Not going to work on a weekday and staying in a place where there are only the standard TV channels and no option to stick my HDD into the TV got me re-acquainted with such pearls of morning TV as 30-min discussion of bows on toiler paper, even longer discussion of a somewhat-famous couple enjoying sakura viewing in a park (seriously, what the fluff goes through people’s heads when they think it’s necessary to take pictures of two people sitting on grass in a park and looking at trees and then discuss every angle of those pictures at length on national tv?), and a very detailed discussion of the Imperial couple’s outfits as they pay last homage in shrines around the country before abdication. (Still better than what I caught on CNN and BBC before changing the channel though.)

In short, it’s days like this when I really begin to despise that part of my broken mind that makes me unable to function without having some kind of TV noise in the background…because no matter how much I try to concentrate on something else, time after time I catch glimpses of something that just sends the ‘damn, I really can’t understand or feel any kind of affinity with this humanity’ thought shooting through my mind.

Sometimes I forget how English humor tends to be, but then I catch something like ‘Vexed’ on Netflix by accident and can’t believe I could’ve forgotten…

in most of the stories I read/watch, there comes a point where I wish a could stop it and re-write it differently (aka the point where I’ll likely will have to stop watching).

For example, in the Good Wife I was playing at the background for a while…
… I personally think it would be a much better story if they killed off the husband, and not whom they did kill off (spoiler alert, kinda)
(though then she would have to be the Good Widow)