Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Everything Old is Regurgitated Again

Oh, Miss Quinn. I suppose when a great writer dies, anything written about that person in short lines is a poem worthy of The New Yorker. You and Jean Valentine should be ashamed. Also, JD McClatchy' weedy poetry again? The man needs to learn how to prune.

Yesterday was a wreck. When I came home, I put on Eureka and didn't turn it off but only half-watched it. Mediocre and mundane. Kind of like what happened to The 4400.

I'm a little ill, a little lonesome, a little depressed. Need a posse. And a free gym. And so on.

Hoorah for Mad Men's second season pickup!


Wow. NBC has balls.

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In summing up, I wish I had some kind of affirmative message to leave you with. I don't. Would you take two negative messages?
-- Woody Allen