An Honest Alibi

An Honest Alibi

Driving to work this morning, I found myself saying aloud, “No! No, no, no, no, no…” as Mr. Brightside played over the radio. I can’t take hearing that song. Like Cartman in South Park, when he hears that old song Come Sail Away from Styx, he finds himself having to sing the entire song, verse, chorus and all, just to get it out of his head and, even then, it doesn’t really work and he finds himself stuck in a fog, with that song swirling around his cranium.

“He’s having a smoke and she’s taking a drag…Choking on your alibis…but it’s just the price we pay…destiny is calling me…” Ugh. Sometimes, I just HATE catchy songs. They’ll be the death of me yet, I swear (that is, if I don’t suffer from “Death by Ikea,” die from my addiction to all things photo-related, or get killed from a falling honkingly large, black, Rhode Island printer first.)

In other news, since it involved murder and mayhem, I watched part of CSI this week. (Hey, I’ve got a built-in excuse, “TiVo made me do it!” What’s yours?) This week’s episode featured some actress with a husky voice (who I’d actually seen before in, I think, some sitcom) married to this casino boss who was killed after being thrown from a balcony in their super lux mansion on the hill home. Her alibi was, I swear I’m not making this up, “I was at the club playing Canasta with my friends.”

Yes, Canasta. Not Keno, not Blackjack, Craps was right out. She was living in Las Vegas, in a super lux mansion on the hill, and she offed her husband only to later try and convince the police she was too busy playing Canasta and didn’t really have motive anyway. Perhaps her friends were of the little green variety but, alas, I fell asleep on the couch before I saw the end of it all (murders do that to me now because, well, I’ve seen so many, what with the TiVo being setup the way it is and all.)

She’s an alien! That explains it all! The bad sitcom, the husky voice, all that murder, the TiVo, Las Vegas itself. Gosh, I feel like oh so clued in now, don’t you?

Now if only I could explain my addiction to Mr. Brightside and all things Bam Margera, I would feel so much better. (Didn’t Bam actually go to Las Vegas once and, I wonder, while he was there, did he maybe like hum Mr. Brightside or something? Hmmm.)

Until next time…


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *