Southern Accents

"What did she say?" "I didn't hear a thing, George!" She says in a Lucille Bluth tone

Last weekend I rented BRAVE on Amazon. Since it was a 3 day rental, we wanted to maximize the investment, and watched it 7 times. It's a good movie, and thankfully, the more I watched it the less my heart strings were being tugged. The first run through I got the warm and fuzzies after a couple minutes into the film, and was crying by the end. I was so embarrassed, I considered smothering myself with the pillow I was using to dry my tears.

Kids movies are good at pushing those emotional buttons I keep under a safety cover. The one that has a sign saying, "Break glass in case of emergency."
I'm fine with crying over something worthy of a tear, but crying over a cartoon chicken looking for her baby chick, makes me feels as stupid as a chicken. If I want to cry over a video about chickens, then I would go onto PETA's website, and spend the rest of the month awake at night thinking, "What have I done?!"

After our rental came to an end, I talked in a Scottish accent the rest of the week. My kids didn't seem to mind, or even notice. I read all their picture books in my newly adopted voice. After binge watching House of Cards I dropped the Scottish accent, and picked up a Southern accent. Francis Underwood's Southern drawl echoed in my head all day long, and I couldn't help but imitate.

Jamberry is the perfect children's book to read in this accent. It's about a boy and his friend bear on an escapade through a berry rich countryside. They are country bumpkin types, no shoes with a top hat where the lid flops open. The best part is getting to say "berry" in my Underwood accent. It sounds like, "baaaray."

After I finished the season, I was relieved to have it off my plate. The most frustrating part about watching 13 hours of a TV show in a couple nights, is that the boring story lines become such a nuisance, an invitation to fast forward. The Doug Stamper story was so damn boring, and the cluster fuck with him and Rachel/Cassie went on much longer than it ever needed to. When he went to go find her, AGAIN, I said to myself, "if he doesn't kill her, or she doesn't kill him, I am never watching this show again." Spoiler alert, I can pick up where I left off 350 days from now.
The next show Im interested in watching is Mad Men. I'm so very happy to get that over with. The show should have ended in it's seven year itch, but because AMC wanted to stuff some more money in their pockets, they bitch slapped the audience by shelving half a season. This means another year of Mad Men inspired clothing lines at the mall and machismo car commercials where an impeccably groomed man is making ladies swoon upon his drive by, however, he's oblivious because he's so captivated by his own reflection in the side mirror.
My Southern accent will be gone by the time Mad Men starts up, which is unfortunate because I would have enjoyed commenting on Don Draper, and his rumored mammoth hamm panini. I'd spend the show clutching a hankie at my chin uttering, "My Lawd. Francis Underwood would be a pig in poop right now!"

Choo Choo