I wasn't going to post today as I had a lot of things going on, but I said I'd watch an episode of Kendra for ScottHar's sake. So I did.
Oh my frickin' God, Scott...how do you do it? Five minutes into the show I wanted to hurl myself off the nearest cliff! I don't think I could take it if I had to do your job with that show...nervous breakdown, some sort of self-labotomazation, something would happen to me.
I mean, how in God's name can Kendra take her husband-to-be to the Playboy mansion, where the last location Hef banged here was still found to be warm? And she wants to have her wedding there?
Gosh, I can't imagine why her finacee was just a little uncomfortable over the entire situation. He was shaking hands with the grandfather who had his soon-to-be wife sunny-side up, sunny-side down, scrambled, poached, and deep-fried.
So...I did it for you, Scott. And, to be honest, I don't think I can take another episode - unless you somehow manage to get the E! channel to allow soft porn. By contrast, it only took about three minutes of Holly calling Hef "puffin," and ovulating over the fantasy of that Hef was going to stay with here for the rest of her life to help me turn off The Girls Next Door.
I'm just not cut out for this type of entertainment. Back to the Discovery Channel I go...
