The title of this post sucked you right in, didn't it? The air of mystery. (What is the post about, you wonder?)
It's a gift of mine, this writing thing.
But it's true, we did get a new television--the christening of which I detailed last week over at Her Nashville.
I go off, in that post, about how much I hate television.
Hate it.
Can't stand it.
Won't waste my time.
That was Saturday. On Sunday, because we got a new television and it's big enough that I can now see the characters walking around on the screen, I forced myself to sit down and watch one episode ofParenthood on On Demand. I'd seen a preview once. It looked like something that might be up my alley. Four episodes later, I was like which one of these bastard remotes has the "MORE! MORE! MORE!" button?
You guys.
YOU GUYS.
This is why I don't watch television.
I can't stop thinking about the Bravermans. I LOVE THEM.
I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
I can't live without them.
AND THERE ARE NO. MORE. EPISODES. IN. MY. ON DEMAND. QUEUE. MOTHERFUCKER.
I love TV.
It's a gift of mine, this writing thing.
But it's true, we did get a new television--the christening of which I detailed last week over at Her Nashville.
I go off, in that post, about how much I hate television.
Hate it.
Can't stand it.
Won't waste my time.
That was Saturday. On Sunday, because we got a new television and it's big enough that I can now see the characters walking around on the screen, I forced myself to sit down and watch one episode ofParenthood on On Demand. I'd seen a preview once. It looked like something that might be up my alley. Four episodes later, I was like which one of these bastard remotes has the "MORE! MORE! MORE!" button?
You guys.
YOU GUYS.
This is why I don't watch television.
I can't stop thinking about the Bravermans. I LOVE THEM.
I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
I can't live without them.
AND THERE ARE NO. MORE. EPISODES. IN. MY. ON DEMAND. QUEUE. MOTHERFUCKER.
I love TV.
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