Are you serious? You awaken the unused 80% of your brain and that’s what you do with it? You become a Wall Street Douchebag (WSD). Who wrote this a 15 year old? This is another example of ManBaby Syndrome. It’s a good thing Bradley Cooper’s face pleases me so, or I wouldn’t have made it through that. But he is dreamy…
Cause I’ve got all kinds of shit to say about tv.
Like:
Do we really need another Bosom Buddies type show?
I love 30 Rock and I’m obsessed with it right now.
There’s a new Revenge on tonight, horray!
I don’t know if I’m going keep up with American Horror Story.
I read a review of the show that referred to it as a violent Leverage. I guess. If Leverage didn’t have characters that I love despite its incessant use of hokey music. Breakout Kings is a lower rent version of Leverage populated by people who yell too much and don’t seem to buy their own hypothesis.
It’s a show about a couple of federal marshals (one of which is from The Wire) who assemble a team of convicts to catch a dangerous escaped con. By helping, they get to move to a minimum security jail and get a month knocked off of their sentences for every con recovered. The convicts are a genius, a con, an “entrepreneur” (drug dealer, he’s the black one), and an unlicensed big game hunter (the hitter I assumed). Now the white marshal dude is not really a marshal anymore because he stole some money and lives in a halfway house (which I deduced is a secret from the cons, but I learned that from the previews of the coming weeks). The other one (the brown one) is a desk jockey who is antagonistic to everyone, seems to be on a massive bureaucratic ego trip and was seen taking some pills in a bathroom then seeming woozy afterwards (with no explanation).
The cons are the most interesting thing about the show so far. The genius dude is a former child prodigy, professor, problem gambler and mama’s boy with a breast fetish. The con woman…has no personality and I guess only uses her sexuality to get men to do what she wants (I have been spoiled by Sophie on Leverage who’s mastery of understanding human behaviors make her beauty more interesting). I saw on the previews that she’s getting replaced. Then there’s the “entrepreneur” who wasn’t given a lot to do, but at least put a mark on where the character was going. I’m interested in him. The hitter dude was only in it for like 10 minutes and ended up getting left in a diner. What was the point of that?
Why introduce characters in a pilot you’ll never see again when you’re trying to entice people to commit their hard earned time to your show. It feels like a bunch of people who grew up in the ’90’s and don’t know how good scripted drama feels. They make the same assumptions about our intelligence as the rest of the media. In promos they tout big explosions and chases. I can watch disaster porn or The French Connection for that. I want to see some complex characters whose actions make sense and moves a cohesive storyline forward. White marshal should know that.
It felt like they’d made a 2h pilot and cut it down to the loud parts because shouting always makes me stay glued to the screen. The characters don’t like or trust each other. And I know, I know, they will learn to as their lives become more entwined, I know, I know. But the problem with that is that I didn’t like or care about them either. I love asking why when watching drama. I love a witty aside. I love explosions and ingenious prison breaks as much as the next guy. But if you want me every week to look at your commercials, you have to give me some compelling characters that at least can act like they like themselves so I can like them too.
So no, it’s not Leverage which had me from the first episode. They were smart and funny and had great chemistry. Now the music is too cheesy and omnipresent, but I still grow to love the characters despite the editor. Despite. I’ll give Breakout Kings one more chance. But they’d better hurry up. Once it’s spring, it’s going to be hard to keep my attention unless you’re like Supernatural.
I get so intimidated reading other people’s TV/Film type blogs. They’re so organized. I don’t always have something to say about every show I see. I watch way too much TV for that. So, from now on, I’m just going to write what the fuck I want to on here. I’m not monetized or anything and if someone wants to follow or comment, so be it.
So here are my new favorite shows in no particular order:
Top Chef All Stars: My boyfriends Spike and Fabio are gone, but Carla’s still there and that pleases me. I also think I’m a little hooked because I’ve decided Padma looks and acts like my mom. So pretty.
Good Wife: As my friend Tanisha and I say “Good Wife Good”. It is. It’s an adult show with adult people and adult problems. Even the kids have adult problems and that’s like 1000% better than most alleged network dramas.
