I awoke to the sounds of NPR. For me, this qualifies as a rude awakening. I'm just not an NPR kinda girl. Not just in that I shave my legs on a regular basis. They editorialize every single story. If Katie Couric reported the news like they do on NPR she'd be fired. The story I woke up to was about Terrell Owens. Correction it was about how the story of Terrell Owens was "big news" and reporters were all over the Dallas Cowboys yesterday. They disdain sports anyway on NPR, but they were really disparaging in this particular report. Referring to TO as "a man who catches footballs for a living". Yes, I realize that being a wide receiver in the NFL isn't as nobel a profession as making peanuts as a posturing little stringer for NPR, but please. Okay, I think I'm done ranting.
I've done almost no knitting. I missed Project Runway last night and the Gilmore chicks season premier on Tuesday. I have nothing worthwhile to write about. Except, despite what he says, I think TO probably did try to kill himself and I hope that someone gets him help. 'Cos he's seemed a little nuts to me for quite some time. I don't know if I'd want my boss to be the warm and fuzzy Bill Parcells if I was feeling blue.