I watch Good Times every night. Yes, that Good Times... JJ, Thelma, Wilona, James...
Right before I go the bed; I pull up an episode on my DVR. Ray gets mad about me recording them since I own all the seasons on DVD. Oh well, he'll get over it.
I've seen every episode 3.1478093372028373y1-18472828282828 times. I never get tired of that show. It literally warms my soul. Something about poor people living in the ghetto and never getting out; makes me feel all good and toasty inside. (Well, they do get out. But, that's the last episode.)
Ray coaxed me into participating in this fast with him. We can only eat fresh fruit and veggies. We can have egg whites and oatmeal for breakfast. I was game for that. However, he added in the stipulation of giving up radio and TV. NO TV!!!! Yikes, what did I get myself into?
I'm dying. Well, really I'm not. I can't believe that I'm missing (in no particular order:
Daddy's Girls, The Bachelor, American Idol, Intervention, Real World, The Real Housewives of OC, LOST...
Most importantly, I'm missing the Evans family.
No worries, I'll be back to TV Friday after 5.
I can't wait to turn that DVR on and catch up. More importantly, I can't wait to get in that bed, pull those covers down, get in, rub my feet together, and fall asleep (with my glasses on) to some soulful woman singing:
"Ain't we lucky we got em.... Good Times!!! Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyy".