Category Archives: apocalypse

Preparing for the apocalypse with snack cakes and disco balls.

We were talking about the end of the world at work the other day. You know. As you do.

Apparently, the Mayan end-of-the-world is December 21. I don’t know the details. Something about the Mayan calendar ending or something? I read a bunch of things and they were confusing. Something about some sort of period ending? And some people are all DOOM AND GLOOOOOM! and some people are all, um, yeah, that’s not how this works at all, people, you’re being weirdos. But you tell people the end of the world is nigh and people start freaking the hell OUT, yo. (And it’s not even about zombies! I know. Hard to fathom.)

Apparently this thing predicts our DOOOOOM. It looks like a prop from a Nicholas Cage movie.

Apparently this thing predicts our DOOOOOM. It looks like a prop from a Nicholas Cage movie.

Mostly I think the end of the world is hokum. I think we’re all going to have an end of the world; it’ll happen at different times for all of us. Some of our worlds will end with heart attacks and some with cancer and some with accidents and some with, I don’t know, falling into the sea from a cliff or something, there’s always someone who does something like that, right?

Whoa.....splash.

Whoa…..splash.

BUT, just in CASE the end of the world’s happening in less than two weeks, we totally have to be PREPARED. I worry about you, my little jelly beans. What if I poo-poohed the Mayan apocalypse and then it happened and you were all beset upon my locusts or something? I’d feel just utterly TERRIBLE. Well, in-between hiding from those locusts, I suppose. In-between that I’d feel terrible.

LOCUSTS!!!

LOCUSTS!!!

So I totally researched the things you need to do to be prepared for the (potential) upcoming apocalypse. So you don’t fall prey to the locusts. (If the horsemen come, I can’t help you, though. They’re total badasses.)

THINGS YOU NEED TO DO IN ORDER TO BE READY FOR THE UPCOMING APOCALYPSE (OR MAYBE NOT-CALYPSE)

According to this website, which I think we can all agree looks quite sciency in a not-at-all sciency way, we need to do the following:

  1. Get together a group.
    One...two...three...PROCREATE!

    One…two…three…PROCREATE!

    Apparently your group needs to be about 25 people, and with your group you need to repopulate the earth. Oh. Um. Well, I think that’s how you need to phrase it. You should walk up to your friends and say, “Listen. The world’s ending in a little over a week and a half, so I’m trying to get a group together. We’re going to need to have a lot of sex. You’re cool with that, right? Us having a lot of sex, platonic-friend-up-until-now?” That won’t creep your friends out at all that you want to use them as brood mares. Neat! So start making a list of people you want to spend the rest of the end of the world with and/or bone and/or procreate with. (You also can’t bring along family members, obviously, because no one wants to have sex with their siblings. So see ya later, bro, you can’t come. Get out of my apocalypse shelter.)

  2. Plan.
    "Bob, you're in charge of the sex swing, and Jenny, you're in charge of the baking. We cool? Good, good."

    “Bob, you’re in charge of the sex swing, and Jenny, you’re in charge of the baking. We cool? Good, good.”

    Get together your orgy group and talk about the apocalypse. I’m sorry I left this for so late. You don’t have a lot of time to do any of these things. I guess talk quickly. This also says to elect a club president and treasurer and such. You know the president’s going to get the most sex, so choose wisely.

  3. Find a place for your new civilization to begin.
    I choose here. Look! Pretty!

    I choose here. Look! Pretty!

    Claim a plot! Make it be in the middle of nowhere (because of other people who are NOT in your sex-orgy group, and also probably looters.) Get a map, so you can find it once the locusts come. Go camping there in all weather (um…we only have a week and a half left…so again, I’m sorry, I really shot you all in the foot on this one) so you can be prepared because this is your new HOME.

  4. Put together a survival kit.
    Here's mine. I am OBSESSED with these things.

    Here’s mine. I am OBSESSED with these things.

    Now, this site was not helpful about a survival kit, but I was reading a recap of some show on TLC (of COURSE it was on TLC – TLC has some SUPER-helpful programming like about hillbillies and such) about preparing for the apocalypse and apparently what you need is a lot of food in cans like huge cans of pudding and stew; a big garden under a geodesic dome like in that movie with Pauly Shore and the stoner Baldwin who has since found the Lord; rabbits (so you can pet ’em, but also kill ’em and then eat ’em); a portable surgery kit just in case someone needs to get their leg amputated; and guns. A LOT of guns. One guy was pre-carrying his gun everywhere, just in case the apocalypse hit while he was going about his day. He was attempting to learn to SWIM with it on. I’m not even kidding.

  5. Build a shelter.
    Ooh, a BOOK. About SHELTERS. Nice.

    Ooh, a BOOK. About SHELTERS. Nice.

    The site recommends you build it underground and also protect yourself from the elements and also looters. Also since you’re going to be having all that procreatey sex, you probably want to put one of those rotating beds in there with satin sheets, and maybe also a disco ball. And load up on CDs you like, probably. You’re going to be listening to those over and over and OVER. Plus also the site recommends you figure out your power source. Listen, this is a lot of work. Why didn’t you all warn me we needed to start planning for this before this? URGH.

  6. Hoard.
    SO MANY THINGS!

    SO MANY THINGS!

    Hoard a YEAR’S worth of supplies. Shit, you guys, you have to do this in a WEEK. You’d better get on the horn with your 25 sex-people and get them to start hoarding too. Put one in charge of snack-cakes and one in charge of Dumbcat-food, ok? (Oh. Yeah, if the world’s ending, Dumbcat’s coming with. Sorry. There’s going to be fur all up in our shelter. Listen! I’m not leaving my guy BEHIND. He wouldn’t know what to do with all those locusts.) Don’t just hoard food. You also need things like clothes and toilet paper and pens. Don’t forget pens, how will you write to-do lists?

  7. Pray.
    I like this kid's face. PRAYING IS HARD!

    I like this kid’s face. PRAYING IS HARD!

    No, seriously, the next step was to pray. Um. Well, I guess, if that’s your thing, you can do that. I’m not going to tell you NOT to pray. But while you pray, I’m going to use that time to hoard more.

  8. Study.
    NO, you can't have a Golden Ticket. Stop asking.

    NO, you can’t have a Golden Ticket. Stop asking.

    Each of your people who are also sex-orgy people also need to be an expert in something. Well, I think we can skip this step, because I’m not inviting anyone into my underground bunker who’s not brilliant. All of my people are already experts in something. Also, I’m not having sex with anyone who’s not brilliant. Sorry. That’s the golden ticket to my areas.

  9. Cross-train.
    We get to use awesome bouncy balls? That's ok, then.

    We get to use awesome bouncy balls? That’s ok, then.

    This article wants you to be in peak physical condition for the apocalypse. Shit. I don’t think a week and a half is long enough. Sorry. Unless you’re already IN peak physical condition. Wait, do I know anyone in peak physical condition? I don’t know that I do. Those people confuse and befuddle me, plus where would I meet them? Those people don’t live on the internet.

  10. Keep an eye on the sky for…something?
    I guess one of the other group-members will have to look for the bombs. I have to hoard ALL THE THINGS RIGHT NOW.

    I guess one of the other group-members will have to look for the bombs. I have to hoard ALL THE THINGS RIGHT NOW.

    I don’t know. Bombs, maybe? This one’s confusing, plus I’m too busy hoarding.

So, really, what we’ve learned it, mostly we don’t have much time, but once we do all this stuff, we’re totally going to be having a lot of sex with our friends. Um. I don’t…huh. I don’t really want to have a lot of sex with my friends. (Sorry, friends.) But then again, I don’t know that I so much want to go up to complete strangers and ask them to be in my sex-orgy apocalypse group. This is a hard choice, you guys.

OK, so we have almost two weeks. Hoard hoard hoard. Also maybe get some guns and rabbits. Or don’t. But if anything happens to you, I will feel TERRIBLE.

And so will Dumbcat, although mostly he’s just excited he gets to live in a BUNKER and get his fur all over NEW FURNITURE MOM!


I avoided people like they were zombies *before* they were all zombies.

I realize you are probably totally all disappointed in me because I haven’t been discussing the end of the world and you have come to count on me for your apocalypse updates. Sometimes I have personal shit occurring that prevents me from discussing the apocalypse in a timely fashion. Listen, you need to be a little proactive. It’s not like I’m going to be there to protect you when the zombies come. Well, not all of you. Dumbcat and I do plan on hiking our asses on over to wherever The Nephew is. The zombies won’t be getting The Nephew, nosiree Bob. 

The zombie apocalypse is nigh and don’t even think I didn’t warn you like eleventy-billion times this was coming. It’s your own damn fault you decided to be all blithe and ignore me and go trip the light fandango or whatever it is you do in your personal life and not prepare for this shit appropriately. 

In Miami, some guy ate another guy’s FACE. He ATE HIS FACE RIGHT OFF. 

JUST LIKE THIS.

How often do I mention eating your face on here? I’m going to do a search. Because I’m pretty sure it means I’m psychic. Oh, the answer is 15. Fifteen times in a year I have mentioned either eating your face off, biting your face off, or chewing your face off. I AM A PSYCHIC WONDER. I knew this was going down. I just wasn’t sure WHEN. You can’t put a timeline on face-eating. Don’t try to puzzle out my powers. They’re inscrutable. 

So, in Miami on Sunday, the cops found a naked man (zombies don’t need clothes, why would they need clothes? They have no shame. That part of their brain is dead as disco. DID YOU HEAR THAT JIM? DEAD AS *DISCO*) chewing on a homeless man’s face on an off-ramp. They were all, “Sir? Sir, could you please stop the face-chewery? That’s totally the grossest, no joke. Back away from the man-buffet, Naked McGee.” The naked man IGNORED THEM. Also? CNN says that “When the officer approached him, told him to stop, pointed a gun at him, he turned around and growled like a wild animal and kept eating at the man’s face.” The cop was all, “AW HELL NO” and then shot him. Well, the cop obviously didn’t watch (or read, the comics are better) a lot of Walking Dead, because the bullet didn’t stop him. He just kept on a’nommin’. Nom nom nom.  Well! You KNOW that cop shot him somewhere non-lethal, right? Like, in the leg or something. Like cops are trained to do. Guess how many more times the cop shot him? Five. FIVE MORE TIMES. It took SIX SHOTS for that man to stop eating the homeless man’s face. SIX. (One good head shot and that homeless man wouldn’t need to wear a Phantom of the Opera mask, copper-copper-crime-stopper. Just letting you know. Do your research. It’s your civic duty to know these things. We COUNT on you. Sheesh. Rick Grimes is a cop, he knows these things.) 

I like comic-book Rick better. TV-Rick, although pretty, isn’t badass enough for me.

The naked man (let’s just start calling him the zombie, ok?) was killed. Or he was already dead and he was put down, I suppose. The victim, Ronald Poppo, was transported to the hospital with critical injuries. According to this article, “most of his face, save for his goatee, is missing.”  Well, this is a new one. Zombies don’t eat beards! Good to know. You should all grow beards. This is good news for those of us who find bearded men attractive. (Now, listen, I’m not saying the victim is going to die and then rise again with a hunger for human flesh and brain matter, but I sure as hell wouldn’t be his nurse. Or at least wouldn’t be his nurse without a fireaxe strapped to my hip or something.) 

Jake, most of your pretty face is safe, safe, safe.

The zombie, before he was a zombie, was a man named Rudy Eugene. (TWO FIRST NAMES! That’s already suspicious. I mean, look at James Earl Ray! He had THREE first names, and NOTHING good came of that. NOTHING.) People say that “Eugene could often be seen wandering the area looking confused.” That is because HE WAS ADJUSTING TO BEING A VERY DEAD ZOMBIE.  

Now, the cops, in a massive coverup attempt, are all, “NO NO NO, it’s not ZOMBIEISM, it’s a new drug, it’s so new…um…you’ve never heard of it…we call it…um…bath salts.” They SAY “bath salts” are like meth and also amphetamine and maybe also bear testosterone. I made up part of that. NO I’m not telling you which part. This “drug” that I am not sure exists causes you to “use your jaws as a weapons.” So does zombieism, you cover-uppers. I don’t buy this for a minute. 

His girlfriend agrees with me about the unlikeliness of this bath salt scenario, by the way.

The man being depicted by the media as a “face eater” or a “monster” is not the man she knew, she said. He smoked marijuana often, though had recently said he wanted to quit, but he didn’t use stronger recreational drugs and even refused to take over-the-counter medication for simple ailments like headaches, she said. He was sweet and well-mannered, she said.

Eugene’s girlfriend has her own theory on what happened that day. She believes Eugene was drugged unknowingly. The only other explanation, she said, was supernatural — that someone put a Vodou curse on him. The girlfriend, who unlike Eugene is not Haitian, said she has never believed in Vodou, until now.

You do realize that voodoo creates ZOMBIES, right? Right.

Google Images says this is “bath salts” but I say LIKELY STORY GOOGLE IMAGES. LIKELY STORY.

So, there’s that. There’s a zombie in Miami, who, before he died, made WHO KNOWS how many more zombies. Likely amongst the homeless community, which is, if you think about it, a very good place to start, because they already sometimes have dead eyes and shamble about, so they could fly under the radar until they’ve got their numbers up, and then kill us, kill us all. Now, if that was it, I’d be all, ok, maybe we can contain this. MAYBE. But I’d still stock up on canned goods and shelf-stable milk. 

(Side note: I shared this story with K. that I work with. K.’s response: “That’s not true. That’s disgusting. That’s not zombies. Why do you think everything’s zombies? You always think things are zombies. It’s not zombies. Probably he was just a cuckoo. It was in Miami? He probably had sunstroke. Was he wearing sunscreen? Did the article say he was sufficiently hydrated, and wearing sunscreen?” IF YOU PEOPLE KEEP BURYING YOUR HEADS IN THE SAND THE ZOMBIES ARE JUST GOING TO BITE YOU IN THE ASSES. Also? You can still be infected by an ass-bite. I CAN’T TELL YOU EVERYTHING, PEOPLE. You need to do some RESEARCH.) 

Then a guy in New Jersey CUT HIS OWN ABDOMEN OPEN and THREW HIS OWN INTESTINES AT THE COPS. 

NO, I’m not kidding. How could I make something like that up? Come on, even I’m not that twisted. Heh. Intestines. Twisted. Nice one, Amy. Thanks, Amy.

When the cops showed up at this shouty dude’s house, he started stabbing himself. They noticed his intestines were hanging out of him. He continued to stab himself, then PULLED HIS INTESTINES OUT and WIELDED THEM AT THE COPS. I like that he furnished his own disgusting weapons. You have to admire that kind of MacGuyverism. 

MacGuyver never used his own intestines to get out of a jam, but if the situation called for it, you can bet he would have. I have FAITH in you, MacGuyver.

The cops sprayed two cans of pepper spray at him. It did nothing. Well, why would it? Zombies can’t feel pain. THEY ARE ALREADY DEAD. 

(Although, listen, I’m not sure this one’s a zombie. I think this one might just be a demon or a revenant or something. This one seems to think and use crude tools too well to be a zombie.) 

This article doesn’t even tell us why this guy was using his own intestines as sticky weaponry. Just that he’s been treated in the past for mental problems. Huh. This is a worry.

You think we’re done, don’t you? WE ARE NOT DONE. Listen, you’ve been relaxing for FAR TOO LONG. The apocalypse is HERE, people. This week it HAILED on my HEAD in MAY. That’s total apocalypse behavior. 

On Memorial Day, this tweet was sent out from the University of Illinois: 

Um. UM YOU GUYS. Um. 

Now, the university is immediately all “ha ha! No, no. All is well! All has been contained. THERE IS TOTALLY NO DANGER AT ALL. But, if, you know, you see glow-in-the-dark monkeys with laser-beam eyes or maybe tentacle-beasts in the campus library bathroom, you might want to, oh, I don’t know, lock yourself in your dorm closet for the time being. With a sharpened dining-hall butter knife as a weapon. Just a thought.” 

I find it horrifying I did a search for “genetically altered monkeys” and THIS PHOTO CAME UP. You GUYS! There ARE glow in the dark monkeys! Oh, no no no.

Genomic Biology? Andreas, we’re in deep shit right now, right? Well, you’re not, you’ve got an ocean separating you from the glowing monkeys and tentacle-beasts and I don’t know that they can swim. But we are, right? I mean, I’m totally prepared for zombies but I don’t know how prepared I am for monkeys. They’re cunning, monkeys are. I can only assume whatever got spilled would make them MORE cunning. Oh, this is bad. This is so, so bad. Zombies are slow. Monkeys are NOT AT ALL SLOW. When I went to the zoo last month, there was this one monkey that was SO FAST. It was zipping all around its cage. And Dad was like, “Isn’t that baby monkey cute?” and I apparently looked horrified and he said, “What?” and I said, “I’m just imagining how fast that would be if it got in your bedroom at night in the dark and ripped off your face.” 

Dad just shook his head and worried about how my brain works but WHO’S LAUGHING NOW DAD. Not me, I’m too busy worrying about GLOW IN THE DARK GENETICALLY ALTERED MONKEY BEASTS. 

Now, I know, you want to know what you can do to prepare. I’m really kind of mad at you all for not already BEING prepared, but fine. I’ll help. Because I don’t want you to all be dead. Then who would read my blog? 

Stock up on non-perishable food items (and water, don’t be a dummy.) Also, if you can learn to hunt and can your own food, that’d be good. The non-perishables are only going to be good for a year or so, and then you’re going to get pretty hungry if you can’t fend for yourself. 

Learn to use weapons. Also, if you can get good at weapons that are self-sustaining, like axes or swords or something, that’d be good. Once all the bullets and arrows are looted, you’re shit out of luck, Good-Time Charlie. 

Find a place to hole up and be ready to defend that sucker. You might have to kill non-zombies to do it, because other people are going to try to steal your hidey-hole. If you’re squeamish, be ready to die. Nice knowing you. 

Bone up. Zombie movies/shows/literature. I know, it’s like homework. Well, it’s homework that can save your life, Slappy Jones. So put down the Draw Something and read a damn comic. 

Try not to get too attached. Your friends and family are going to get eaten. It’s just the way of the apocalypse. I mean, sure, you can mourn a little. But mourn too much, and your tear-soaked eyes are going to miss that zombie sneaking up on you to eat your face off. 

Learn basic survival skills. You already know you need to know how to hunt and can your own food. You also will need to know how to build a fire. Swimming would be good. Driving a standard. Building a shelter. Growing your own food. Purifying your own water. It’s kind of like competing on Survivor, except Jeff Probst wants to eat you. 

Fire is LIFE on the island. And your fire is about to GO IN MY MOUTHHOLE.

And, above all else, what did we learn from Zombieland? Which you watched as part of your homework, right? Right. The Double Tap, mofos. YOU NEED TO BE SURE THEY’RE DEAD. 

Don’t come crawling to me when the zombies come. I’m looking out for myself, Dumbcat, and The Nephew. A girl’s gotta have priorities. You’re on your own, my little squash blossoms. 

In the meantime, look out for the glow-in-the-dark monkeys. Speedy bastards. 

(I know there’s no way to PROVE this, but I’m totally writing this WEDNESDAY, and then this came out today, so now I look like a thief. I promise I’m not. It’s very good and any similarities are due to perhaps some sort of mind-meld vortex because I finished this at 1pm and read the article at 3pm so I don’t know. I did mention I was psychic. So maybe it’s that. Or you could just call me a liar and say I stole it, either way. But if I stole it, would I put a link to this article in my post? Am I really that devious a mastermind? Am I really?)


“Eddie, did I leave my training manual in there? MY EYES! AH! NO! MY EYES!!!”

