After the shopping, and the lifting, and the writting and the cleaning....
...there is STILL nothing good on television this time of year. Not a single solitary quality program. The only bright spot was the 'Unique Whips' update show, where we find that Will is Moving his business to Miami. Kinda a shitty time to move a high-end auto customizing business to Miami, but his celebrity clientele are probably at least somewhat recession-proof.
I posted in my MySpace blog about some negativity with a FORMER-friend, and I really don't wanna rehash it here, since I am trying to forget the guy exists. SOOOOO, back to the TV.
Honestly, Microsoft and Netflix deserve some sort of Geek prize, because Netflix/Xbox Live Instant Watch is totally helping a bitch out whenever I am home with nothing to do after the above activities.
As an aspiring screenwriter AND as a gay man, I now have new appreciation for the following sentiment: Most Gay movies SUCK. Their Shiteousness knows few bounds. The European ones are only better because they usually have more interesting cinematography and more frontal male nudity and sex scenes. But usually, they are pretty craptacular as well. I have watched many of them on Netflix, and I am appreciative that I did not have to go out and PAY to watch those movies in a theatre. If I had, there would be a growing list of gay filmmakers who would owe me 10 dollars plus gas money.
January, for even MORE reasons now, cannot come soon enough. I have a trip to Miami for my Tennis tournament. The Australian Open starts (which I WILL be watching in HD, damn it!!)...and of COURSE two of my absolute FAVORITE TV shows are coming back on: Battlestar Galactica and Damages.
I have been DYING for Damages to come back on, ESPECIALLY after seeing the promo for season 2, where Rose is supposed to take her money, her promotion and shut up, and conveniently FORGET that Patty (Glen Close) tried to kill her. The DRAMA!!! And any show where Glen Close gets to chew scenery is Emmy-material by default. Which brings me to a movie I want to go see with some folks this coming weekend: Doubt. Meryl Streep and Phil Seymour Hoffman in a Nunn vs. Priest Bitchery showdown as she tries to investigate claims that Phil Seymour's character has been molesting young men and boys. She is back in Devil Wears Prada cunty mode in this film, folks.
Alrighty, I have a novel to finish, Alistair Reynolds' Redemption Arc. I am re-reading, as it's actually my favorite of the Revelation Space trilogy, as we meet Skade, a woman whose beef with Neville Clavain makes Captain Ahab's beef with Moby Dick look like a disagreement over too much starch.
I posted in my MySpace blog about some negativity with a FORMER-friend, and I really don't wanna rehash it here, since I am trying to forget the guy exists. SOOOOO, back to the TV.
Honestly, Microsoft and Netflix deserve some sort of Geek prize, because Netflix/Xbox Live Instant Watch is totally helping a bitch out whenever I am home with nothing to do after the above activities.
As an aspiring screenwriter AND as a gay man, I now have new appreciation for the following sentiment: Most Gay movies SUCK. Their Shiteousness knows few bounds. The European ones are only better because they usually have more interesting cinematography and more frontal male nudity and sex scenes. But usually, they are pretty craptacular as well. I have watched many of them on Netflix, and I am appreciative that I did not have to go out and PAY to watch those movies in a theatre. If I had, there would be a growing list of gay filmmakers who would owe me 10 dollars plus gas money.
January, for even MORE reasons now, cannot come soon enough. I have a trip to Miami for my Tennis tournament. The Australian Open starts (which I WILL be watching in HD, damn it!!)...and of COURSE two of my absolute FAVORITE TV shows are coming back on: Battlestar Galactica and Damages.
I have been DYING for Damages to come back on, ESPECIALLY after seeing the promo for season 2, where Rose is supposed to take her money, her promotion and shut up, and conveniently FORGET that Patty (Glen Close) tried to kill her. The DRAMA!!! And any show where Glen Close gets to chew scenery is Emmy-material by default. Which brings me to a movie I want to go see with some folks this coming weekend: Doubt. Meryl Streep and Phil Seymour Hoffman in a Nunn vs. Priest Bitchery showdown as she tries to investigate claims that Phil Seymour's character has been molesting young men and boys. She is back in Devil Wears Prada cunty mode in this film, folks.
Alrighty, I have a novel to finish, Alistair Reynolds' Redemption Arc. I am re-reading, as it's actually my favorite of the Revelation Space trilogy, as we meet Skade, a woman whose beef with Neville Clavain makes Captain Ahab's beef with Moby Dick look like a disagreement over too much starch.