saturday night boring
because we, apparently, never go out anymore, the boyfriend i find ourselves eagerly anticipating 11:30 on saturday night because that’s when SNL comes on (thank god, too. that damn writers strike and all) and we get to hang with our friends Amy Poehler, Kristin Wiig (it looks like a rabbit), Penelope and The Target Lady (both played by Wiig). okay, so this is what i hear happened: Janet Jackson was scheduled to be the musical guest, but i guess bitch got the flu or something, so St. Mariah steps in and makes all the RnB gays twitter with excitement. i think she looked great…
BUT…
Dear Mariah,
You and I go way back. Like seventh grade way back. 1990. you know, when you used to sing? i loved you from the first time i heard Vision of Love. you used to wear all black, you had that curly hair that girls with bone straight hair would kill for (especially cause perms were so expensive back then). you were accessible–meaning, not crazy–like, oh, my babysitter up the street who was so cool and wore jean jackets like all the time. in my heart you were second only to Whitney. i played each album over and over and over, singing along with you, thinking that if you can hit those notes, surely i can too! i used to force my parents, as they drove me around to soccer practice, to listen to Someday, Dreamlover, Hero, Emotions, Vanishing, Love Takes Time, oh so many songs…believe me, i have ground down some of your cassettes (!). then as i reached highschool and it was totally uncool to listen to mariah carey, i was still there…singing along with you…all the way through college…then you went a little crazy and we don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to.
and everyone said your career was dead but then you stormed back with The Emancipation of Mimi and i heard your voice echoing once again across the hills, calling me so…well, i didn’t buy that album, as i only like three songs, but it doesn’t mean i’m not a fan. it’s just that…now, after that SNL slop fest…i mean…can’t you just go back to singing? you can still dress like a ho and rub up on some gangstas, but can you sing while doing it? no, i mean really really sing. honestly, that could have been janet up there whispering something incomprehensible into the microphone, cause lord knows she can’t sing (and probably would have lipsynched if she was able to be there). and the two times you tried to belt it, it sounded like maybe you’d had a bit too much to drink and smoke last night.
anyway, just some thoughts…
M
ps, i’m not sure what i’m watching at the moment, but goldie hawn is getting chased by chimpanzees. i’m pretty sure it’s not my favorite Overboard.
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