Deal or No Deal

Okay, I've gotten suckered into watching this show and I actually enjoy it, although I have no idea why - it's essentially roulette with pretty girls and suitcases. The contestants don't need to be clever or well-schooled, just lucky. It's not as easy to "play along" as, say, Jeopardy! or Who Wants to be a Millionaire? But, not unlike some of the other cheesy programs I have come to enjoy, Deal or No Deal is just that much more enjoyable accompanied by the following drinking game:

• take a drink whenever Howie Mandel says "hello" when he answers the phone
• take a drink whenever Howie Mandel uses the name of the "model" when requesting that she open a suitcase
• take a drink whenever a contestant insists that the million dollars is inside the suitcase they have selected at the start of their game
• take a drink whenever any of the "models" say something
• take a drink whenever the contestant has an especially animated outburst (defining this can be left to your own discretion, but you may wish to consider fainting, falling down, jumping, funny catchphrases, tears, etc.)
• take a drink whenever the contestant's onstage support network of three begs the contestant to take the deal and the contestant does the opposite

Feel free to add your own additional accompaniments to this game in the comments section!

American Idol Drinking Game

OK, so we sort of invented this American Idol drinking game...and I say sort of because I find it really hard to believe that nobody else has thought of this yet and I'm sure that somebody has, I just haven't necessarily stumbled upon it. So, if it turns out that somebody else thought of this exact game way before we did, then fine, take credit - I'm cool with that.

And here's how it goes: While watching American Idol, take one drink any time any of the following occur:

• Paula Abdul acts drunk, loopy, out-of-it, goofy or claps her hands with her fingers all spread apart like a toddler
• Simon uses the words "karaoke" or "cabaret"
• there is a spat between either Simon and Paula or Simon and Ryan
• the contestant follows the camera with their eyes
• the contestant holds up their fingers to indicate their call-in number
• Kellie Pickler says something stupid or doesn't understand something
• Paula, for lack of anything credible to say about the contestant's performance, (or, apparently, when she doesn't really care for the performance but is incapable of offering negative feedback), compliments the contestant's appearance
• Randy says "dawg," "dude," "I wasn't feelin' it," "we got a hot one tonight," "yo,"or "a'ight"
• Ryan has a different facial hair configuration from the week before
• a member of another show from Fox network is in the audience
• a contestant cries
• a contestant does the "Country Western Squat" while singing

No zzzzzzzz and Sleater-Kinney sushi

I love insomnia. Actually, I don't love it, per se, but I do suspect that it is something akin to Linus and that damn blanket for me. Sometimes I just can not, for the life of me, make sleep happen. It just simply won't. Now is one of those times. Oddly, I think that the wandery, racing thoughts have something to do with it. Last night, for example, I was laying there thinking, amongst other things, "damn it, what the hell is Jerud's middle name?" And it was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't quite access it. Then it came to me. Burton. His middle name is Burton. And it's not that I really needed to know that, nor was I planning on using that information for anything, I just couldn't shut my mind down because I didn't know the answer to the question. I know what you're thinking. . . it's no wonder I can't sleep since there are so many questions that I don't know the answer to. Yeah, I know.

The other night, Kira and I got to go out for sushi. Not that that is so unusual, really, but this time we had actual reasons. I was feeling under the weather -ok, like total crap- and, despite my very good intentions of making the really yummy mac and cheese from Noble Rot, I just couldn't do it. Plus I was craving miso - or a good chicken matzoh ball soup, but that is a whole other rant. The other reason was to honor Kira's kick assedness on her project for her language arts class in which, on four separate categories with a possible five points each, she received six points for three of the categories and five on the other. Kira's awesome. So we're sitting there in Mio Sushi on Hawthorne (yes, we drove...I'm sick, remember?) drowning my pending ailment in soy bean curd broth and celebrating Kira's awesomeness and in walks Carrie Brownstein, guitarist for Sleater-Kinney. She's there to pick up some take out and, while looking quite adorable in her loose jeans and down puffy jacket, she pretty much blends in with all of the other Portlanders. Thing is, the only other time I've seen a member of Sleater-Kinney about town and not on stage was in Mio Sushi on Hawthorne about a year ago when we saw Janet Weiss, the drummer, dining there with some friends.

My newest issue of Vanity Fair arrived in yesterday's mail. The cover is their pre-Oscar pull-out showcasing ten Hollywood starlets. And with the exception of the three (3!) ethnic chicks, they are ALL BLONDS! wtf? Since I have not yet had a chance to read the accompanying article, the exact criteria for coverdom inclusion remains a mystery. Some of the celeblets are established household names (Uma Thurman and Claire Danes), whereas others are more up-and-coming (Ziyi Zhang and Sienna Miller). But why not a better balance with a brunette or two? How about Natalie Portman and Fairuza Balk? They wouldn't even have to throw out two blonds in order to squeeze the other two in - I mean, it's a pull-out cover, there's plenty-o-room! Perhaps I shall write them and address this oversight. OK, I know I never will, but I like to think that I might, that I'm inclined to.

J is making me watch The Bachelorette. Alright, so she's not making me, but if it weren't for her, I'd probably have never known that the show existed at all. Well, except when Meredith was on, but that's 'cause she's from Portland and I like knowing about things from Portland. So I'm on the couch studying and Jillynn informs me that this season's bachelorette is Jen, who was slated to marry Andrew Firestone and who has been on the cover of People magazine almost as many times in the past year as Johnny Depp has. "That's nice, honey," I tell J, as if I really don't give a shit. But this thing is a trainwreck and I can't sit in the same room and not watch it. As an added bonus, I invented a drinking game to accompany said program:

-take one drink every time someone speaks of "taking things to the next/another level"
-take two drinks every time the word "connection" is uttered
-take three drinks every time the phrase "the most ________rose ceremony EVER" is announced

I should turn all tv shows into drinking games!