Gilless. :(

As noted on Monday, a hot to trot complete series set (42 discs, 153 episodes) of Chicas Gilmore is coming in November, and I had immediately put it in my head that I would go out and sell my individual seasons for fun and profit. I didn't realize that that day would come so soon. I had some time to kill after school, and... I went... and sold them. And now, November feels very far away, and there is a hole in my life. I just want to say a couple of things. Thanks to Ashley for introducing me to the show during the salad days of our much lamented Tuesday TV night. Thanks to KJ for encouraging my mania. Thanks to Andrew for making as many gay jokes as possible at the height of my obsession. I truly believe that these jabs kept me from completely losing my mind with passion for the show. Thanks to Mandy, whose recent friendship and common interest in the subject matter reignited my love for the wacky denizens of Stars Hollow. And finally, thanks to my most cherished cousin Annie, who loaned me season one and five as I set about watching the show from end to end one last time (until the Christmas season, that is).

Actually, there's one more person to thank: Lauren Graham.



While not a part of my Holy Trinity of TV Babes, Lauren was really my most favorite small screen vixen after my Jennifer Aniston fascination fizzled and BJ (Before Jenna). That's... I don't like that. BJE (Before Jenna Era). Somewhat better. Anyhow, Ms. Graham went from being "that chick I remember from a couple episodes of Caroline in the City" to "that 'fuck me Santa' chick from Bad Santa" to a welcome sight each and every Tuesday night on the gone but not forgotten WB Network. While her show took a turn for the worse (and sometimes the patently absurd) in its last two seasons, Lauren (not to mention Scott Patterson, who as you'll see in the picture below, is like THE WORLD'S MOST AWESOME DUDE) kept me coming back every week. I hope she manages to get a meatier project than Evan Almighty in her next foray onto the big screen.


And I thought he was cool before I knew this.

As broken up as I am to be leading a life without Gilmore Girls, we're just one day shy of two months away from the fourth season premiere of the best show on television ever, The Office. I'm not supposed to mention such things when Andrew is in ear (or eye) shot, so I imagine he's trying to punch something right about now, wondering how he'll weather the next sixty days. Maybe this will help.


I've never hated text so much.