I don’t know if most of you realize this, but I don’t watch much television. Yes, it’s on; I look up from my computer to acknowledge obnoxious commercials, like the Shake Weight–which, by the way, looks like it’s practice for giving a SERIOUS hand job. But I mostly keep on the tube for background noise, because with my self-diagosed ADD, the stimulation is my yoga.
But I can’t help but take note when I’m on FacebookTwitterLinkedInBeyondBlackAndWhite on Sunday, and I notice that many of you run to your televisions like it’s Howdie Doodie time to catch the latest True Blood. I try not to take it personal that you all find some hot vampires more interesting than ME, but I’m gonna try and work that out with my therapist.
THEN last night, my ears piqued when my new Facebook friend Kimberly Jessy told me that in the latest epi, the black woman was having sex with a white guy like she was taking 148 years of THE STRUGGLE out on him, so, naturally I was intrigued.
So my fellow BB&W ladies, beside the appeal with hot sex with the cold un-dead, what the cuss is all the fuss? Should I peel the laptop off my lap for an hour on Sunday to watch? I’ll admit I’ve tried a couple times, but the storyline is just too far gone. Do they sell True Blood Cliff’s Notes a the Wal-Mart?
And, pray tell, what the hay-ell am I supposed to glean about the show watching this:
Meh. So besides the whole blood-around-the-mouth-eating-rats teaser, I STILL need convincing. Because, THAT. WAS. NOT. HOT.
Buuuut, I fancy myself a student of the world, so, I MIGHT COULD BE [sic] convinced.