I’m in full-on, never-leave-the-house, forget-to-eat, sleep-weird-hours writing mode. About 14 pages into a new pilot, I’m doing my very best to avoid that fucking bitch Procrastination. Not easy. She looks somewhat like Cat Deeley, shares her lilting accent and likes to whisper sweet nothings like, “Five minutes on Facebook won’t hurt you.” She is such a whore.
While I will, with out a doubt, step away from the script to enjoy tonight’s Top Ten SYTYCDDRevolution, I won’t be writing about it. At least not any time soon. But don’t fret, a couple weeks from now the one and only Matthew Murphy will be joining me for a trip to Vegas to see Lady B get her awesome on. We should be to our hotel in time for the Top 6 performance show and if all goes according to plan, we’ll be live blogging in tandem. I think it’ll be special. For us anyway.
And if you’re looking for a little Summertime Funtime TV, may I suggest Warehouse 13? It’s surprisingly delightful considering it’s unabashedly ripping off everything that’s come before. Alan hits it on the head.
