It's amazing, the things you learn about yourself when you spend your Friday night alone, drinking Fort Lauderdales* and preparing mass quantities of baked chicken breasts and brown rice.

For instance, it turns out that I'm obsessed with Mandy Moore's debut album So Real. Praised upon its release as "mediocre" and "typical," this 14-track tour de force is the apotheosis of charmingly subpar late 90s mass-produced teen pop. OK, so maybe her 16-year-old dick-sucking lips hinted at a certain je ne sais quoi in the music video, but we all knew "Candy" had "one-time use" written all over it, both serviceable and practical, like dental floss or a condom. Not as bad as Willa Ford's "I Wanna Be Bad," but still.

And yet, here I am, eight years later, making deliciously ironic lemonade out of what the masses have deemed a culturally irrelevant lemon! Sure, even Mandy herself described So Real as "so bad," and I'm not about to argue otherwise. But I needed a guilty pleasure to get me through the night, and between So Real, a new episode of "Jerry" in which a woman attributes her infidelity to a voodoo hex, and Edy's Girl Scouts Tagalongs ice cream, I passed out on Friday a happy man.

*Crystal Light and vodka, the signature drink of Agatha and Toby.