Oh, my show, how I still love thee
Apr. 26th, 2005 09:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
perpetual_motionYou know what's still a kickass show? The Pretender. You remember:
There are Pretenders among us. Geniuses with the ability to be anyone they want to be.
In 1963 a corporation known at The Centre isolated a young Pretender named Jaord, and exploited his genius for their research.
Then one day, their Pretender ran away.
[cue music]
The scary thing? I've watched the entire first season in about four days' time, so I wrote that intro without having to look it up.
Oh, Jarod, what a sweet, crazy bastard you are. You love your Pez, your helpless people, and driving Miss Parker fucking bonkers. You are still wonderfully twisted and enjoyable to watch. Your fascination with all things sugary never fails to make me love you more.
Oh, Miss Parker, why must all other women on television fall below your greatness? You are smart, vicious, and can actually wear the tiny skirts without making it seem like you're a huge ho. Be my mentor. Teach me the ways of your bitterness and determined ladder climbing. Teach me the ways in which you get your legs. You have hot legs.
Oh, Sydney, you're such a nice man. You can't help but laugh when your little lab monkey gets the best of you. You're so proud. But part of you is so sad. Is it Jacob? I think it's Jacob. Well, Jacob loves you. He doesn't blame you for the coma. He knows you didn't mean it.
Oh, Mr. Raines, you are an evil, smoking, oxygen-tank wielding bastard. Part of me loves you for your bastardness. The rest of me hates you because, dude, *evil*. But, if I must decide, I would rather have you evil and wheezing than in any other way.
Oh, Mr. Parker, you are an unmitigated jackass who lies to his daughter, and that is all I wish to say about you.
Oh, Angelo, best friend to the venilation system of The Centre. I love you. You are creepy but sincere, and you have the cutest puppy hair when you don't shave it off for kicks. Your love of Cracker Jacks just makes me warm and fuzzy. If I ever must have a severely damaged individual who can absorb my every feeling, I hope it's you.
Oh, The Centre, you have always been in my heart. You are much cooler now than when you disguised yourself as Genomex for Mutant X. You are creepy and oddly lit, and I love that you had that whole secret sub-level with the shackles and the burnt up jack-in-the-box. You are my creepy contentment, and I revel in you.
Oh, people reading this, I am not crazy. Go grab the first season and remember the love.
There are Pretenders among us. Geniuses with the ability to be anyone they want to be.
In 1963 a corporation known at The Centre isolated a young Pretender named Jaord, and exploited his genius for their research.
Then one day, their Pretender ran away.
[cue music]
The scary thing? I've watched the entire first season in about four days' time, so I wrote that intro without having to look it up.
Oh, Jarod, what a sweet, crazy bastard you are. You love your Pez, your helpless people, and driving Miss Parker fucking bonkers. You are still wonderfully twisted and enjoyable to watch. Your fascination with all things sugary never fails to make me love you more.
Oh, Miss Parker, why must all other women on television fall below your greatness? You are smart, vicious, and can actually wear the tiny skirts without making it seem like you're a huge ho. Be my mentor. Teach me the ways of your bitterness and determined ladder climbing. Teach me the ways in which you get your legs. You have hot legs.
Oh, Sydney, you're such a nice man. You can't help but laugh when your little lab monkey gets the best of you. You're so proud. But part of you is so sad. Is it Jacob? I think it's Jacob. Well, Jacob loves you. He doesn't blame you for the coma. He knows you didn't mean it.
Oh, Mr. Raines, you are an evil, smoking, oxygen-tank wielding bastard. Part of me loves you for your bastardness. The rest of me hates you because, dude, *evil*. But, if I must decide, I would rather have you evil and wheezing than in any other way.
Oh, Mr. Parker, you are an unmitigated jackass who lies to his daughter, and that is all I wish to say about you.
Oh, Angelo, best friend to the venilation system of The Centre. I love you. You are creepy but sincere, and you have the cutest puppy hair when you don't shave it off for kicks. Your love of Cracker Jacks just makes me warm and fuzzy. If I ever must have a severely damaged individual who can absorb my every feeling, I hope it's you.
Oh, The Centre, you have always been in my heart. You are much cooler now than when you disguised yourself as Genomex for Mutant X. You are creepy and oddly lit, and I love that you had that whole secret sub-level with the shackles and the burnt up jack-in-the-box. You are my creepy contentment, and I revel in you.
Oh, people reading this, I am not crazy. Go grab the first season and remember the love.
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no subject
on 2005-04-26 04:11 pm (UTC)And you see part of his ass.
no subject
on 2005-04-26 04:22 pm (UTC)And, oh, I've been wanting to watch Sports Night again! I just used the word 'momentarily' in a work-related email, and felt like I was channelling Dana!