Shortly after class began last night, a student’s cell phone starting ringing (or peforming, since nowadays they actually don’t ring so much as they play music). It gradually got louder until the student stood up and ran out of the room to take the call. Now, at that point, if I had a cell phone, I’d check to make sure it’s off.
Nope. Not 10 minutes later another cell-phone went off. It kept getting louder and louder as the idiot woman tried to dig into the bottom of her bag to find it. Then she, too, ran out of the room to take the call. OK, people – now I can’t imagine a single other person not making sure their cell phone was off.
Wrong again. Two more times this happened. The professor finally cracked a joke and said “Are you guys all bookies?” I wouldn’t have been so nice. I’d have gone all second grade on their asses and confiscated their cell phones until recess.
I don’t get it. How rude can you get? A least one cell phone has run in every single class I’ve taken this semester (usually just one, though). In my other class, the professor actually (and appropriately) scolded the student and politely reminded the rest of the class to turn off cell phones before class. Unless your wife is about to have a baby or you know a person is seriously ill, shut your damn cell phone off! And, under those circumstances, why not put the ringer on vibrate? I hate people.
But although I may hate people, I think I’m in love. Yes, you read it here first – I’m in love with “The Biggest Loser”. The premiere was on television last night…and it’s fabulously tragic. Matt and I couldn’t stop laughing. Twelve overweight people compete to be the biggest (weight) loser. Caroline Rhea hosts (without any comedy…or make-up) and she was dressed like a pink Geisha for some reason. The contestants are tempted with trasty treats in their own well-lit, glass-fronted refrigerator and they are forced to work out constantly. Some cry, some puke. When it’s time to eliminate somebody, Caroline says “it’s time to cut the fat”. It simply can’t get any better than this. Oh, and did I mention that they break down the heavies into two teams who have to perform in a competition (last night it was dragging a car with no gas down a race track). The winners are given a 5 pound bag of lard that will be used to add an extra 5 pounds to the weight lost by the opposing team (giving the winning team a 5 pound advantage)! WOO HOO! And during the elimination section, the conestants are seated at a banquet table where they lift the lid off of a plate to reveal the name of the person being voted off. Once it’s determined who is leaving, the light on their refrigerator goes out and the show is over.
It’s just perfect bad TV. It’s got the cheezy music score (Jessica Simpson should have sung it), dramatic slow motion moments, competition between the good (being healthy) and evil (being indulgent). It’s also got the stereotypical bitch character in the female personal trainer…as well as the gay stereotype in the male trainer (they even play new-agey music whenever they show him and his team). The male trainer may not be gay (my gaydar sucks)…but they sure try to make him come off that way.
I sense that I’ll be rushing home from class the rest of the next semester so I don’t miss this one.
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