DearSweetWhatTheMotherOfJeebusHOhMyStars

Sometimes I have real doubts about my taste in television.

So, I'm an avid Netflixer, right? Lately, though, it's been taking me forever to watch the discs; they just pile up while I seem to spend every night either (a) feeding, (b) playing , (c) walking or (d) all of the aforementioned with my puppy. Sometime around 11 p.m. each night, we both collapse into bed, discs and backed-up DVR fare completely untouched.

I pulled out my latest Netflix arrival tonight and watched The Lair, an original series from Here! TV about vampires at a "gentlemen's club," how they lure unsuspecting gay men to their grisly ends, and the intrepid reporter who's hot on their trail.

Total trash. Practically soft-core porn.

I love it.

Principally I love that guy up there, David Moretti, who plays the reporter.

I'm just sayin'.

Dig My Daemon, Yo.

Book Fare

Have you ever read a book and found yourself having several thoughts about it, all at once?

"God. This is depressing."

"I hate what's happening to these people."

"He did not just step on that and then pick it up and eat it."

"Jesus, what's going to happen next?!?"

This is one such book. I've avoided reading The Road 'cuz it just sounded too fucking depressing to be borne, but I recently finished Thunderstruck (another excellent read, though of the nonfiction variety), and it was sitting there on my desk, staring at me resentfully, so I decided I'd pick it up and ignore my latest New York magazine in favor of some decidedly heavier train reading.

I'm here to tell you: Read this book. I can't put it down.

I'm kinda resentful that I have to go to work; it's interrupting my reading. Hell, right now you're interrupting my reading.

Dog People Are Weird

There's something I've noticed about dog people. When two dog people meet while walking their dogs, they tend to greet the dogs, not the owners, as though they are, themselves, their dogs:

"Hello, Atticus! How are you? Oh, may I sniff your butt? Where are you running to?"

People have an infinite capacity for weirdness.