party “for your kids” because you want to recapture your lost youth, and possibly your lost waistline, neither of which is going to happen. We all miss the 80s, get over it. Also, the only thing your kids are going to remember is that the whole neighborhood thinks you’re batshit.

And to the mom who named her kid Maverick. Ummm – did you miss the scene where Tom Cruise explains that’s a nickname? Or do you really just hate your kid?

Oh, but thank you, lord, for TLC. It’s like going to a Wal-Mart in Bithlo on a day when there’s a swap meet, church and a race, and there’s a fried chicken special in the deli.

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