Saturday night! Important things to talk about, people. IMPORTANT THINGS.

Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you: SNOWPOCALYPSE.

SNOWPOCALYPSE!

OK, maybe not really snowpocalypse. Maybe it’s just snowing some and then it will be done snowing and is it a pain in the ass? YES it is a pain in the ass. Because it isn’t even HALLOWEEN yet. And that’s nice. Isn’t that nice? That our fall was totally cut short by some sort of nor’easter?

Also, we COULD call it Snowmageddon but let’s not shoot our wad yet, people. It’s only October. Save something for February. HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING.

Also, until I moved here, I didn’t know that anyone said nor’easter unless they were in a Stephen King novel? So I like to say it a lot. NOR’EASTER!!!!

So, if you’re not from New York or the east coast, right now, AT THIS VERY MOMENT, it is SNOWING. In OCTOBER. Sometimes? That happens. This is not without precedent. It has happened before. And! Guess what? It will totally happen again. SNOW SOMETIMES HAPPENS WHEN YOU LIVE HERE.

Also, whenever I think of bad weather, I think of Chris Farley’s El Nino sketch. “I am El Nino! That is Spanish for…THE NINO!”

Here are some totally helpful things you can and should do when it snows:

  1. Make sure your heat works
  2. Make sure you are prepared (shovel, winter clothing, ice scraper, a normal amount of food)
  3. Bundle up nice and cozy, preferably with someone you want touching you, and watch something awesome (I recommend, since it is a Halloween snowpocalyse, horror movies) and then maybe take a hot shower, with or without the loved one, your choice

Here are some things I would please ask that you STOP DOING when it snows, please, for the love of Pete:

  1. Driving like the roads are a sheet of ice when they’re not; taking up two lanes for no reason I can ascertain; driving 10 miles an hour on the highway when there’s really no reason for that; not cleaning all the snow off your car and then driving really, really fast past people so they get all of your snow in their face because that’s totally not an asshole move
  2. Calling every single office of every single doctor, lawyer, heating and cooling place, etc. that I answer for at the answering service and SCREAMING at the operator, “I NEED HELP RIGHT NOW BECAUSE IT’S ABOUT TO SNOWWWWWW” as if you’ve never, ever, in your entire life, seen a single flake, or maybe snow is actually acid or hot lava
  3. This is related to number 2, but also, if a business closes early because of an impending SNOWPOCALYPSE? Don’t act like a jerkoff to the answering service about it. “They closed EARLY? Must be NICE,” you sneer. Well. Where are YOU right now, Chumley? At home, you say? Oh, well, then, I guess you have no room to talk, now do you, because YOU are not risking YOUR neck driving home on roads that have been marked as state of emergency just to be there for asshats like you that want to talk to someone for non-emergent reasons like “In three weeks I have an appointment and I’m wondering if you could tell me if there will be plenty of open parking in the lot that day? YES, I have to know today. IT IS TOTALLY AN EMERGENCY.”
  4. Going to the grocery store and stocking up on 47 carts of staples as if you are never, ever going to get to the store again (sidebar: one year, I saw a woman with two carts full of bread. TWO CARTS. A couple of hours before another SNOWPOCALYPSE.  I can’t even imagine. HOW COULD YOU EVER USE THAT MUCH BREAD. Was she going to lay it out on her driveway to shield it from the snow? Was she going to make a little fort out of it? Was she going to cover herself in it in lieu of winter clothing? IT BOGGLED THE MIND.) You don’t need ALL the bread, milk, and peanut butter. Do you need maybe one of each? Sure. Sure you do. But you know what? I bet the day after SNOWPOCALYPSE you will be able to get back to the store for more supplies. It is a safe bet you will.

Nothing gets me hotter than motivational posters and a speakerphone

All Over Albany pointed me toward this news story this week. In case you are TOO LAZY TO CLICK (and if you are, seriously, you really need to take some iron supplements, or something, what is wrong with you) here are some highlights:

A former NYS Department of Environmental Conservation employee was arraigned in court recently for racking up over $20,000 in phone-sex-line fees that he charged to his office, over 500 work hours, in four different work conference rooms in the office in the hopes that the calls wouldn’t be tracked back to him. He called a plethora of juicily-named phone sex lines (and it’s worth clicking on that first link just to see how that totally official NYS PDF is all listing phone sex lines like “VIP Sensual Chat” and “Secret Encounters.”) I especially like this quote from the second article: “The latter five charges say that Reilly knowingly filed false time sheets saying he was working when he was spending hours talking dirty on the phone.” Heh. “Talking dirty.” Awesome. WE ARE FIVE YEARS OLD.

OK, I know, I’m totally naive, here, but here are some questions I have.

  1. How the hell big is the NYS DEC office that it has at least 4 conference rooms? My office has, TOTAL, four conference rooms. And I can tell you, if I was “talking dirty” in one of them, my co-workers would know. Those walls are paper-thin. I think the NYC DEC office is like a gigantic cavern. Which is awesome, but also kind of makes me jealous.
  2. Who thinks talking dirty at work is a good idea? I mean, does your office have a conference room? THEY ARE NOT SEXY. They’re all bland, bland, bland. Bland wall treatments, a bland picture of something bland, and in my office, at least, most of them are stuffed with outdated tax manuals. WHAT WOULD GET YOUR MOTOR RUNNING ABOUT THIS.
  3. $20,000? Really? That is INSANE. 500 hours? $20,000? So, let’s do some math, even though we know math = totally the hardest, right, Barbie? 500 hours, $20,000. That means the phone sex lines cost $40 an hour? OK, I know that seems awesome? But think about this with your thinker. I get my eyebrows done, because otherwise I totally am a yeti? And that takes her 10 minutes. For this service, I pay her $10, with a $5 tip. (She DESERVES it. She is KILLER with my brows. I mean it. YETI, you guys. Not even kidding.) So she makes $15 for 10 minutes. Which means my awesome, kickass stylist makes $90 an hour. And listen, I love her to PIECES (I have followed her to three salons, so deep is my love) but phone sex seems TOTALLY THE HARDEST. How would you not LAUGH? You deserve extra money for not laughing. I mean, the minute some sad sack asked me, “So what are you wearing?” in a pervy voice I’d be in utter and complete cliche-driven giggles. $90 > $40, in case you’re keeping track. PHONE SEX OPERATORS YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG.
  4. I feel SO BAD for his coworkers I can’t even. You KNOW they knew what was going on. He’d probably get all excited, and all, “Have to make a call,” and walking all stiff, and they’d roll their eyes and be all “Oh, for the love of…Eddie’s going back to his wank-a-thon again, better tell the cleaning crew to bring extra Lysol tonight,” and they’d do whatever possible, including TALKING REALLY LOUD ABOUT NONSENSE, to drown out good old pervy Eddie’s jack-o-rama in Conference Room B.

