Me: Oh crap, The Simspons is a repeat, I've already seen it.
Her: What about the Grammy's?
Me: What about them?
Her: We could watch them.
Me: We could also forcibly insert hot pokers into my eyes and anus, and even though that's less painful than your suggestion, we're not going to do it. Besides, who gives a shit about the Grammy's? They're completely pointless! Why would you want to watch them?
Her: To see the dresses and stuff...
Me: (puts on simpsons)
9pm rolled around - which meant Iron Chef America, natch. But then 10 rolled around and we found ourselves in the same room finally... and watching the Grammy's. I figured if I had to suffer through it, maybe I could at least ruin it for her too.
During Kanye's performance - the first song was "stronger" he had on these neon-lit, insanely bright sunglasses
Now imagine those sunglasses brighter than the sun.
Me: Wouldn't that hurt your eyes?
Me: I wonder if he's retarded. I imagine one would have to be to think wearing neon sunglasses is a good idea. Just think of the potential retinal damage. And this song doesn't really translate that well to the stage, considering he says like four words, and the rhymes are like that of a 5th grader.
Her: This was a bad idea... please shut up.
Me: And now what's with the Tron brothers playing backup fake instruments? You know those things aren't shit but set decorations. This is a farce.
He then went on to perform "Hey Mama"... During this performance, I noticed he had what appeared to be a word shorn into the back of his head...
Me: What's that on his head?
Her: I think it says "MAMA"
Me: Hmmm... couldn't he have just shaved "Pussy" or if he wanted to keep it to four letters, "homo"?
Her: His mom just died!!!!!
Me: What does that have to do with him being a huge pussy?
She then hit me.
And during Mr. Andrea Bocelli's performance, the exchange went something like this:
Me: Is something wrong with his eyes? He hasn't opened them once.
Her (fearing she was being baited): shut up.
Me: What? Seriously, it just seems weird and maybe even a little rude to be honored in such a way and not have the decency to look the crowd in the eyes is all.
Her (somehow just now realizing I am being an asshole): Ok shut up, are you trying to see if I know he's blind so you can make fun of me, or are you just being a dick?
Me: A little of column A, a little of column B. But seriously, coulldn't he at least be nice enough to wear sunglasses? That shit is distracting as all get out.
Her: You're unbelieveable.
Her: I hate you.
Me: I wonder what's going on under those eyes
Her: I was just thinking the same thing.
Me: Yea, you think he has eye balls and pupils or like, bloody gaping holes he can scare children with? Or like, interchangeable glass eyes with like, one he could even keep a gold fish in?
Her: Ok, I wasn't thinking the same thing.
Me: Durn tootin'... anyway, you know he doesn't or else why would he have his eyes closed right now.
And then to cap off the evening, I was relieved to have my hatred for the Grammy's renewed with the following exchange (In reference to a portion of the show I missed watching Iron Chef Cat Cora have her ass tarred and feathered in battle chocolate):
Her: I was glad Rhianna won, I like her so much.
Me: Oh, that is just stupendous - what did she win a Grammy for?
Her: Umm... I don't know. Umbrella.
Me: Oh, so best umbrella related song of the year? Are there new categories now? Sweet.
Her: Shut up, all I know is it was up against Kanye.
Me: So best umbrella related and/or Kanye song. A little specific for an award category, I should think. But you were right, the Grammy's aren't a complete waste of time.
Her: God, I hate you.
Me: I bet you remember what color her dress was when she accepted the award though, and that's what really matters.