At my desk, on the left, there is a television that I keep on all day to watch news updates. Sometimes, if I walk away from my desk and forget to turn off the tv, I will return to something not-news related playing on the screen. Sometimes it's an episode of The OC, or Rachel Ray - sometimes it's CityLine or an old movie. Right now, it's Tyra Banks' talk show.

I knew I didn't like her from what I knew of her from other shows I've seen her in, but I can say with certainty today, as I watch her interview the innovative man who brought us "Girls Gone Wild" videos, that she's a twit.

I wish you could see her twitchy face as she probes this guy (whose name I could care less if I commit to memory) for answers. "Were you in love with Paris Hilton?" she asks, rubbing her hand, her eyebrows fixed in a penetrating stare. He dodges the question and answers that she is a great girl - but Tyra doesn't let him off that easy -- "So, you... weren't in love with Paris?" Her perfectly manicured eyebrows raised in a question mark.

This is such bullshit that I may actually barf. What's more is - her poor, silly, audience is equally compelled by this man's (complicated?) and seedy life. He's a slimy little man, who deserves to be slapped silly at best, or ignored at least and here Tyra Banks is bringing him and his "story" to national midday television. 

I don't care about a lot of things --  and maybe that's because apathy tastes a lot better than the sour flavour of perpetual disappointment -- but today, right now, in this hour, I care about this. The guest is a douchebag and Tyra's a douchebag for introducing his petty, arrogant, meaningless thoughts to me and millions of other idiots who are watching this right now.

Yours rantingly,

Kerri O