There. I’ve admitted it.
It started when I was living in Germany and there was nothing on TV in the afternoon and I had General Hospital on AFN in the background while I was putzing around the house.
I laughed at first at the stupid story lines.
Then I would glance at the screen to see who was talking.
Then I started to wonder if Felicia really was a Princess.
And then…
Well, 20 years later, I still tape the damned show and watch it when I get around to it…sometimes I can watch a whole week’s episodes in less than two hours on fast forward, and sometimes I actually watch the whole show.
I know…lowbrow, mindless, insipid crap…but I got me a jones.
I need that fix.
[The Scrivener makes a dramatic entrance from Stage Left, her hips swaying subtly as she sweeps in front of her inattentive, couch-bound, TV-addicted lover, DMark, and makes provocative, determined eye contact with him as she elegantly reaches towards him, in an almost genuflecting manner – revealing a teasing angle from above her straining scoop-necked sundress of the best augmented decollete that a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon can provide (with saline, not silicone, of course) – and firmly smoothes the remote control from his now slightly-perspiring palm.]
“DMark, dearest, love of my life? We need to talk… I think I’m pregnant.”
Just joking, of course. All I really want is for this cue to kick off a monster soap-parody thread, that it be featured in “Threadspotting,” and eventually get noticed elsewhere on the 'Net, however unlikely that may be.