Well... maybe not. I hate you, Studio 60, and I'm starting to hate you with a passion normally reserved for recent episodes of The Simpsons. But maybe, just maybe, I want to see you run yourself into the ground.
I remember your first episode, Studio 60. I kept saying, to no one in particular, "Oh my god, this is a good show. This show is so good. Oh man, I love this show." For the whole hour! Never have I loved a show so much at first blush. I thought, wow, finally a show that rips the curtain away and shows network TV for what it is! Finally! The bare naked ugly truth for all of the flyover states to see! Sad that I myself won't get to kill people's dreams about the glamor of Hollywood, which I do so relish, but still! Awesome! This is an important, timely, insightful show!
I must have been drunk.
I reluctantly half watched last week's episode last night, due to TIVO not picking up the fact that Desperate Housewives was a repeat, therefore not recording Battlestar Galactica at 9:00 but instead at midnight, and me not really caring about Housewives much anymore, I didn't want to watch a god damned rerun for sure, which is why, naughty TIVO, I told you to only get NEW episodes. It is possible that the network swapped out a new episode for the rerun at the last minute and TIVO didn't know - I suspect the whole Marcia Cross is totally wicked pregnant situation - but if not, TIVO, you're grounded, mister.
At any rate, I watched Studio 60 even after I'd read the recaplette and decided that I hate it more than life itself and should just delete it and be done with the whole thing.
Though I suppose it is rather topical in that it demonstrated all the signs us ladies should know to identify a crazy fucking asshole stalker in the early stages of said obsession, though it also helpfully reassures us that when we firmly say "no thank you," the stalker will helpfully refuse, a good thing of course, since us ladies are really stupid and don't know what's good for us.
I'd also like to thank Studio 60 for reminding me why I don't watch SNL any more: Dolphin Laugh Girl! Husky Gymnast! Rare African Militant Fruit of the Loom! Wow, how did I ever tear myself away from the hilarity?
Seriously Studio 60, are you fucking kidding me? It would be one thing if your show within the show were in anyway, oh, what's the word I'm looking for, oh yes, TOLERABLE. It's not. In any way whatsoever.
And what about the whole FCC/ swearing soldier/ Macao merger whatever the fuck it is? First of all, what IS the Macao thing? Wait, scratch that. Don't explain. I don't care. In the least. And all the bullshit wife/daughter translating the "man to man" conversation between the WTF Macao guy and the guy from Wings? I assume that was some kind of comment on... what, exactly? Freedom of the Press? Children as chattel? Pissing matches by proxy? Global warming? The situation with the salad bar over on the lot? Wow, Studio 60, thanks for bringing that to light... whatever it was. No no, don't speak.
And don't even get me started on the 1) religious debate/ middle states are people too/ I hate you but you can't date anyone else and that's really romantic way overacted Matt and annoying as all get out Dolphin Girl thing or B) the "There's another pretty girl at the party - and she's not pregnant" completely and absolutely pointless "oh - we're 10 pages short this week - let's add a reality TV arc" thing. My blood is already boiling with utter, bottomless, infinite loathing, the likes of which my body has not endured since seeing Stargate.
I take it back. I will enjoy watching the painful, drawn out, grindingly offensive, holier than thou, lacking in any kind of thought provocation short of "I hate - HATE! - this show and everything about it" train wreck that is you, Studio 60. I will relish it with a gusto reserved for sleeping late and mocking tourists. My pleasure at your cancellation will know no bounds. The sound of you being ripped from the schedule and from the fabric of space-time itself will resound through my whole body, and through the ages. It will be slow, painful, and delicious beyond measure.
Like ripping off a festering scab, I will continue to watch you and suffer the exquisite torture you inflict, Studio 60. Your TIVO Season Pass shall remain intact until the bitter, yet so, so sweet end.
But I'm totally fast forwarding through that Macao bullshit.
my contempt for you is darker than my very soul!