All apologies for the following post. I was waaaay overtired but needed to stick to my post a day.
It is very difficult to keep my eyes open today. After finishing the final episode of the IT Crowd (which, by the way, was the single worst final episode of a television program ever. Well, except for House M.D.) I was stumbling through the Netflix recommends page when I came across Sherlock. 2 1/2 episodes later I look at the clock and it was 4am. Sigh.
My name is Paul and I am hooked on British television.
I mean, really? I am 41 years old. It was understandable when I was 12 and I devoured every episode of Monty Python with a burning passion that only prepubecent boys can have for such things. That should be allowed. Encouraged, even. The fact that I have engaged people in hour long conversations over who the the best Dr. Who was…now that concerns me. Because it wasn’t when I was twelve. It was last week. In case you were wondering. It was John Pertwee. He knew Venusian Akido.
Ack! I’m doing it again. Stop it! I will control myself. I shall let all of this go and read my book. I am currently reading two books. Jim Butcher’s Turn Coat and Terry Prachett’s first Discworld novel….
It’s really gone too far hasn’t it. Next you will find me in someone’s backyard dressed like a wizard throwing spells at….
Oh. whatever. I give up. I’m a geek. Not just with T.V. but with pretty much every aspect of my life. Oh, sure. I will try and play it cool…but when do you just give up? 41? 55? 65? When do I admit that I owned a d100? That I knew all of the mosters stats by heart from the original Monster Manual. I like comic books. Golden age comic books. I guess the answer is here. Now.
If my wife can deal with it, I guess so can I.
p.s. Sherlock is flipping amazing.