Strikes Suck

You want to know something? I really like TV. I won't lie, I may be addicted. It is the crack to my Ho, the vodka to my alky, the entire pizza pie to my bulimic. I love it. So it should come to no surprise that the current writer's strike is causing me great pain. Of all the TV shows that I love, and there are quite a few, there is one that rises above with a form of addiction nearing hysteria, and that dear friends is Lost, Or as I like to say LLLOOOOOOSSSSSSSSTTTT (high pitched in a rambling up and down voice). Call me; I can give an impromptu version. When Lost decided to have its season run in order with no repeats, I was a happy camper. When realizing this meant Lost would not return until mid-January 2008, not so happy. But like many others in denial, it quickly was put of my mind. There were others to occupy my time, like AMC's Mad Men (which is awesome!), HBO's Tell Me You Love Me (which for some reason I like - must be the ass shots), and many more that I care not to list in fear that you will call an intervention on my TV watching arse. In all fairness, I would like to state that my TV watching is much less given the arrival of Owen - which totally and completely sucks balls. I kid, I kid. Actually the term "sucking balls" is pretty awesome, don't you think? I wonder who came up with it. I mean, in order to originate a term, you must have actually done it, right? I can see it now, a pair of guys standing there pushing a brick to the pyramid debating on how much the job just totally stinks, until one of them finally says "You know what Amenhotep? This job sucks balls, just take my word for it." And so I would like to ask whatever God is up there, to please end this writer's strike so that I can sit my bum in front of the TV and rot my brain. Thank you very much.