“Judy! JUDY. DID YOU GET THAT EMAIL I SENT YOU?”

“…uh…yeah…that’s it…talk about that…what are you doing right now…”

“YES! I DID, JIM! THAT WAS ONE FUNNY LOLCAT!”

“…you’re a dirty girl, aren’t you, Shana…yeah, that’s it, baby…”

“I LIKE WHEN THE LOLCATS COME OUT OF THE CEILING THE BEST!”

“uh…you know I like that, baby…oh, yes…oh, YES…”

“CEILING CAT HA HA HA JIM! JIM! WILL THIS EVER END?”

“oh…Shana…you’re the best, baby…almost there now…yeah…”

“WHAT’S THAT, JUDY?”

“Shana…Shana…uh…”

“THIS COMPLETE AND UTTER TORMENT FROM CONFERENCE ROOM B, JIM? I FEEL LIKE I SHOULD SHOOT AMMONIA INTO MY EAR CANALS.”

“YES! SHANA! YES YES YES! I mean…um…thank you, Mr. Thompson. That’s all the information I’ll need for my investor’s report today. Ahem.”

“YES, JUDY, LUCKILY, EDDIE IS NEARING RETIREMENT AGE. ALSO I REPLACED HIS VIAGRA WITH TIC TACS.”

Shh…We’re Hunting Wabbits

Today, I got a text from a friend.

“You have a blog! Busted.”

Which is kind of funny? Because strangers read this daily, but the fact that REAL LIFE PEOPLE THAT I KNOW IN REAL LIFE WHO ARE REALLLLL might read it kind of both scares the shit out of and exhilarates the pants off me in equal measure.

I don’t tell people I know in real life about this. I mean, I don’t hide it, either. It’s on my Facebook page and my Google+ page, both of which are pretty easy for people who know me to find if they feel like Sherlocking it up, I suppose. I just don’t post links to what I write on there. I don’t think most people I know in real life would care that much what I ramble on about and what a complete and total dork I am.

That goddamned Facebook ticker bullshit thing outed me. What the hell, Facebook ticker? I thought I set that thing so nothing I posted ended up on there? I mean, I disabled that bullshit the minute it came out because I have Google Chrome and there’s an app you can add on that makes it DIS-A-FRIGGIN’-PEAR, but apparently things I say ARE ENDING UP ON STALKER TICKER. Total flying below the radar fail. Thanks a lot, Zuckerberg.

I’m totally a shy violet. Don’t tell a soul. Or I’ll chop you up with a chainsaw and feed you to my pet piranha, Fluffy McWigglepants.

Anyway, say hello to N., who may or may not be reading this and be A REAL PERSON I KNOW. N. has the distinction of being one of my favorite actors AND a real-life person that I stalked one time because I saw him in a play and liked his performance SO MUCH that I was BOUND AND DETERMINED to get him to audition for my theater and that didn’t work out at all because my entire plan involved me seeing him one time on the street and was going to talk to him until I realized that made me a cray-cray so I was too scared to and then I thought I would do some investigative work and find out what mutual friends we had and make THEM introduce us, wasn’t that totally underhanded, then I got distracted by something that I’ve forgotten because that was totally like five whole YEARS ago, what do I LOOK like, an ELEPHANT, come ON, people, until he auditioned even without my meddling schemes. Also, he has good hair. How can that be wrong? WELCOME TO N.! CALLOOH CALLAY.

So now we’re up to FOUR WHOLE PEOPLE THAT I KNOW IN REAL LIFE that know I have a blog. I know, right? TOTALLY THE BIG TIME. I’d break out the champagne flutes if I hadn’t broken them all pretty much immediately after getting them. THOSE THINGS ARE TOTALLY FRA-GEE-LAY.


They’ll give cameraphones to anyone. Seriously. Even people who use them inappropriately.

I have spent WAY TOO MUCH TIME screwing around when there are important things that need to be discussed today, you guys. Totally important things. So many important things, I’m going to list them, in a fancy list fashion. Because I’m fancy! Like a tea party or a eyelet dresser scarf with crystal perfume bottles arranged on it JUST SO!

ZOMBIES ARE COMING AND I HAVE PROOF

OK, I know, EVERYONE’S all “zombies are coming! They’re almost HERE! They’re getting CLOSER now!” like the Monster Shouter in The Stand. I know. But I totally have irrefutable PROOF for you that they’re coming because I saw CREEPY GRAFFITI that PROVES it.

Well, it could also prove a lot of things, or nothing, but I totally took it as zombies. But let’s face it, I have zombies on the brain. Tonight, you guys, TONIGHT! The Walking Dead Season Two! Why are you not more excited? I think you might be broken.

Here’s the scoop, so you know that you’ll have to start working on your zombie preparedness kits. I work on Saturdays at an answering service, as I’ve mentioned, because I’m a poor person. Wait, I’m totally the 99%, right? I SHOULD BE PROTESTING. Wait, if I took time out to protest I’d lose my jobs and therefore my home and everything I own and I’d end up living in the dumpster behind the Dunkin’ Donuts. (Because listen, if I’m going to live in a dumpster, it’s going to be a good one. That’s probably a nice dumpster. And there’d be donuts! Only kind of gross ones!) So anyway, back on track. I know, get to the zombies. Hold your horses, buckaroo. So on one of my breaks this weekend, I was in the parking lot and looked across the street at the kind of abandoned nail salon/sell your gold place next door (yeah, they did both, and they’ve been closed for a month and are supposed to open again November 8th but I have my doubts. Also, they seem obsessed with lawn ornaments, and currently have a huge goose with a Pomeranian beside it, as if the goose is WALKING the Pomeranian, and this makes me laugh. Also one of those racist jockey statues which does not make me laugh) and noticed odd graffiti on the concrete wall of their parking lot. And then I realized, well, that’s it then! ZOMBIES.

…and you totally can’t see that at all. Listen, I TRIED. I zoomed in and EVERYTHING. And when I got home, I even tried cropping and shit. But it did not matter. This shows you what a bad photographer I am.

So trust me when I tell you that this says “2012 EXPECT US.” Also there’s a question mark in a box. I decided that’s one of those hobo marks (online someone called them “hoboglyphs” and I like that very much) that I read about once that told hobos in olden times what houses had good stew and what ones would poke you with sticks and such. But when I researched it I found NO INFORMATION THAT BACKED UP THAT THEORY. Zombies are VERY TRICKY INDEED. I DID find that a box with a dot in it means danger and two boxes interlocked means fear. So the box itself? Totally scary. The question mark, I don’t know, maybe scary fear? Zombie scary fear???