Damages: I know it’s not new yet, but I’m reliving it with a padawan and it’s fun to see it through new eyes. Since I’ve seen all of them I get to see how strong the storylines are and how well they have been followed. The character development is complex (even Rose Byrne impresses me with her Keanu Reeves style of acting).
RuPaul’s Drag Race: Well, duh and/or hello. No explanation needed. Drag queens competing. RuPaul. Every show should be this good.
Archer: I had something for this. It’s one of the most fucked up 1/2h going. And many of my new catchphrases come from it [see duh and/or hello above].
*tiny, tiny writing* Vampire Diaries: Leave the 17 year old girl inside me alone. It’s not her fault. Boone from Lost is on it and she loves Boone. Get over yourselves. And it’s what I watch with my little sister (and a few select adult friends).
SUPERNATURAL: I have no shame in my love of Dean. I love him. I love him. I love him. But I’ve always had a soft spot for a bowlegged man. The angels, demons, monsters, Lucifer (Jacob from Lost), Death…I mean really. What’s there to not like? Before I watched it and saw the commercials I’d get mad that I’d wasted time on that fucking Heroes and had missed the beginning of Supernatural. I’d say “man, that show looks good” and I had no idea what I’d been missing. And it’s all meta. It makes me feel like my masters in media studies wasn’t a waste. (Though daily the job market insures me it was.)
30 Rock: For all the obvious reasons. It makes me miss going to work sometimes too.
I guess I don’t write because I don’t feel like I have anything to say. I’ve started a storytelling night at my local bar, but still don’t think what I have to say is important. It’s a problem. I don’t even have a story to tell next Monday, and it’s my damn night. Arghh.
I feel like all of this is bullshit. What’s the point of any of it? I’m feeling very doomsday machine about the entire existence. I guess that’s what depression is, but the side effects of the anti depression meds sound like a hangover to me and drinking’s much more fun.
I kinda want to tell a story about sex, but really? I can scant remember what that’s even like. What about my childhood? Well if I’m drunk enough, which already says a lot about that story. I don’t have any new stories to tell except what lives in my head. Not having much cash has limited my movements. FALSE. Freaking out about money and having the darkness living just over my head has limited my movements. This is NYC and I’m smart enough to find free shit.
What do I want to say? That I don’t believe in the life I was bred to live. I think the whole system is going down in flames so why try to run a losing race? I can see through the illusion of a middle class ideal and what I interpret as the plastic boringness of it. It seems stupid to continue applying for jobs I don’t want that I never hear back from anyway. The questioning of the choices I’ve made. Fighting hard to move forward and find my own way. All with $37 to my name.
I’m exhausted and feel like it’s only going to get worse. I don’t believe that all the time and it’s not ingrained in my core. Yet the active part of me gets paralyzed and overwhelmed by it. I have no security anywhere. I have no job, my rent’s always late, my family’s moved from my childhood home, and the part that makes me mad to write- I’m single.
It makes me mad because I don’t like to identify with the idea that a man would make any of that easier. [Yet see the sex comment above.]
I’m going to see Liza tonight and maybe her abject crazyness will inspire me to get over myself and stop the voice that tells me it’s all worthless.
Happy post Kiddo, happy post.
There’s only so much boozing and vegging out I can do. I’m now DYING to got to work somewhere. I just sent out an invitation to my favorite podcast The Risk Show to be an intern. And I’m totally jazzed about it. I hope they accept. My new resume has filled me with confidence. Wish me luck.
At least I have an excuse to not write, unlike before.
To recap:
1. I still can’t even begin to deal with Heroes. It’s out of my DVR.
2. Last night’s Lost was the best ever. I promise to expand later, but I must admit I enjoy reading everyone else’s posts about it more.
3. Good Wife’s good.
4. Something really bad’s gonna happen to Glen Close on Damages.
5. Jay Leno’s an asshole, right?
That is all for now. But now that I have to work, all I want to do is go home, watch TV and write. Go fig.
Look, I’ve been avoiding all this Tiger Woods business until I read a really great blog about it today on the heels of talking about “important” news stories I’d missed the last couple of weeks with my kid sister. While I had to google Adam Lambert (I don’t Idol), I knew that Tiger’d been in a car accident. Megalomaniacal me said “nobody cares when I hurt myself” so I ignored it.
Then I started hearing about affairs, mistresses coming out of the woodwork, the wife chasing him with golf clubs and smashing windows. That’s interesting, but no. I’m going to remain on my moral high ground and continue to ignore. I’ve lived through enough sex scandals to know that unless someone’s been living under the bed in a dog collar, it’s just fodder.
I told The Kid last night that if one of the mistresses was named Darshawnqa with long airbrushed nails and hair sculpture- then I’d be interested. But this morning I read this from one of my favorite blogs and I paused (and laughed at the video). But only long enough to write this post.
In conclusion, he’s 33 years old and been playing professional golf since he was a teen. He hasn’t had a life. Leave him alone. Who cares. Now I’m part of the problem, but enough is enough already. He likes pussy. Let him be. He’s not the first or last professional athlete to cheat. I think the over arching statement of pro athletes should be that they’re going to cheat on their spouses. The ones that don’t- they’re the exceptions. If I went from town to town with women throwing themselves at me- I’d probably be too tired to even play whatever game I’m getting paid for.
THAT IS ALL.
Look, I’ve been avoiding all this Tiger Woods business until I read a really great blog about it today on the heels of talking about “important” news stories I’d missed the last couple of weeks with my kid sister. While I had to google Adam Lambert (I don’t Idol), I knew that Tiger’d been in a car accident.Megalomaniacal me said “nobody cares when I hurt myself” so I ignored it.
Then I started hearing about affairs, mistresses coming out of the woodwork, the wife chasing him with golf clubs and smashing windows. That’s interesting, but no. I’m going to remain on my moral high ground and continue to ignore. I’ve lived through enough sex scandals to know that unless someone’s been living under the bed in a dog collar, it’s just fodder.
I told The Kid last night that if one of the mistresses was named Darshawnqa with long airbrushed nails and hair sculpture- then I’d be interested. But this morning I read this from one of my favorite blogs and I paused (and laughed at the video). But only long enough to write this post.
In conclusion, he’s 33 years old and been playing professional golf since he was a teen. He hasn’t had a life. Leave him alone. Who cares. Now I’m part of the problem, but enough is enough already. He likes pussy. Let him be. He’s not the first or last professional athlete to cheat. I think the over arching statement of pro athletes should be that they’re going to cheat on their spouses. The ones that don’t- they’re the exceptions. If I went from town to town with women throwing themselves at me- I’d probably be too tired to even play whatever game I’m getting paid for.
THAT IS ALL.
Look, I’ve been avoiding all this Tiger Woods business until I read a really great blog about it today on the heels of talking about “important” news stories I’d missed the last couple of weeks with my kid sister. While I had to google Adam Lambert (I don’t Idol), I knew that Tiger’d been in a car accident.Megalomaniacal me said “nobody cares when I hurt myself” so I ignored it.
Then I started hearing about affairs, mistresses coming out of the woodwork, the wife chasing him with golf clubs and smashing windows. That’s interesting, but no. I’m going to remain on my moral high ground and continue to ignore. I’ve lived through enough sex scandals to know that unless someone’s been living under the bed in a dog collar, it’s just fodder.
I told The Kid last night that if one of the mistresses was named Darshawnqa with long airbrushed nails and hair sculpture- then I’d be interested. But this morning I read this from one of my favorite blogs and I paused (and laughed at the video). But only long enough to write this post.
In conclusion, he’s 33 years old and been playing professional golf since he was a teen. He hasn’t had a life. Leave him alone. Who cares. Now I’m part of the problem, but enough is enough already. He likes pussy. Let him be. He’s not the first or last professional athlete to cheat. I think the over arching statement of pro athletes should be that they’re going to cheat on their spouses. The ones that don’t- they’re the exceptions. If I went from town to town with women throwing themselves at me- I’d probably be too tired to even play whatever game I’m getting paid for.
THAT IS ALL.
Working Class Sha(wo)man 