By Annie Barrett
Updated October 16, 2006 at 05:57 PM EDT

Over the weekend, I was slightly intoxicated and extremely ready for bed — which obviously meant that instead of falling asleep, I should see what was playing on the ol’ DVR/life partner. It was at this beautiful moment (~4:30 a.m. ET) that I discovered The Vault on VH1 Classic.

My roommate and I began channel surfing, but it was the kind where neither person could actually handle the burden of the remote. We kept passing it off to each other like a relay baton. The exchanges were smooth, but fading fast, were definitely in last place of the race. And then: The Vault. An obscure Laura Branigan video. We sat in rapturous silence for three minutes not knowing what in God’s name we were watching. But there were the credits. “That was Laura Branigan?” we spat out. And it was. We had just salivated over every single frame of extreme bangs, masked dance sequences, and closeups of heeled ankle boots in a Laura Branigan video. We were so cool.

After a similarly life-changing viewing of “Sheriff Fatman” by Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine, it was settled. I’m recording The Vault whenever it’s on (most mornings, 4-6 a.m.). I no longer have beef with VH1 Classic, which used to play the same videos in the same order at least twice a day. (People may need to see the Traveling Wilburys perform live once a day, but that’s it.)

Who’s with me on The Vault? And what noncommittal programming do you zone out in front of when you have barely an attention span and/or pulse?