Today I realized what my irrational fear is...
A few months ago, Jenny Jones showcased a bunch of people with goofy fears. One woman was afraid of buttons. Buttons made her cry. She couldn't touch them. She couldn't be near anyone who exhibited a large number of buttons. Jenny, of course, helped her overcome the madness. At the end of the show, the woman was wearing a tasteless craft-show-whore type of vest that appeared to be made entirely of buttons, and she was smiling about it. "Thank you Jenny, for helping me wear buttons!"
On the same show, another woman was scared to death of "little people". Jenny, of course, brought three little people onto the stage, and tough-loved the woman into hugging one of the little men. The woman was screaming and crying--inches away from having some sort of frantic seizure, yet she managed to hug him. At the end of the show, I believe the woman and the little man were fornicating in the green room.
This morning, as I ate my Blueberry Morning cereal (on sale at Schnucks!), Matt Lauer greeted me from the streets of New York. He was surrounded by professional team mascots. The only normal person on the street (sans Mr. Lauer) was a woman who organized the mascot convention being held right now in New York. There must have been twenty bigger-than-life characters jumping around Matt and the woman--all with the intention of getting the most face time on national television. Big wolves with football jerseys, an eagle with huge muscles, a horse that looked a bit like Fabio, lions, tigers, bears... As I sat on the couch watching this madness, I found that my heart was racing. I was terrified for Matt Lauer. How can he stand there knowing that there are twenty flamboyant people surrounding him, all dressed as big cheerleading animals? And they're all dancing! And they're hugging each other! Dear God, make them stop!!! Go to a commercial break, for God's sake!!!
If I were to be a guest on Jenny Jones, I'm afraid my "final challenge" would be to endure Fred Bird gently tapping me on the head with one of those giant "We're number one" styrofoam hands. And the tears would stream down my face...
A few months ago, Jenny Jones showcased a bunch of people with goofy fears. One woman was afraid of buttons. Buttons made her cry. She couldn't touch them. She couldn't be near anyone who exhibited a large number of buttons. Jenny, of course, helped her overcome the madness. At the end of the show, the woman was wearing a tasteless craft-show-whore type of vest that appeared to be made entirely of buttons, and she was smiling about it. "Thank you Jenny, for helping me wear buttons!"
On the same show, another woman was scared to death of "little people". Jenny, of course, brought three little people onto the stage, and tough-loved the woman into hugging one of the little men. The woman was screaming and crying--inches away from having some sort of frantic seizure, yet she managed to hug him. At the end of the show, I believe the woman and the little man were fornicating in the green room.
This morning, as I ate my Blueberry Morning cereal (on sale at Schnucks!), Matt Lauer greeted me from the streets of New York. He was surrounded by professional team mascots. The only normal person on the street (sans Mr. Lauer) was a woman who organized the mascot convention being held right now in New York. There must have been twenty bigger-than-life characters jumping around Matt and the woman--all with the intention of getting the most face time on national television. Big wolves with football jerseys, an eagle with huge muscles, a horse that looked a bit like Fabio, lions, tigers, bears... As I sat on the couch watching this madness, I found that my heart was racing. I was terrified for Matt Lauer. How can he stand there knowing that there are twenty flamboyant people surrounding him, all dressed as big cheerleading animals? And they're all dancing! And they're hugging each other! Dear God, make them stop!!! Go to a commercial break, for God's sake!!!
If I were to be a guest on Jenny Jones, I'm afraid my "final challenge" would be to endure Fred Bird gently tapping me on the head with one of those giant "We're number one" styrofoam hands. And the tears would stream down my face...
posted by Angela at
3:16 PM
