I am currently playing phone tag with recruiter. She has a counteroffer for me, but my stupid cell phone isn't working inside the building today. And it's cold and rainy outside. Ugh.
I absolutely insist, right now, today, stomp-foot, that the idiots at RCA obtain some decent songs for Clay Aiken. I am officially obsessed with this cd, for the small moments when his voice hits that low growly note that makes my innards twist in a remarkably pleasant way. But the music and songs basically stink. Somebody get that boy back to Neil Sedaka or Burt Bacharach, or, dare I say it? Barry Manilow. I need to hear that voice in its unadulterated state, not filtered through somebody's idea of teenybopper pop boyband crap.
And hey! Try this on for size:
Spike has not taken Cordelia's role, but instead, occupies Connor's role. Angel's got one more shot at being a good father...
(one way to explain the horrendous reversion to S2 and earlier accent and behavior in the Cheekboned One)