Now he's got his own game show....

REMOTE CONTROL!

Does anyone other than my own pathetic self remember this horrible show from old school MTV? Ken Ober, hosting a show about...TV trivia, I think...and if one of the stoner contestants answered incorrectly their recliner plummeted to some unknown location below the set.

In any case, it was the theme song to this show that kept replaying itself in my mind as I was lying awake in bed last night. An earworm, I believe, is the appropriate name for such a thing.

Sleep is such a rare commodity these days. Between a cough that I'm pretty sure is related to tuberculosis, heartburn that I'm confident could qualify as torture in a POW camp, and a fetus who has decided that the underside of my lungs seems like a nifty place to take up residence for the next 2 1/2 months, I don't sleep much. When I don't sleep I tend to think about the strangest things. Like sex. Why is sex so strange? 'Cause I'm not having it, and I'm pretty sure I've forgotten how to do it. See the reasons for my lack of sleep.

I also get on a kick with a game I like to call "I wonder..." It's played like this:
I wonder what Barbra Streisand is doing RIGHT NOW? Is she sleeping? If so, does she sleep on her back, her stomach, her side? What's on her nightstand? Does she get up in the middle of the night to have a snack? I wish I could have a snack right now, but if I did then that would mean starting the inhumane cycle of acid backup into my eyeballs, and really, it's too cold to get out of bed. But I really want a Stringsters. I wonder if Barbra eats Stringsters?

And I could sit there (or prop up in bed with 6 pillows, as the case may be) for minutes or hours and obsess and borderline mind-stalk poor Ms. Streisand until A) I fall asleep, or 2) someone else pops into my mind.

Like Susan and Olivia from the original Sesame Street gang. Last night I couldn't stop wondering what happened to these two ladies. Almost everyone else from the old gang is still on the show - with the exception of Mr. Hooper, God rest his soul - but not these two ladies. Did they move on to bigger and better streets? Did they get into a fight with one of the puppets? Oscar too much of a grouch? I don't get it. Where are they? Maria and Luis and Bob and Gordon (Gordon has a grown child! Susan, come back to your son!) and Deaf Linda are all still there - ladies, come back!

I could sit here and Google all day long to find the whereabouts of these gals, but the whiff of fresh poop beckons, signaling that nap time is over. Such is life.