please ignore the dying plant and artillery. Or not.

Today was a day with no televison. Not once was the TV turned on.

Not for the morning show to watch the news.

Not for the banality that is morning TV.

Not for Dr Phil.

Not for Oprah.

Not even for motherfucking Martha Stewart.

Now before you go all ‘WOW she has some serious restraint cause Martha was decorating cakes AND laundries today’ and I die a little inside because they are my two ob-freaking-sessions right now, it is not because I have gone on some weirded out hippy TV rots your brain tangent and will start duct taping scalding hot stones to my upper torso.

It was because I couldn’t find the remote.

Some fucker hid the bastard and because someone thinks it is absolutely necessary to hook shit up through other shit and have a fucking communicating remote that is all ‘did that fix the problem?’ and I am all NO IT DID NOT FIX THE PROBLEM BECAUSE I CANNOT FIND THE DAMN REMOTE TO ANSWER YOU, and if I don’t have the motherfucking communicating remote I have no freaking CLUE how to turn the TV on through the PVR/DRV/DVR/PVA/MIA/MRI thingamahboobie.

So today I sat in silence. And learned far more than I ever needed to about the Power Rangers.

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