February 22, 2004



I was going to write a whole screed about how sick I was of the finale-palooza associated with the end of "Sex in the City." I was going to rail against the hype of celebrating a show that was a mile wide and only about 6 inches deep. I was going to moan and wail and kvetch and caterwall and lick my palms about how I'll have to see Sarah Jessica Parker's tremendous beak on magazines for the next month despite the fact her show will end several weeks prior. I was going to mock the show for its lack of, um, plot, detail and character development, but that would be giving the series too much credit as a work of television art, when it clearly was intended to achieve so much less than that. I was going to celebrate the fact that it only seemed to shine because, comparitively, "Mind of the Married Man" was such an utter hunk of manure. I had intended to suggest that rather than waste 45 minutes of my life on earth taking in the vapid moments of the finale, I'd prefer to watch the last episode of "Charles in Charge" on a weeklong loop while strapped down in this this position. I had planned to somehow find the balance between nonchalance and indifference that would mirror this sentiment.

But then Bunsen went ahead and said it so much better than I could.

I could live with that.

Posted by Jeff at February 22, 2004 10:30 PM | TrackBack

The "My Boyfriend Has Funky Spunk" episode was the most I've EVER laughed out loud while watching TV.

Just sayin'.

(I haven't had HBO since December of last year, so whatta *I* know?!)

I do miss the hell out of The Sopranos, though.

Posted by: margi at February 22, 2004 11:13 PM

Some things resonate for a reason, Margi.

I'm just sayin'.

Posted by: Jeff at February 22, 2004 11:34 PM

Bite me, Jeffie. But you're oh, so right.

Posted by: margi at February 23, 2004 04:07 AM

I'm sick of Sarah Jessica Parker too. They should just show more of the slutty one.

Posted by: Mike at February 23, 2004 06:18 PM