Wednesday, January 09
You suck. You suck not just because I completely support the writer's strike, but because you selfish jackasses have caused a strike when it's winter and it's drizzly outside and it gets dark really early and when I DON'T HAVE CABLE ANYMORE!
At first it was an opportunity for me to take a break from the amount television I watch. It was a good lesson. My house has been cleaner and stayed cleaner than it ever has before. I've been cooking. Even made bread. Caught up on some of my reading. Organized my DVD and CD collections. Scraped peeling paint off a bedroom door.
However, it's now to the point on the to-do list where my choices are to make my own laundry detergent or paint the freshly-scraped bedroom door and watch it dry.
Oh, but don't go thinking that I've been worn down and will start to side with you. I'm still behind the writers 100%. Union yes. Power to the people and all that other stuff. Just know that when I get to the point on my list where I start macrameying things out of dog fur, I'm sending them all to you.
Your first season far exceeded my expectations. Your second season was good. Your third season was, well, dreadful. This season seemed to be back on track, but after last night I'm not so sure. Each episode's theme that ties all the plotlines together has always been a bit heavy-handed, but I've adjusted. Last night's episode, however, surpassed heavy-handed. Last night was more smack-me-in-the-mouth-with-a-mackerel. Because from what I could tell - or should I say, WAS TOLD, by every character on the screen - the theme last night was FAITH. In fact, I think the script went something like this:
Oy vey. I need a mackerel-ectomy. Stat.
I thought you were cancelled. Are you sure you weren't cancelled? If not, please know I can't handle the idea of CIA Seceret Agent Michael Vaughn and White House Deputy Communications Director Will Bailey existing anywhere in the television universe as smarmy Suits.
And apparently neither can a lot of other people. Because, seriously, I thought you were cancelled. Please look into it. Thanks.
Although I always found you amusing, I never watched you on a regular basis. Even now in reruns I usually opt for something else. As a result, I had never seen the Halloween episode where the grandfather dresses up as Frankenstein's Monster. Until the other night. Something made me switch over just in time to see your little homage to Peter Boyle's part in the funniest movie ever made. Seeing that and knowing he's no longer with us brought a little tear to my eye. As my brother says about that episode, "I always hope at some point he'll say 'Puuuuuiiiin un eh Riiiiiz.' But he never does." I guess I'll be sure to check you out more often now just in case it ever happens :)
Sunday, January 13
Dear Wife Swap, Crowned: The Mother of All Pageants, American Gladiators, and The Moment of Truth:
I'm not completely certain just yet, but I'm pretty sure that you are the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Monday, January 14
I was actually excited to see that you were on. No offense, but that kind of scares me. Don't get me wrong, you make nice background noise to fold laundry too, but I'm just not that into you. When I saw your initial promos I was hoping at worst for Dawson's Road - er, I mean - Creek and at best for a TV version of Beautiful Girls, and well, let's just say that hasn't really happened. I have been confused about something though and wanted to ask you about it for some time now. Are you supposed to be set in the past or do all 20-somethings in New England blue collar towns listen to classic rock from the 70s? It's very confusing. Key songs in these characters' lives are often too old for them to be believable. Last night two of your young characters were listening to the Bay City Rollers. Really? Now, if there was a melodrama about 20-somethings in a small blue-collar town in the South, I'm sure everyone would be listening to Lynard Skynard or Hank Williams Sr. so I shouldn't be too hard on you. But enough already.
Tuesday, January 15
Help me. You're my only hope.
Is there a Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse that I'm not aware of?
P. S. Please tell Darren Star that I think Candace Bushnell should not only sue him, but that she and Sarah Jessica Parker should hold him down in the middle of Park Avenue and beat him with a Prada bag and a pair of Christian Louboutins.
Until next week or the strike is over ...