I also thought maybe they were trying to cast an Expecto Patronum spell but were doing it wrong, but that isn’t nearly as much fun for me as zombies.

So I think you’ll all agree that “EXPECT US” can’t mean anything but zombies. I mean, come on, I researched HOBOGLYPHS, here, people. Stock up on canned goods and bullets, because zombiegeddon’s coming in 3-15 months!

WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING IN MY WORK ASHTRAY
(also)
STILL LIFE WITH FORK AND HO HO 

OK, so ALSO on my break, I went to my car and then was checking my phone outside and then looked down on my way in so I didn’t trip over anything and saw something so weird and distressing (but non-zombie-related, so don’t worry, you still have a little time for canned good hoarding) that I OF COURSE had to ALSO take a photo of it. And this one turned out prettier. If by “prettier” you mean “Amy, you seriously need to stop taking pictures of garbage.”

Now, listen, my job is kind of really gross. It’s in an old moldy bank, and one time this summer we got infested with the kind of flies that only hatch on dead bodies (yeah, we investigated it) and also there are weird smells and a sinkhole under the sink (how’s THAT for irony!) and no one understands the “washing your hands after using the restroom” signs so mostly they just use them to draw penises on. So totally gross. I kind of always want to burn my clothes after each shift.

Also yesterday, the words “I can’t get that up, ma’am. NO I CAN’T GET IT UP” passed my lips, much to the delight of my coworkers. It was not in reference to a lady-boner. But after my shift today I can guarantee you I wasn’t getting that up either.

So, yes, anyway. Imagine my dismay when I noticed these in the ashtray on my lunch break (and yes, the ashtray is a planter filled with wet sand, I told you, WE ARE FANCY):

Oh, what’s that? You can’t see what those are? WELL! You’ll be totally glad I zoomed in, then, WON’T YOU.

SOMEONE TOTALLY PUT CONDOMS IN THE ASHTRAY.

But here’s the confusing part. Unopened! Unopened, unused condoms! Did they give up on ever getting some? Did they totally commit to getting their girl pregnant? Did they have a fight with the Magnum people? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS. Also? You can’t see it? But there’s a garbage can literally two steps away from this. Like, if I hadn’t zoomed in on this weirdness, you’d see the trash can. I don’t get this. Was it an advertisement for their studliness? Was it an elaborate joke? WHY IN THE ASHTRAY?

Last year this was on the floor under my cubicle one day over there, which was also confusing:

It was a Ho Ho? And a fork? The Ho Ho was still in the wrapper. And the fork was on it, like someone was juuuust about to have a snack and then they were raptured. Oh, the note? Yeah, no, that wasn’t there. I put that there. For the photo. There was too much brown otherwise. Also, I left the entire tableau there when I left for the day, because I thought it would crack up another employee randomly, and the laughs are few and far between at that place.

The problems with this were multitudinous, but the biggest were, a., who leaves an uneaten Ho Ho? And b., who eats Ho Hos with a FORK?

SOMETHING THAT TICKLED ME PINK TODAY

People still say that, right? Well, I don’t care. It did.

OK, I have been playing with this thing for the past half an hour while I should have been finishing up this blog post AND IT HAS NOT ONCE BEEN WRONG. And the minute I finish up here I’m going to play with it MORE. It is AWESOME. It knows ALL of my favorite things. Seriously. It got Bernadette Peters. Who the hell even remembers who she IS anymore except for me? SO MUCH FUN. Except sometimes it’s a little wrong? And it took forever to guess NPH, and at first, thought I meant Jensen Ackles? And when I clicked on the “Details” button, it thought I should have answered “yes” to “is your character a Hasidic Jew.” Unless I’m totally off-base, I don’t think NPH is a Hasidic Jew. I could be wrong! But I think the media would have picked up on that by now, no?

PEER PRESSURE 1, ME 0

So I signed up for Tumblr because EVERYONE’S on Tumblr and surprise, it seems like a lot of fun. So I guess I should have been jumping off all of those bridges and trying all of that angel dust all along, MOM. So, yeah, if you’re on Tumblr and you want to be my fuh-reeeend, link’s over there on the right. I don’t know what I’ll say yet. Probably profane stuff. I posted a picture of Edgar Allen Poe with cusses all OVER it. Digging it already, even though I’m not sure how it works totally yet.

I LIKE SHOUTING

A blogger who will remain unnamed recently posted her “rules of blogging.” And one of them was, “What’s with all the caps? That’s “shouting,” people. And it’s rude.” HEY. You know what? I KNOW WHAT IT IS. And you know what else? HONEY BADGER DON’T GIVE A SHIT. (LOOK OUT SAYS THAT BIRD.) Here’s the thing. I know how to use italics. I know they’re the classy person’s way of emphasizing something. Thing is? They don’t usually put across JUST HOW EXCITED AND/OR PERTURBED I am. Also, I shout a lot in real life. I don’t ITALICIZE a lot in real life. How would one even DO that? With a monocle and spats? I’m not classy. Can’t even pretend to be. Why bother? I’m gonna SHOUT ON HERE, Fancy Mc Bloggamuffin. And if you don’t like it and think I should be using my inside voice and my coasters and taking off my shoes so I don’t track mud all up in this bitch then I’m pretty sure that little x at the top right-hand corner will take you far, far away from this bastion of hopelessness. Who named you queen of blogging etiquette? Because I find it equally rude when someone tells other people what to do, so are we at an impasse now, or what? Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to put my feet up on the table and pick my teeth with my fingernail. WHILE SHOUTING. Multi-tasky!

Have a lovely Sunday, everyone! I’m off to see Ragtime. Nothing like racism, Harry Houdini, and a girl on a swing to perk up an autumn Sunday!


Fall TV Anti…ci…pation Part II – Returning Shows O’Shininess

I love Sundays. They’re so restful. I mean, other than the things I should be doing that I’m not. Like cleaning. And errands. And baking. Things like that. But no! No, I refuse to deprive you of what you’ve been promised!

Friday we discussed shows in the fall season I will not, under any circumstances, be watching. We discussed them while I was most likely dying. Well! Today I am STILL most likely dying, but it’s been two days, so I’m obviously much closer to death’s door than I was two days ago. But I refuse to go out without finishing part two of my three part series on fall television. Why, you ask? BECAUSE TELEVISION IS VERY IMPORTANT TO ME. I can hear you, person in the back muttering that I have no life. Well, you know what? Go hang out with your super-cool friends in your super-cool hangout drinking whatever it is the cool kids are drinking or whatever and shut the hell up. I’ll be watching my big old television, thank you very much.

