Vanna White

I’m runnning on the treadmill in the gym tonight (okay, who are we kidding, I don’t run. I walk briskly uphill at an incline of 8.0 at a rate of 2.4 ). I look up, observe Wheel of Fortune rounding out another terrifically unique episode, and say out loud to the husband, incredulously, “Does Vanna White sleep in an cryogenic chamber?”

Feeling proud of myself for such an astute and witty comment, and looking around to see if anyone else was listening, I cringe a split second later when I realize the word I meant to say was hyperbaric.

Sometimes I shouldn’t even try to be smart.

Have you seen Vanna lately though? Aside from some aging flap on her arms, which is perfectly normal for someone who’s 90, she’s rocking those gowns and letters like someone whose been doing it for decades.

Oh.

What will happen when she and Pat Sajak decide they’ve brought enough joy to television audiences? Will they just be replaced by animatronic figures? I kind of hope so.

Price is Right hasn’t been the same without Bob Barker groping all the live mannequins. Maybe that’s why he gave all that money to the “Whale Wars” people. Figured he could make up for his male transgressions by funneling five million dollars into saving whales. A lifetime of sexual harassment = 200 minkes avoiding the Japanese harpoon.

Fair trade, no?

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