Without cable TV, I’m flipping between the networks and the TV20 Bible Trivia smackdown, in which local churches are pitted against each other in a spine-tingling tooth-and-nail fight to the finish. I’m sure Jesus would approve.

Why is Jessica Alba one of the hosts of AFI’s 10 Top 10? Why? What has she been in that was good? (Is it my imagination, or does The Love Guru look like one of the worst movies in the history of movies?) At least It Happened One Night got props. You’ve seen that, right? If not, you must run, not walk, to your Netflix queue right now. Michael J. Fox. Sigh. The effects of Parkinsons are really starting to show, and I wonder, what kinds of roles would he be playing now if it weren’t for the disease? I’ve always admired him, and now that he’s finally starting to look his age it would be great to see him playing against his type and trying new things.

I’m sorry. This is what happens when I blog while watching TV and after sharing a pitcher of Hefeweizen. (Did the dingo eat Meryl Streep’s baby or not?) (I hope The Caine Mutiny makes it onto the Courtroom Drama list. Seriously, we are to #2 and they haven’t named it yet. Hmm, it didn’t make it. Who decides these things? Jessica Alba?)

I really do not care for these Charmin commercials with the cartoon bears. I don’t want to think about pieces of toilet paper being “left behind” and the relative absorption of bear fecal matter. What was so wrong with “please don’t squeeze”? If it ain’t broke…

Okay, one more day. One more day in Salt Lake and then we are loading up the parakeet and a whole lot of books and on our way outa town for eight weeks to continue G.’s edumacation. So we are puttering around listening to music and packing in a disorganized fashion, because how else can you pack when it’s 79 degrees in the house? Don’t answer that.