Garbage Day, Issue 6: Winnie Bueller’s Day Off
I decided to drop the ranting (which is rarely intentional) and the contradicting myself *waves at Greg’s Brain Handles site* this week and make a shiny, happy blog – where people hold hands and love the sweetest villain ever – Jasmine (only “Angel” fans will get that). Gone are the days where I note that I tell my kids that I saw people getting slimed in the days when You [Couldn’t] Do That On Television - and by “gone”, I mean until next week when I start whining/ranting/making absolutely no sense (as opposed to making a smidgen of sense). Okay, obviously I shouldn’t be so optimistic as far as my ability to leave the rants behind (but hey – the first step’s admitting it) – I mean, it’s common knowledge that Charlton Heston stole “from my cold, dead hands” from me (but not, “Soylent Green is made from people!”) when he and I were at our Neckerchief Enthusiasts (N.E. – as in “not getting…”) meeting talking about someone ripping my ranting away…
So, “Futurama” is supposed to really be coming back, with at least new episodes – really this time – and everything (instead of the, we’ll show old episodes, maybe make a “movie” once a year, right after I take out the garbage, ma mantra…). This isn’t, by my standards, a big win, but it is a win. You know what they say – when life closes a door, it opens a window… this is more like opening one of those things on some doors that substitutes for a Peephole.
[here is where I would’ve started complaining resists urge to complain about some of the other shows “coming back” – *avoids RayJ’s eyes*]
I also heard (not directly, as I don’t watch “Late Night with Jimmy Fallon”) that a “Saved by the Bell” reunion is in the works. While I realize that by even mentioning this in a favorable light, my credibility is slipping further back than Donald Trump’s massive combover, I have to say – I’m so excited! I’m so excited! I’m so… I’m so… scared. *collapses into Carlisle’s arms sobbing, while clutching caffeine pills*
Ah, screw it – I can’t write as much when I’m not complaining. *STC readers breathe collective sighs of relief, having been given their first reprieve* So I’ll end this with the age-old question that leads into the meaning of life: So, how ‘bout that Lionel Richie?
Thanks for your time as always, guys!
Winnie
