Wilfred is coming back for a final season, and I can’t wait. Wilfred is another one of those shows with that unique tonal flavor; dark, but with a half-twist of a smile, straddling clever writing and jokes about humping. I have no idea what to officially expect, mainly because I don’t watch trailers and commercials, and I don’t follow spoiler articles about guest stars and such. But I do know what I hope to see. Let’s refresh.
The cavalcade of mixed reactions to the conclusion of the “Pamela” three-parter is indicative of something positive about a show; that it is so highly affective that individual people will have remarkably different reactions. My experience live-tweeting it was met with a great deal of support and a little bit of ire. It isn’t wrong for people to question my feminism after my ultimately positive response. One of the advantages of feminism(s) is that the reactions and beliefs are varied, and in this specific instance, I will be departing from the mainstream of feminism by saying that the conclusion of Louie S4 was beautiful.
Do you remember what it was like being a kid?
OH. MY. GOD.
Ok. Here’s the problem, kids. I had thought that in order to give a decent rebuttal to our Kat’s take on the IT Crowd–which I have deemed hysterically funny and she finds lacking for various reasons–I would have to dip my toe into the pool of just why we think so alike yet so differently on various issues. We both come from the same demented genetic swimming pool, but with a slight generational gap (Hey! It’s only ten years and a bit, dammit!); and obviously different families, being cousins and all that. Problem is explaining all that turns into a friggin’ thesis, with stories that rival Shakespeare in terms of bloody comedy versus tragedy (with a writing style akin to Dr Seuss. Hop on Pop! Hop on Pop! Do Not Hop on Pop If He is Having Vietnam Flashback, Stop!). And with all the sidetracking I do? We’d be here forever. So I’m not going to bother with that right now and instead just explain why I’m so very right about this. Mostly because I’m the oldest and I said so.
So I sit here on a warm Friday night, warming my gullet with some Skinny shit vodka and diet coke It’s cucumber flavored vodka too. It smells a bit like a brand new purse and tastes like licking leather, which isn’t quite the same as toilet hooch (I’m guessing) but it’s enough to put me in that Orange Is The New Black zone. But I don’t want to binge on this, largely because I have work in the morning, but also because I swallowed the first season in one night and ended up forgetting half of it. I’ll be responding to this season in dribs and drabs over the weekend, decompressing slightly after each episode, as this leather liquor swirls in my gullet and the weekend passes. Continue reading