I heart American Gladiators

Mondays Night = American Gladiators Night. I'm not sure what it is about American Gladiators; I'm hooked. Maybe it's Hulk Hogan--I had a serious case of Hulkamania back in elementary school. Last night I was hanging out on the couch, drinking a Big Miller Lite because I am a Big Girl, eating pizza and enjoying American Gladiator's tribute to the new "Incredible Hulk" movie (which I probably won't see until I get drunk and add it to my Netflix queue sometime next year). I mean, for crying out loud, Titan painted himself green and spoke only in grunts this week. Someone else is watching this, right?!?

Am I the only one who drunkenly adds bizarre movies to my Netflix queue? God help me if I happen to be watching "I love the 80's" part VIII with a beer in my hand and catch a reference to some bizarre science fiction movie. Three days later it's in my mailbox, and I have to watch it because I am Not a Waster. Except of time, because "Westworld" was not a good movie, even if Michael Crichton did write it.

Dreams are boring

I know, I know. Nobody likes hearing other people's dreams, unless it's a sex dream, and then you only want to hear about it if you were involved. But anyway, I had a dream last night that I was a contestant on "American Gladiators." I love that show, and even though I know I would eventually be defeated by the hand-bike and the Travelator (the uphill treadmill), I would have a moment of kick ass glory on the cargo-rope climb and the teeter-totter walk. I digress.

In my dream, I beat the Eliminator and was way excited. I even had to wrestle the male Gladiators (thank goodness, not Wolf) and I still won. I woke up pretty pumped. But then I was disappointed, because I had also dreamed I went grocery shopping and got bananas for my cereal, which did not happen in real life.

Also, yesterday was Ernie's birthday. He is now 3. He used to look like this:


Now he looks like this: