Our hero (me) watches tv…

The Shield is good television. Just about the best television on the air currently. It is gripping and smart and funny and only occasionally gratuitous. The first three years were just about as solid as television gets.

Now starting it’s fourth season, the show had slowed down. Which is only to be expected. After three breakneck seasons it had to take time to regroup. And I think it has, successfully. After two weak episodes, the third of the season was fairly kick-ass. Any show that can convincingly make the eviction of a poor woman and her two young children seem virtuous has my respect.

Due South, the unexpectedly excellent cop/mountie show of the mid-nineties, featured David Marciano as Ray, the streetwise cop sidekick. He was a good character. I was happy to see Marciano resurface on The Shield. His new character, Steve, could be the same character as Ray. When Vic Mackey says “Steve” I hear “Ray.” It all makes me want to write Due South/ The Shield/ The Commish fanfic. Slash fanfic.

Morgan Spurlock, of the surprise hit documentary Supersize Me, has been given his own series. He does a thing repeatedly for 30 days and documents the ensuing hilarity. He’s one lucky bitch to score such a gig.

“I want to have sex with you, The Commish,” said Ray.
“Ok,” said the Commish.
They had sex.

Why in the name of our holy mother, Eris, does Catherine Zeta Jones have to spend her time hucking telephones?

The Shield has cussing. The characters frequently are heard saying things such thing as as “dick” and “shit.” My grandmother would not approve. But they never say “fuck.” What is the power of this word that makes it so terribly off limits? If someone isn’t offended by “Suck my dick, shithead,” why would they be offended by “Suck my dick you fuckin’ shithead”? I don’t get it.

I want to see The Wire.

Next week on Our Hero Watches TV:
Isaac watches The Wire. More bad slash ensues?

Tuesday

My mood is so good today. I am incoherently happy.

I got no more than 1.5 hours of uninterrupted sleep throughout the night. I am so tired. So tired that being awake is AWESOME!!! The world is so much fuller in the half-lucid plane of sleep deprivation.

And the weather is fantastic! It feels like spring. I mean, really feels like spring. Which is one of the top five feeling that there be.

I took the morning off of work to buy discounted video games. I got some good games, and I got to visit my video store for one last time. Roadrunner Video is dearer to my heart than any other institution created by man. The specific location I fell in love with is long gone, and now one more is soon to close its doors forever. I will, and do, miss it fiercely, but today it felt like visiting an old friend once more before the end.

Combine all of these things with the old mix tapes I’ve been listening to, add some fresh punk rock and you get the sort of good day I haven’t had for a while.

Happy Tuesday, everybody. Viva La Fluff!

A Letter to Brian

Ok Brian. I can deal with the fact that you have a crush on Mandy Moore. I knew about it when I agreed to marry you. I loved you even though I knew you had this obsession. I know you hate that word, but it is an obsession. You are going to have to face that.

I was willing to indulge you with the bedroom roleplaying. I think that sort of thing is healthy. God knows there are some things I would have liked to try. But you only ever want to play the one game, and you always wanted to play it. The Mandy game.

It wasn’t until you stared referring to me exclusively as “Mandy” that I realized your obsession might be a real problem. I tried to talk to you about it, Brian, but you wouldn’t listen.

And the realization that you had told all of your friends that my name was “Mandy” was creepy. Maybe I should have left you at that point.

Instead, it wasn’t until you asked me to wear that damn mask that I realized how thoroughly hopeless you were. I mean, Jesus Brian. You would really have me wear a brown paper bag with “Mandi More” written on it in black magic marker? At our wedding?

I’m giving you back your ring. I will never be the woman you want me to be.

Mallory

Originally published at The Triangle. You can comment here or there.

A Letter to Brian

Ok Brian. I can deal with the fact that you have a crush on Mandy Moore. I knew about it when I agreed to marry you. I loved you even though I knew you had this obsession. I know you hate that word, but it is an obsession. You are going to have to face that.

I was willing to indulge you with the bedroom roleplaying. I think that sort of thing is healthy. God knows there are some things I would have liked to try. But you only ever want to play the one game, and you always wanted to play it. The Mandy game.

It wasn’t until you stared referring to me exclusively as “Mandy” that I realized your obsession might be a real problem. I tried to talk to you about it, Brian, but you wouldn’t listen.

And the realization that you had told all of your friends that my name was “Mandy” was creepy. Maybe I should have left you at that point.

Instead, it wasn’t until you asked me to wear that damn mask that I realized how thoroughly hopeless you were. I mean, Jesus Brian. You would really have me wear a brown paper bag with “Mandi More” written on it in black magic marker? At our wedding?

I’m giving you back your ring. I will never be the woman you want me to be.

Mallory

I can’t argue with her logic

Isaac: That’s Meatwad, that’s Frylock, and that’s their leader, Masta Shake. They’re detectives!

Coworker: Yep it’s like Spongebob.

Isaac: No, Spongbob is written for children, enjoyed by adults. Aqua Teens is written for adults, enjoyed by childish adults. It’s like, have you ever seen Space Ghost?

Coworker: Oh yeah. Space Ghost is Great.

Isaac: It’s a lot like Space Ghost.

Coworker: Oh, no it isn’t! Space Ghost isn’t fast food!