Honey Boo Boo returns to brighten my life tonight. I am slightly disappointed that of all of the ridiculous, selfish prayers that I throw up to God every day all the time, that THIS is the one he decides to dial in on. But whatevs. Perhaps the world just isn’t ready for me to own my own private island inhabited by baby pygmy goats, sloths, and mute Ryan Lochtes. I’ll take what I can get. And what I can get is this:
I would apologize for the sketchy graphic, but if The Daily Mail can unabashedly post screenshots, I figure I have full license to do the same.
If TLC’s schedule is to be trusted, tonight will feature a 3-hour block of this belly-rubbing beauty queen/toddler. I’m slightly nervous that it will not live up to my expectations, which are Chinese-Olympian high, given that Alana’s 6-minute Toddler & Tiara youtube clip got me through some rough months of winter despair. But so far, the reviews have been encouraging (I think “weirdly watchable” is pretty much a rave review when it comes to this sort of programming).
Speaking of the Olympics: that phenomenon continues to sap all of my energy and wakeful hours. I just don’t understand how it is physiologically possible for me to be so exhausted while not actually competing in any of these televised events (n.b. I am consciously leaving the door open for you to believe I may be competing in the un-televised events). I’m clearly going to need some go-go juice tonight if I want to stay awake to deftly navigate my channel surf between Honey Boo Boo and more beach volleyball, which refuses to ever end, despite my pleas for them to give out some medals and some pants already.
Speaking of insane child spawns and not wearing pants, my one and only reader, Shannon, passed along this gem today, which highlights yet another reason I would welcome a relocation package to Singapore. I promptly forwarded the video to my boyfriend in an email entitled “U Ready?” Surprisingly, I have yet to receive a response.