Today, let’s talk about returning shows I’m excited about. I narrowed it down to my top five, because the list was much too long and it kind of made me look like a crazy person. Which you already know I am but really, is there any need to broadcast it further? I think not.

Also– here there be spoilers, if you aren’t caught up. Sorry!

Fall 2011 Returning Shows I’m Most Jazzed About

The Walking Dead (October 16, 2011, AMC) 

Premise: A group of Americans attempts to survive in a post-Apocalyptical zombie wasteland.

Starring: Andrew Lincoln (SWOON), Sarah Wayne Callies from Prison Break, and a lot of other amazingly talented people that you might not have heard of but who cares, they are wonderful and once you see this, you will LOVE them.

This summer, I read the first two graphic novels in the series, to prepare myself for season two, because even though I don’t like to be spoiled, I COULD NOT WAIT. I knew, from the first few minutes of this series, that it was going to be spectacular, and it delivered all the way through. The casting is brilliant; the special effects are brilliant; the acting is brilliant; the art direction is brilliant; the writing is brilliant; the direction itself is brilliant. Ihave nothing but good things to say about this show. AMC allows the show to be as gory as it needs to be, so it comes across as a very realistic horror movie in television form. The relationships between characters are very strong and true. People act like you’d imagine they would, if faced with a situation like this one. You hate people (SHANE! I want to punch Shane in the NECK!) and love people (I have a total and complete crush on Rick. Rick gets shit TAKEN CARE OF. Rick quietly does what needs to be done. Rick would not get involved in nonsense. Also, Rick is crazy handsome and super-tall and played Mark in Love, Actually and made me cry a million tears when he held up the signs to confess his love for Kiera Knightley’s character who was stupid and should have immediately left her very nice but very boring husband for him WHAT THE HELL, KIERA KNIGHTLEY’S CHARACTER. I am SO MAD AT HER I didn’t even bother Googling her character name. JUST THAT MAD.)

And the cliffhanger! Holy flesh-chomping walkers, what a cliffhanger! I am DYING to find out what Dr. Jenner whispered in Rick’s ear right before they escaped the CDC. The graphic novels didn’t cover that, so it’s either still to come, or something that’s just for the series.

My only sadness is that I have to wait until next month for this, and then we only get seven episodes and then a hiatus until February for the rest. Oh, and that there’s some nonsense going on over at AMC and Frank Darabont (who developed it for television, had a hand in writing most of the episodes, and directed the amazing pilot) either quit or was fired so Season Two might be a worry since it he might be the reason Season One was so brilliant. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for continued excellence. Also, this was robbed at the Emmy nominations. ROBBED I TELL YOU.

The Good Wife (September 25, 2011, CBS)

Premise: A state’s attorney is jailed following a sex and corruption scandal. His wife, who stood by him throughout, goes back to work as an attorney at an old flame’s firm.

Starring:Everyone who is anyone, and more amazing people every season. Julianna Margulies, Chris Noth, Josh Charles, Archie Panjabi, Christine Baranski, Matt Czuchry, Alan Cumming, Titus Welliver, Mary Beth Peil, Dallas Roberts, Michael J. Fox, Gary Cole, America Ferrera – need I go on? Because I can. I totally can.

Secret? I didn’t plan on watching this when it started. I hate law shows. They bore the pants off me. I don’t watch the Law and Order franchise (well, except for SVU, and I only watch that because I lovethe two leads, so I guess I’m SOL next season!), and things like A Few Good Men? I mentally take naps during them. Law is BORING to me. I know. I am a heathen and probably should be dunked like a witch for such an admission. Sorry.

My roommate at the time this started watched the pilot, and when I halfheartedly asked her what she’d thought, was full of praise. “You HAVE to watch this, Amy,” she said. “You’re going to love it. It’s not just a law show. I promise. It’s AMAZING.” The reviews had been very good, so I thought, what the hell, I’ll give it a shot.

This show sucked me in and hasn’t let go yet. It gets better with every episode. Julianna Margulies, first off, is brilliant in her role. I mean, she was always wonderful – her turn on ER was one of the reasons I watched the show, and I stopped watching not long after she left – but honestly, even though I love her to pieces, I’m not watching the show just for her anymore. There are two people I’m watching the show for, and they are Alan Cumming and Archie Panjabi.

Not to slight the rest of the cast. They’re doing a great job. The writing is crisp, the events are timely without that weird “ripped from the HEADLINES!” feel that L&O episodes have, the relationships between characters are emotional and true. But Cumming and Panjabi have gone so far above and beyond that they deserve special mention.

Archie Panjabi plays Kalinda Sharma, an investigator for the law firm where Julianna Margulies’s character works. Only, she’s not really Kalinda Sharma. Because last season we found out she took on that persona when she fled another life, one that we know nothing about. Kalinda is a gorgeous bisexual badass who is the most loyal friend you’ll ever meet. If I had to pick one fictional character on television to have my back, it would be Kalinda. I ADORE her. And it’s not just the character, or the writing. Panjabi is BRILLIANT. She has layers upon layers of nuancing in her performance. She can transmit more with a look than most actors can do with pages of monologuing. She’s one of those characters that when she cries, I’m gone. I’m that invested in her character. She’s on the screen, I’m not watching anyone else. She commands every scene she’s in. She’s a master class in acting.

Alan Cumming has always been one of my favorite actors (I’ll never forget him talking about visiting upstate New York on Letterman one night and his joy in the fact that, at our gas stations, you could get “both ice cream AND petrol!” and his Scottish burr over the gas station chain “Stewart’s” made my whole night) and he does not disappoint in this show. His Eli Gold, a mastermind, a spider spinning a web, planning everything so Peter Florrick can get re-elected, is such a layered character that you want to hate him but you just can’t. He’s very human. He’s very American, really (ironic, as he’s played by a Scottish actor). Very ambitious. Very get-it-done-at-any-cost. And he’s at his best when the cracks begin to show, and his humanity peeks out – when he’s surprised by romantic feelings toward a new woman in his life; when he’s realizing how much he actually relates to and likes Alicia Florrick, even more than her husband, actually; when he’s verbally sparring with his daughter. The public man, ruthless and heartless, is at war with the private man, caring and good. He’s doing a brilliant job.

At the end of Season Two, Alicia and her boss, Will, finally seemed to consummate years of flirting once she realized that her husband had slept with more people than he’d let on – worse, that he’d slept with Kalinda, her best friend. A plot twist everyone’s on the edge of their seat about, myself included. But I’m more interested in how this is affecting Kalinda, and how this will affect Eli. I’d watch the two of them fold laundry for an hour, honestly. They’re that good.

Community (September 22, 2011, NBC)

Premise: A group of people with very little in common form a ragtag study group and become friends in one of the strangest community colleges in America.

