Monk

cathode life (warning: this entry consists of the dull minutiae that gives blogs a bad name)

When you live alone, there is a danger that you will end up relating more comfortably with your cats and your television than you do with real people. That's probably news to no-one.
I have lately found myself during the day thinking about what I'm going to watch on TV in the evening and what I need to get done before and after:
"There's that Kennedy thing on PBS. I should be able to get dinner made and the litter box cleaned, but the dishes'll have to wait 'til tomorrow, 'cause I know I'll be too wasted after the Kennedy's to do 'em tonight".

Last night, it was the West Wing. It has become the show that Monk must watch. If someone asks me to do something during Wing Time, I'll vaguely say that it's not a good time for me, to avoid the embarrassment of admitting that I plan my life around a TV show.
Normally I avoid television dramas. All these Law and Order shows bore me and make me nostalgic for a good crime show, like Ironsides or Rockford Files. Y'know, realism.
But the West Wing has me hooked. For a lefty for whom presidential debates are like the Super Bowl is for regular guys, the West Wing is porn. Instead of fantasizing that Jenna Jameson is sucking my dick, I fantasize that Jack Bartlett is... my president.
At least that's what I told my cat.
If anyone out there watches That Seventies Show, have you noticed that it seems like it's turning into That Wonderful Life? Think about it: Eric is going to get stuck in the dull Wisconsin town he lives in while all his friends go off and achieve great things, etc.
Also, they pulled a Darren- Eric's sister was on the other day, except it wasn't Eric's sister! The old one was better, but they must have had problems with her since she was written out early. I don't know what kind of problems they could have had. The part really only calls for two things, and as long they are both generally round and have one nipple each, we've got a ringer!
I hate myself for loving Donna. A bland character portrayed by a bad actress, what's to love? Well, for starters she's like seven feet tall and a redhead and has that permanent look of being slightly stoned, which I find quite charming.
It would never work out, though. The cats don't seem to like her.

Posted by monk at 20.11.03 08:27