So, that singing reality show was apparently starting a new season, and Jono had... procured... an episode. Mostly out of curiosity, admittedly. He wasn't really big on reality television, especially of the singing persuasion, since it still rubbed a sort of sore spot now that that sort of thing was pretty much all you could find on MTV these days. And he'd managed to successfully swear off the damn things until...
Well, until now. Right now, he had staked out a place on the Couch that Comfort Forgot, and had even attempted to pad out the offending anti-comfort zone with a few extra pillows and a couple of thick blankets. Joni had found her way over and was in the process of saying hello, if only because she was curious about the food that Hannibal had brought over. (Hannibal had asked if Jono had any requests. Jono wasn't certain how asking for 'I dunno, haven't had strawberries in ages' had led to a pork dish, some manner of salad, and a tart, but he supposed at the end of the day, he wasn't actually the one who had to eat it.)
//You know, I don't trust that one judge. There's such a thing as too pretty,// Jono decided, attempting to dislodge the cat from where she had her claws suck in the sofa, //and I don't think I like his pointy little nose.//
That was his professional opinion, as somebody who was also possessive of a nose.
[OOC: For that guy with the strawberries! Or the roommates, if they want to crash. They live here too, after all.]
- The Apartment Above the Groovy Tunes, Wednesday Evening