Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Come Sit Next to Me

I've restrained myself from commenting on the DRAMA at GMA for two weeks. Those of you sick of me talking about it: tough crap. I know what I like when I see it, and I like seeing Chris Cuomo every weekday morning.
You know the line from Steel Magnolias... if you don't have anything nice to say about somebody, come sit next to me. Well... anonymous GMA "staffers" last week were quoted as having suggested that Chris Cuomo's interview with Chaz Bono (F-M trans guy who's the son of Sonny Bono and Cher... keep up...) was something that George Stephanopoulos couldn't pull off. You know I'm loving that trash talk! The Business Insider poo-poos the suggestion that George couldn't let his hair down to have a meaningful on-air conversation with an F-M trans dude. I respectfully disagree (those assholes). George looks uncomfortable discussing merely domestic politics without mentioning geopolitical implications. Cooking with Emeril and talking hormone replacement with Chaz is not something that George is ever going to make entertaining. And besides, we need to think of Sam. I don't think Sam Champion could emotionally cope with no longer picking out neckties for Chris in the morning.
Those assholes at The Daily Beast (nothing personal... I just get pissed when I get bad news) are reporting that the tide is turned and the GMA anchor spot is George's. The Beast also says that Chris is running in second, and if negotiations with George fall through, Chris is likely to get tapped. So one of two things needs to happen now. 1) Something really, really bad needs to befall George (I'm not wishin' it... I'm just saying...) that stunningly drops him out of the running (like he loses it on air and rubs Adam Lambert's face in his crotch, say). Or 2), just as fine with me, something really, really fantastic needs to happen to George that makes the GMA anchor seat seem like chump change. Can someone please convince him to run for office, or give him the news that his wife going to have quintuplets... anything?
As I've mentioned, in my mind the most reasonable way to settle this ponderous decision is a no-holds barred battle royale. And since we're discussing my mind, I've already written that story, and George is unceremoniously thrown over the top ropes, leaving Chris winded and coated in sweat, but indisputably the winner.
I like my drama better.

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