Apparently one of the consolation prizes in some beauty pageants is a title of Miss Congeniality.
For some reason that title has always felt like the name of some fetid swamp monster to me. Maybe because the words closest to “congeniality” that pop to my mind are “congestion” and “congenital”, as in “nasal congestion” and “congenital abnormality”.
Apparently the title’s sometimes called Miss Amity, too.
Eh, Amity as in Amityville?
It’s a good thing I don’t watch beauty contents — but the real reason is that I just don’t have the necessary eye for ranking such rictus-wearing puffy meat puppets. I need only take a walk outside to see women more beautiful than those.
Oh, and then again watching something on TV isn’t a great temptation since I don’t have one — but I promise to rethink once they get going with “Survivor: Cannibal Island”.
