I'm sick of seeing Christian Slater's Smirk-o-Tron Eyebrow leering at me from the billboard at Olympic and Westwood five days a week. I can't stand gazing up at that rumpled motherfucker David Duchovny and his pillowcase of a face at Westwood and Rochester. And even though the attempt to wallpaper L.A. in cheeky images of Michael C. Hall has moved beyond this ad,
all the new ads do is remind me of that creepy ass dead arm and ugh. Stop it, America. I'm not interested in this show and I'm not interested in purchasing any more narcotics to help me sleep at night.
I will say though, I'm surprised by how much better looking Michael C. Hall is in Dexter, because I remember that in the .2 picoseconds of Six Feet Under that I managed to sit through, I thought he had a Charlie Brown blockhead. But look! His longish serial killer locks actually make him look kind of handsome. Weird. America, we need to talk about this.
But before we start that discussion, I should re-emphasize that, no, I'm not interested in that jive ass show. I'm also not interested in Weeds, so quit trying to get me to watch that shit, too. Are you listening, Bernie? I'm not going to start watching Bones and I ain't going to start watching motherfucking Weeds!
Why am I so angry?!