I love working late every night, but I especially love it on nights like tonight, when the cleaning lady looks over my shoulder skeptically as she empties my garbage can, only to see me looking at a clip of Tickle Me Elmo TMX on YouTube. Listen, I don't need her or ANYONE ELSE judging me, especially as I delve into...
JEANETTE'S TELEVISION STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS, the Wednesday after edition.
Firstly, I am sick of sticking up for the integrity of Studio 60. I feel like it is the new kid in town who also happens to be my cousin, and my grandpa has offered me a shiny, Susan B. Anthony dollar for every time I can get cus a new friend. While I do think last Monday's show was awkward in how hurriedly it wrapped up the Nevada based story line (We hardly knew ya, John Goodman cameo), I still was literally looking forward all week to the conclusion of the two-parter.
Secondly, WOAH, who else is shaking in their pajama pants about what Gregory House's Cop-elganger is going to do to him? The bonds between House and his newfound nemesis strengthened this week as David Morse's character, Michael Tritter, uttered words so familar to House's pursedly narrow yet alluring lips: Everybody lies. They're both right. I lie...in bed each night awaiting for Hugh Laurie to be right beside me...what?
And Thirdly, what in tarnation was going on with Nip/Tuck last night? In a ploy so cliché we have seen it as recently as last year's series finale of Will & Grace, we got a glimpse into the future (the future, Conan?) with an episode entitled "Conor McNamara 2026." I was glad to see that the best looking midget ever was still in the picture 20 years later (Oh come on, I dare you to tell me I am the only one to think Peter Dinklage is hot! I mean he's no Matt Roloff but WHATEVER!) Also, I think in order to research the future, Nip/Tuck had their staff writers have a Jetsons marathon (They probably could have done this at my apartment since this is one show that has made it to Vivian's DVRing list). I find it hard to believe that people will be eating meals that consist of piles of multi-colored mush like Sean and Christian were in ONLY 20 YEARS. I can't wait until it actually is 2026 so that the writers can feel the same embarassment as George Orwell's ghost did when the real 1984 actually looked like this:
Also, David Lang...oh nevermind.
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