Why I'm going to hell

So, lots of you have been asking where I've been and why I haven't been blogging. I blame it all on new fall TV, really.

One of the shows I enjoy despite myself is Dancing with the Stars. There's no one I'm particularly rooting for this season, although I am hating Mario Lopez more than is probably necessary or healthy, and I'm rooting against him. I pretty much like everyone else and want them to do well, and I really thought it was sweet that Jerry Springer was all about, "Please keep me around until we do the waltz, because I want to learn it for my daughter's wedding." Awwww! I'ma huge sucker for the daddy-daughter dance, and I still cry every time I hear the song I wanted to dance to with my dad (that Paul Simon song from The Wild Thornberries), even though he vetoed it and we in fact danced to some schmaltzy, never-ending song that I don't even remember.

Anyway. Even though Springer is this season's George Hamilton -- long on charm, short on actual dancing talent -- I was really rooting for him to make it through the waltz episode. Which he did, last night.

The Smelmooo and I were watching the show largely on fast-forward, and overshot the return from commercial break right before Jerry danced. We started watching as the camera panned to the audience (just as they had earlier to show that Eva Longoria was there, cheering for -- and wearing a sparkly shirt in support of -- my much-loathed Mario), and I said, "Oh my god -- is that Jim J. Bullock?!" Because, you know, the person looked like Jim J. Bullock wearing a really awful blonde wig.

And, of course, she turned out to be Jerry's daughter, for whom he was doing this waltz, and who also happened to be (hooray for the Smelmooo bringing back the laptop so we have IMDB and Wikipedia at our fingertips at all times)? Born legally blind, without nasal passages, and deaf in one ear. So, yeah, I totally mocked Jerry's handicapped daughter, and I'm going to hell.

The end.

Aren't you glad I'm back?