As I think about it, there are actually very few things about which I’m embarrassed. I don’t, for instance, kick puppies or bite my nails, and I’m invariably polite to people… ,even when I shouldn’t be. Like the cranky old supermarket bagger lady who seems to take a perverse pleasure in crushing my eggs and bread. In fact I make a point of actively avoiding the line where she’s bagging, but I swear she sees me coming every time and the next thing I know my grapes are all in a squishy mess underneath the soup cans… ,but I digress. Where was I?
Ah, yes the writer’s strike. Something I actually am a little embarrassed about is that the screenwriter’s strike is starting to make me a little antsy. Daily Show and Colbert? Gone. And it’s not like I’m even a big TV watcher by any stretch, so just those two shows alone meant a lot to me… ,but now what’s going to happen to Heroes? ,Or the Bionic Woman? ,At least there’s some Battlestar coming back and whatever reruns of Mythbusters and Dirty Jobs I can catch on my homemade DVR…, good lord, this strike has finally exposed me for what I really am: ,a TV addict. ,(And a nerdy one at that.)
So what does this mean? ,Are there any twelve-step groups out there for me? ,How does that work? Do I have to take Jesus into my life? ,I hope not, because he and I don’t really have much in common, except maybe some facial hair and a slight persecution complex. ,See?, I’m rambling again.
All right, calm down, boy. It’ll be fine. This writer’s strike is just like any other passing storm;, I’ll just hunker down in the root cellar of my dvr and pass the time with some Iron Chef. Yeah, Alton Brown is always there for me, strike or no strike, and that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.