Watching A Muppet Christmas Carol, featuring the ever delightful Steven Macintosh as Fred, has thrown me into even greater depths of longing to go back in time to when I was visiting Becca in Utah and steal her edited copy of Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels.
Watching 15 episodes of Black Books (a British comedy in which most of the main characters are drunk and smoking most of the time) on Hulu in a 36 hour period made me startled to find bottles of Martinelli's in the fridge for Christmas Eve dinner, rather than cheap trashy wine. It's like how when we used to watch whole seasons of Alias and then expect to be fighting off enemy intelligence agents at every turn, but in this case I am just confused about not being sloshed 24/7 and wondering why people are ever expecting me to move from my chair. Something funny is that when I first watched this show several months ago I was put off by the drunkenness and ensuing squalor and general sloppiness, but giving it a second chance this week I have found myself the world's biggest fan of the main character never washing his hair or finishing a complete sentence and having to direct people around the dead badger in the middle of his shop. I hope Christy appreciates the extra effort I took to clean the house all the time while she was here because clearly in my heart of hearts I am wishing I could be a drunken Irish wastrel. Wow, I did not know how true that was until I typed it out. Now I feel unfulfilled. Merry Christmas.
1 comment:
Amen to that. Irish people make drunkenness into such an attractive quality. Such drunken charisma. It really is a wonder that they don't rule the world.
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