Oct. 30th, 2009

opera142: (this shit is bananas)
Dear Brain,

The dozens of similes you're coming up with this morning are great and all, the mangy raccoon in a dumpster one in particular. However, I'd like to write in other ways too. Can a girl get a simple declarative?

Thanks-n-love,
me
opera142: (this shit is bananas)
1x2: lamers.

Let us count the cliches:

1: gruff boss.
2. new chick who's ready to do some fightin'
3. Question asked of new fightin' chick, where do you keep your gun?. Let me know when you're done gagging and I'll continue.

Ready?

How about now?

Breathe through your nose.

Good? Okay.

4. Middle-class FBI agent who works in the white-collar crimes division suddenly has v. expensive watch (a gift from his wife, you know) the day after they spent an afternoon in the FBI Seized Property storerooms. No one says anything.

5. So like, the witness's story for hearing the Bad Guy do his murdering was that she was in a closet getting her coat. Meanwhile, the weather for the entire episode was sunny and bright, with people trolling around Central Park in tiny running shorts & sleeveless tees, and nighttime rooftop parties where dozens of models wore teeny-tiny dresses.

6. It's a plan so crazy it just might work.

7. Kooky con-artist shows those agents a thing or two about stake-outs.

8. Bad guy has killed and killed and killed throughout the episode, but for whatever reason, doesn't kill the supermodel.


At least, M. Hardy wrestles a glump next week, and I know he'll fight the good fight and lose.

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