Carson May Be a Fathead...

But Regis is worse.

Forgive me, Carson. I was wrong.

You may be the oldest, stiffest, creepiest 31-year-old on the planet, but by comparison, Regis is just old. And at the same time your New Year's Eve show broadcast a performance by Maroon 5, Regis had Rod Stewart doing "It's a Wonderful World," via satellite.

And it sucked.

Rod Stewart gets my vote for the least hip human on the planet, despite his desperate attempts to prove himself otherwise.

And you have Conan, Carson, and I like Conan.

The offspring are still among us. Or me, anyway. After the Anchorman viewing, Peter packed it in. He's fast asleep.

Avril Lavigne is on. Oh joy! The offspring adore Avril. She is everything they want to be, and supposedly, she doesn't even lipsync!

Next up, Duran Duran. I must watch.

2004 Goes Out Like a Lamb

This post is dedicated to the memory of Jerry Orbach, who will live on in my TV-addicted heart forever and ever.

Well, we're going to miss A&M's party. After lurching around like a monkey yesterday and buying the hummus and Wasa bread I promised as well as U's birthday gift, Peter is sick. Hasn't been the most pleasant patient, either, so I've been avoiding him.

He is usually so easygoing you have to check his pulse to make sure he's still breathing, but when he's sick he's no bargain.

Anyway, we'll eat the hummus and Wasa, along with the lowbrow Wispride port wine cheese and Triscuits I bought this afternoon, while we watch Anchorman with Will Ferrell.

Anything to avoid Carson Daly.

Anything!

I may take a peek at Regis Philbin filling in for poor Dick Clark if we finish the movie in time. I bought some organic (no sulfites!) wine for the occasion. Got me a case of Guinness downstairs, too. I'll have to leave it alone, though. I have nobody to drink it with.

Peter's friend Br is down from Rochester. He's on Long Island right now, where he'll attend A&M's party (boo hoo!), but he should head this way tomorrow afternoon.

Must wash that kitchen floor. Again!