Poor, insane, bewildered Victoria Jackson and her assemble-it-yourself talk show set. This is probably the strangest thing I've seen in I don't know how long, but I have to say, I've always believed that she (and the people like her) are the best mouth pieces we have.
Remember, the more the American public hears this drivel, especially this younger generation, the more they see themselves in the mirror. They see a reflection of exactly how they DON'T want to turn out. How they don't want to think, act, behave, or travel through the world.
Jackson, dressed like a drunk Shirley Partridge, does some bizarre ukulele song about Lesbians being like heroin addicts, and then retires to her chairs by Target, with her "coffee colored co-host", and some guy in an undershirt. They then begin the gay rhetoric you've been hearing since the 1950's, sprinkled with a few nutty one liners from our hostess. If you watch nothing, do yourself a favor, and at least stay tuned through the end of the song, and the complete idiocy of Victoria's reaction to her co-host's first quip. It's worth it, trust me.
So...live on, Ms. Jackson. Keep speaking your truth from the place you believe is Holy. It only serves to make the message of true freedom and pure understanding that much more clear.
Thank you, Victoria. You are one relevant and hot suburban grandma.
(Please lose the turban)