Quick! Someone Hand This Child an Emmy!
Madonna once opined that "Music makes the people come together", but my glee at the end of yesterday's episode of AMC reminded me that there's another great unifier in this world: complete and utter hatred of the Carey women.
Because I'm not going to lie, other than Olympic swimming, nothing on television (and certainly nothing on AMC, unless you count the closing credits) has been as awesome as watching Kathy be adorable
cunningly pretend to apologize to Krystal and her cleavage for locking her out of the house
and, while Tad, Krystal and her halfwit brother and sister smugly congratulate themselves for dealing with the problem child with such grace and brilliance,
rip the head off of the "Krystal" doll she was playing with
Loved it. If the Emmys were worth anything but hours and angst for me and Becca, Alexa Gerasimovich and Braden Walkes would be award recipients.
I have only been paying half hearted attention to the rest of the show lately, because I'm irritated that Zach and Kendall can't get their OWN story away from the Ryan/Annie/Greenlee thing and I hate that they are blatantly rehashing the Ryan/Greenlee/Kendall story again with Annie this time and I don't understand the purpose of Randi or why they won't buy her acting lessons. So...roughly eighty percent of the show. But if Kathy continues to be devilishly hilarious and if Adam continues to plot nefariously and if Petey continues to be AWESOME, I may change my tune.