As a result of the writer’s strike, my brain is forced to entertain itself. The other night, I dreamed an entire 30-minute episode of 30 Rock. It wasn’t as crazy as one of Tracy Jordan’s dreams, but it had its moments. Some highlights:· Tracy and Josh were making out because Josh was trying to make his female characters “more authentic.”
· Floyd was visiting from Cleveland but, because Liz was anti-Christmas, he couldn’t take her back.
· Liz tried to prove that she was so into Christmas, she was practically the second coming of Christ (her words), so she decorated the writer’s room with a dozen NFL-themed Christmas trees, but Floyd isn’t convinced
· Jenna tries to eat her weight in candy corn because she misses the attention of being fat.
Ultimately, what this all means is that I am going through serious withdrawal from lack of original, scripted programming. I know that I’ve got some new Boston Legals to go through, but what happens when those run out?! I’m slightly thankful for new Prison Breaks, but am getting tired of how contrived it’s become (other viewers have come to this conclusion months ago, but I still had hope that they would give T-Bag more to do, I couldn’t have been more wrong). I don’t know how many ERs they have left in the can, but it’s all I have left of a once glorious NBC Thursday night lineup. The way John Stamos’ Tony Gates is working his way through doctors and nurses alike is way more exciting than anything that’s happening on “Celebrity” Apprentice.
So please: Studios, Writers, I don’t know how much more of this I can take! I beseech you to come to a decision before anyone else thinks it’s a good idea to give Donald Trump any more shows.
Yours in Desperation,
The Popmaiden
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