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For those who expressed interest, pictures from my Vegas trip will be up in a few days, once I bestir myself from my laziness and ask Roomie to upload them to his image host so that I can knick them for mine.
There is so much I could waffle witlessly on about--the departure of Laurence Fishburne from CSI, for instance(and the short version of that is that if I were TPTB, I would get down on my knees, back up the Brinks truck, and beg William Petersen to come back for one last run as Gil Grissom.)--but...why? LJ has been moribund of late, and my thoughts even bore me. Why inflict them on others?
With Rammstein on vacation and my television shows on hiatus, there is precious little to discuss. The fansites that haven't died have lapsed into a bleary, post-coital stupor. There were a few gorgeous photos of Richard onstage in Mexico, but that's about it. The shows have been squeed over and dissected, and the fans who met up at the various concerts have duly shared memories, and now everyone is trudging back to their respective slag heap and waiting for the next gobbet of news.
CSI:NY's season finale was a clusterfuck of self-indulgent back-patting and mangled continuity. Mac has only been a CSI for ten years, even though he mentioned in S1 that he'd been Stella's parter for ten years--eight years ago. Not only that, but Stella clearly had memories of Mac before Claire's death in 2001 because she mentioned him being far happier when Claire was alive. Even Quinn knew Mac while Claire was alive, as evinced by their guilty kiss at the lab. There is no way Mac was a green beat cop ten or even fifteen years ago. Would it really kill the writers to research the timelines of their own characters before they start smearing pretty, nonsensical words on the page? I know it makes their sacred peepees happy to think of themselves as magical badasses who don't need to concern themselves with the uncool, plebeian matter of fact-checking, but surprise, bumnuts, you do.
And fuck you running for the congratulatory, "Maybe I've done my part." Yes, Mac, you have, but so have the other cops who will still clock in tomorrow. You are such an insufferable, dripping cockspit. You want to retire? Then fucking retire. Don't use the possibility to beat yourself off and wallow in your pool of heroic laurels. Asswad.
And that is why no one needs to see my thoughts today.
There is so much I could waffle witlessly on about--the departure of Laurence Fishburne from CSI, for instance(and the short version of that is that if I were TPTB, I would get down on my knees, back up the Brinks truck, and beg William Petersen to come back for one last run as Gil Grissom.)--but...why? LJ has been moribund of late, and my thoughts even bore me. Why inflict them on others?
With Rammstein on vacation and my television shows on hiatus, there is precious little to discuss. The fansites that haven't died have lapsed into a bleary, post-coital stupor. There were a few gorgeous photos of Richard onstage in Mexico, but that's about it. The shows have been squeed over and dissected, and the fans who met up at the various concerts have duly shared memories, and now everyone is trudging back to their respective slag heap and waiting for the next gobbet of news.
CSI:NY's season finale was a clusterfuck of self-indulgent back-patting and mangled continuity. Mac has only been a CSI for ten years, even though he mentioned in S1 that he'd been Stella's parter for ten years--eight years ago. Not only that, but Stella clearly had memories of Mac before Claire's death in 2001 because she mentioned him being far happier when Claire was alive. Even Quinn knew Mac while Claire was alive, as evinced by their guilty kiss at the lab. There is no way Mac was a green beat cop ten or even fifteen years ago. Would it really kill the writers to research the timelines of their own characters before they start smearing pretty, nonsensical words on the page? I know it makes their sacred peepees happy to think of themselves as magical badasses who don't need to concern themselves with the uncool, plebeian matter of fact-checking, but surprise, bumnuts, you do.
And fuck you running for the congratulatory, "Maybe I've done my part." Yes, Mac, you have, but so have the other cops who will still clock in tomorrow. You are such an insufferable, dripping cockspit. You want to retire? Then fucking retire. Don't use the possibility to beat yourself off and wallow in your pool of heroic laurels. Asswad.
And that is why no one needs to see my thoughts today.
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