Friday, March 27, 2009

New Phone

Originally uploaded by mygothlaundry
I have joined the Legions of the Doomed - no, wait, I mean the Legions of the SmartPhone owners. I have given up the DarthPhone (black, shiny, evil and mind bogglingly incompetent) and am now the proud owner of a green Palm Centro with a tiny, adorable keyboard I can barely see and a fancy touch screen that I don't understand at all. That's okay though. I look cool. Really cool. Like, this is a cool phone. I am back in the cool geeky kids club and no longer will I be sneered at because of the DarthPhone. Yes, okay, the iPhone people will still sneer at me but that's okay: I'm not worthy of an iPhone. I can't be, because as I have previously explained, I am, through some kind of hellish contract, permanently indentured to Sprint. Or I belong to them or something, as do my children even unto the seventh generation. I'm not sure. It's hard to read the fine print in that funky Gothic type and the blood it was written in has faded a bit. Nevertheless, I am sure of one thing: I will never be free. So I caved and got myself this nifty phone. Perhaps I will learn to use it someday. That will be nice. In the meantime, y'all will have to call me, because while I might be able to figure out how to answer it, actually making a call is going to take some studying.

My inner geek is strong these days. Last night I went into full geeky heaven mode: first I watched the last episode of the Tudors - here's the deal with the Tudors: the original decision to wildly miscast Henry VIII as a young, short guy is now coming back to haunt them big time. The next few episodes of Henry's life will make no sense at all unless you realize that by that time he was middle aged, fat, in pain a lot from a really gross wound of some kind that people don't get anymore, and completely batshit. The Tudors actor is a good actor, but he's young, skinny and (I guess) sane. He's doing a good job at batshit but the rest of it is just not following and that's too bad. Look, Tudors director: adventurous nontraditional casting is all very well but this is history, not fiction. Making somebody 20 years younger because you think that makes the sex scenes hotter is no doubt great for your bottom line but it completely fucks the narrative. Okay? Got it? Great. Oh, and I cried when Anne Boleyn died, so you're doing something right. - and then, I watched some Dr. Who.

Dr. Who! I love Dr. Who so much! How can I have let so much time - ten years or so? - go by without watching Dr. Who? And this new Dr. - Christopher Eccleston, the 9th Doctor - is even cute and sexy. Not as sexy as Tom Baker, no, but then who is?
Anyway, last night I watched one episode and it was totally great and I am all happy because I have more episodes to watch and I am perfectly content to curl up in the basement with all my damp smelly dogs and Pebble and watch the Doctor forever. More crazy rubber monsters! Mannequins on a killing spree! The Tardis! Ah, joy.

Woe. I just made the terrible mistake of googling. My cute doctor will be replaced in the time it takes me to finish watching this disc. Drat. Well, I'll still have the Tardis. And the rubber monsters. Maybe they'll even bring back K-9 for complete happiness.

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