Have you ever wondered why the ratings for television shows rarely have any correlation whatsoever to their quality? I used to as well. Not any more.
I was out shopping with my friend Amanda and I was finished in the store before she was. This was the day that I learned Amanda could spend hours shopping just for the hell of it, and resolved never to go shopping with her for anything ever again. Unless she buys me an Orange Julius.
I didn't feel like hanging out in the store for her to be done, so I went outside and sat down. Across the street and directly in my line of sight was a billboard (pictured below) for the show Burn Notice, which I hadn't heard of before. I sat there waiting for Amanda and getting more irritable with every minute that passed, with only this billboard to look at.
I couldn't just leave like I wanted to, because she was my ride. I was trapped. My irritability boiled over and soon transferred to the billboard as I became increasingly angry with the people pictured. "Look at that smug asshole with his condescending smirk and his sunglasses and his cufflinks," I thought. "Who the hell does he think he is? Does he think he's BETTER than me?" I then carried on an internal monologue of things he would likely say, all in an inexplicably whiny voice. "Oh, look at me, I'm so cool! I work in Miami and wear a suit and have a pool to stand in! Don't you wish you were like me, fatty? I could probably have sex with this girl right now, but I don't have to because there is a never-ending stream of strippers and Miami Dolphins cheerleaders trying to give me their number!" I imagined the girl next to him with the bratty little-sister pose thoughtfully adding, "YEAH!"
Forty-five minutes later when Amanda finally emerged from the store, I not only never wanted to watch this show, I wanted to spray paint a thought bubble on the billboard that said "I AM GAY."
The point of this story is that when you're alone with something for an extended period of time, you will begin to hate it. I imagine that my time with the billboard is a microcosm of why many marriages fail.
"Good morning, dear."
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT'S HOLY, CAN I EVER GET A MINUTE ALONE TO READ THE PAPER WITHOUT YOU SCREECHING AT ME?"
I'm told by more open-minded friends who've actually seen Burn Notice that not only is it pretty good, but also sort of a comedy. So, fuckface up there wasn't really being smug, he was just mugging. Still, the damage is done. The scars are permanent. I will never watch this show. And I will never trust Amanda when she says she "just has to run in there for a minute."
I don't want to veer wildly off topic, but I can't let the subject of smugness pass without talking about that self-satisfied Carl's Jr. star. I've about had it with him, too. What does this little shit have to be so smug about? He works in fast food and doesn't even have limbs! I just want to wipe that smile right off his fat face.
I think I need an enemies list. If it worked for Nixon, it will work for me.