Starring: the funniest cast on television. Joel McHale, Gillian Jacobs, Alison Brie, Danny Pudi, Yvette Nicole Brown, Donald Glover, Chevy Chase, Ken Jeong, and a lot of recurring extras.

I didn’t love the first episode of this. I watched it and thought, eh, this is going to be another Kath and Kim situation, isn’t it? I made it clear how I feel about the NBC comedy block in my last post: it seems like they always throw something not-funny in there, to mess with my head or something. At the time, My Name is Earl was still in there (I miss you, My Name is Earl!) and Community was the late add-in. I decided I’d give it one more chance. Thank you, my stubborn instincts and long-running dedication to anything anyone who’s ever starred on Saturday Night Live does!

This show – I don’t know how to describe this show. It’s really an acquired taste. You get it or you don’t. I understand that. I wish more people did, and then it wouldn’t be on the bubble for renewal every season, but I get that it’s not everyone’s thing. Fine. It makes me laugh so hard I snort. It makes me laugh so hard I miss the next joke and have to go back and watch it over again to catch what I missed the first time around because I was laughing so hard.

It’s one of the most intelligent comedies on television. There was a paintball episode which had western and sci-fi elements. There was a clip episode of clips that didn’t happen. There was a zombie Halloween episode. There was – and this was just the most amazing thing ever, ever, EVER – a Dungeons and Dragons episode, where the group roleplayed.

It’s actually touching at times, as well. Sometimes it brings a tear to my eye. The writing is very crisp in its absurdity. Every actor commits to the insane reality they’ve created 100%, and it works. I don’t expect it will be around much longer – we were, honestly, lucky to get it for as long as we did – but I’m so happy with what we did get that I can’t really complain. OK, I can. I will. Who would I be if I didn’t complain?

Game of Thrones (Spring 2012, HBO) 

Premise: the life and times of the people of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros and their struggles for power and survival in the often magical land.

Starring: Michelle Fairley, Lena Headley, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Peter Dinklage, Kit Harington, Emilia Clarke, Iain Glen, and a million billion other people because there are SEVEN kingdoms, damn, I can’t list them all

OK, I’m not sure if next season will be called Game of Thrones, or will be called Clash of Kings after the second book in the series. HBO is being pretty tight-lipped about the whole second season, other than a vague release date and some casting info. I assume they’ll stick with the original title because wouldn’t that confuse people, otherwise?

I came into this game late. Ha! Nice play on words. I did, though. My amazing, brilliant, wonderful, life-changing book club was reading the first book in the series a few months ago, and I had heard that the series was on HBO, but as I’m very, very poor, I can’t afford HBO, so I didn’t get it and was not watching it. I read the book. I immediately had to watch the series. I got HBO for True Blood (spoiler alert: waste of my money, this season sucked) and watched Game of Thrones over three days, one episode after another. Loved it, every minute. Just wonderful.

HBO can afford to dump a lot of money into its productions, so production expenses are never really a problem. It doesn’t always make them good, though. True Blood, as mentioned, was awful this season. Pretty? Sure, whatever, it was pretty, that’s not the point. You can put glitter on a turd and it’s still a turd, albeit a shiny sparkly one. Game of Thrones was compelling and awe-inspiring and sweeping and majestical and made me cry more than once and the characters were well-cast and it was what I wanted from the book I’d loved so much.

And there was Peter Dinklage, of course.

OK, I love Peter Dinklage. And I realize, above, I should have put a picture that best encapsulated the entire show and such. But you know what? No. It’s my blog and it gets a BIG HONKIN’ PICTURE OF TYRION LOOKING HAUGHTY AND HANDSOME AND REGAL.

Tyrion Lannister is one of the best characters in fantasy fiction I’ve ever read. He’s the kind of character I like – many shades of gray; layered; intelligent; inscrutable. Peter Dinklage acts the HELL out of this role. Nothing against the other characters and actors portraying them – they’re good, very good, in some cases – but, much like with The Good Wife and Archie Panjabi, this is Dinklage’s show. He lights up every scene. There isn’t a person who watched this series who didn’t leave it rooting for Tyrion. A GIF of Tyrion slapping Joffrey started making the internet rounds. Dinklage was nominated for an Emmy. It’s a great role, but in the hands of a lesser man, would have come off as cartoonish. Dinklage sells it, and you fall in love with him. I can’t wait until Season Two. I’d better get started on the book.

Sherlock (Spring 2012, PBS/BBC)

Premise: an updated version of the Sherlock Holmes tales, set in our digital age.

Starring: Benedict Cumberbatch (earlier I swooned; permit me, please, a double-swoon) and Martin Freeman, plus some recurring actors

This almost seems like cheating. I can hear you now. “Amy!” you’re saying. “This doesn’t COUNT! It’s not even a whole SEASON! It’s three EPISODES! It’s a MINISERIES!”

You wouldn’t be saying that if you watched Season One.

This show is a masterpiece. (This is not meant to be a play on the fact that in the U.S. it plays on Masterpiece Theater on PBS.) I never disliked the original Sherlock tales, but I’m not a big fan. I caught the first one of these, and was just blown away. The seamless integration of modern-day technology into Holmes’s crime-fighting skills. His possible Asperger’s. His relationship with Watson and the homophobic overtones. It’s ALL THERE. The show is flashy without being cheap; it’s compelling without grabbing you by the throat. It doesn’t have to. It gets your attention with quality.

The writing is wonderful, but being based on famous works of literature doesn’t hurt. The acting is something to see. Both Freeman and Cumberbatch (and can we revel in the lovely poetry of a name like Benedict Cumberbatch for a moment, please? The pleasing syllables?) give performances that hit all of the right notes. They’re both drowning and need each other’s friendship to survive. It’s beautiful and refreshing.

I also have others that just…didn’t…quite make my top five. I’m very behind on last season and still scrambling to catch up. So I’m also excited, but not quite as, about Castle, Criminal Minds, The Vampire Diaries (shut up IT HAS DAMON SALVATORE so shut up), Fringe, Supernatural, and Chuck.

This is Damon Salvatore so stop with
your mockery because ZOMG LOOK
AT THOSE EYES HOT DAMN.

Now, it really goes without saying that you should Netflix or rent or whatever it is you do to get such things all of these series and catch up before the new seasons start, please, so I can talk about them with you. It’s a gift you’ll be giving yourself, really. I wouldn’t recommend crap because I don’t watch much crap. Life’s too short. Go go go! What are you waiting for? There’s television to be watched!

Next time: the new shows I’m most excited about. Any guesses? Hint: if you’ve been paying attention over the past few months you can guess #1 easily.


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