Chris eats squid in ink sauce.

Hey everybody!  Let me start today with a bold proclamation: this is going to my favorite blog ever.  Now, I certainly don’t have the hubris to say that my writing will be particularly good.  It will be funny in a lukewarm sort of way and rife with grammatical errors like it always is.  However, I had more fun researching today’s entry than any other post I’ve done for this site.  Apparently, I entered the perfect combination of unrelated words into my search engine and I can’t wait to show you what I stumbled upon.  But let’s not get ahead of ourselves!  Please, friends, strap yourselves in and get ready to learn way too much about…

Squid in Ink Sauce!

Typical...

It has been three full months since last I sampled some gross-looking food for your amusement, my dear readers.  It looks like that streak is about to come to an end.  Today’s taste test began like all the others…while walking around in my local Whole Foods looking for stuff that might make me dry heave.  Let me tell you, folks…no marginally-popular-blogger-with-an-infrequently-recurring-food-testing-feature worth his or her salt would pass up a can of squid in ink sauce!  It’s irresistible!  But before we crack the lid and dig in, let’s learn a little something about the fascinating sea beast I’m about to put in my tummy tum tum!

A squid in the wild.

Squid are terrifying alien creatures that would sooner eat your face than look at you.  Unlike their cousin, the cuddly octopus, squid have 10 arms (the standard 8 limbs plus 2 long tentacles to drag sailors to the murky depths of the sea to be consumed, body and soul).  Squid possess something called salivary papilla.  Oh, you haven’t heard of salivary papilla?  Let me fill you in, dummy!  You know that little mouth that shoots out of the alien in Alien?  Bingo!  Salivary papilla is a toothy extension of the squid’s tongue that it uses to drill into shell and bone.  Also, squid ACTUALLY SECRETE ACID FROM THEIR MOUTHS, so…yeah.

This is to scale.

Squid do not socialize with other squid.  They generally keep to themselves and make fiendish plans with their unnervingly large brains.  Squid are the Unabombers of the ocean.  They also get around like underwater Blue Angels.  Squid have built in jets that propel water out their butts fast enough that squid can travel 25 mph in deep water.  And guess what…they can grow to be big.  Really, really big.  The Colossal Squid has been estimated to reach 46 feet long.  Its eyes are 16 inches across (like an extra-large pizza).  As if that wasn’t bad enough, the skin of a squid is covered in chromatophores which change color faster than any land animal.  Squid are better chameleons than chameleons are.  Watch this.  Seriously...watch this.

Alright, I’m about to tell you a story that begins with me researching this article and ends with a Japanese sex doll.  While I was bouncing around websites I remembered a podcast I heard a few months ago about octopi (not quite squid but close enough).  I suggest you give it a listen…it’s really good.  Anyhow, the affable hosts describe something called the Pillow Octopus.  This stuck in my mind because the male Pillow Octopus is a few centimeters long and the female Pillow Octopus is 40,000 times that size.  AND THEY STILL GET IT ON!!!  That’s like an average sized man getting down and dirty with a woman 4 times the size of The Statue of Liberty!  If you’re wondering about the logistics of this sinful act, the male Pillow Octopus holds its sperm in one of its tiny little arms, BREAKS THAT ARM OFF ITS BODY and gives it to the female to get the job done.  Nature!

Now, that’s some interesting stuff and I wanted to find a cool picture to post of the Pillow Octopus for your enjoyment at home.  Being the naïve young lad that I am, I typed “pillow octopus” into Google image search and was simply astounded by what I found.  As it turns out, there is an “octopus pillow” on the market from Japan that is meant to be voraciously humped by lonely women.  To give you a glimpse behind the curtain here at Internuts Headquarters, I actually spit coffee out of my mouth when I found this.  AND IT GETS BETTER!  The manufacturers of this plush, pink invertebrate (you’d think they’d want it to have a bone…ZING!) were nice enough to offer their own selling points.  The following is transcribed EXACTLY as I found it…

Have you ever envied your friends for owning so lovely a toy pillow? We are so excited to recommend you such bracelet. This toy pillow is perfect for pretend play, nap time, lounging and kids room decor. Surely your friends will envy you the other way round on condition that you home such a toy pillow by yourself.

Wait...

Many girls like toys, so boyfriend often buy some animal toys for their girlfriend. If you are worried what you should buy for you girlfriend, come on! We will introduce this octopus pillow to you. This octopus pillow will be your best choice for you. When your girlfriend received the stuffed octopus toy, she will feel you are always with her. She will never be afraid on a dark night because your octopus pillow will be her good fellow, it will always stay with her. These plush stuffed animals feature super cozy material, touches soft and comfortable. Of course you can decorate your room with it! Wherever you are at home, office or car, it will be a good accessory for your room. Your family also likes it.

Wait...what?!?

You guys, I’ve been reading and re-reading those two paragraphs all day.  I’m considering having them both chiseled on my tombstone.  I hope you find that as funny as I do because bringing this octopus pillow to the attention of a wider audience has become my new goal in life.

What were we talking about?  Ahh, squid in ink sauce!  At this point, I’m only barely paying attention to the food I’m supposed to eat.  Eating squid doesn’t really phase me.  I’ve had calamari plenty of times and I’ve eaten squid at sushi bars before.  What really got be riled up was the ink.  Squid ink is composed primarily of melanin (which gives it the dark color) and mucus.  That’s gross.  In the wild the squid will squirt a large cloud of ink as a “smokescreen” to confuse predators.  They will also produce smaller, denser globules of ink to act as decoys.  This behavior is way too smart for an invisible monster with acid saliva!

Seriously?

I pop the top of my tin of squid and take a sniff.  It smells fishy.  This is to be expected, I suppose.  The squid is broken into smallish chunks but the overall appearance is disconcerting.  The ink is black and oily.  I spear a particularly succulent looking hunk of squid and give it a taste.  Well, it’s pretty good!  The color is very off-putting but it tastes like any other piece of squid.  A little rubbery but pleasant enough.  There is a bunch of salt in the ink sauce (probably as a preservative) but it takes the edge off nicely.  I would not hesitate to try squid in ink sauce again but I might close my eyes while I do it.

Try to not think of this when you go to sleep tonight!

Alrighty, Internuts!  That brings us to the conclusion of today’s installment.  I hope you learned a little something about squid.  I hope you learned a lot about Japanese hump octopi.  I am still hard at work on The Top Secret Internuts Project and will unveil it as soon as possible.  Until then, I’ll try to be more diligent about putting out a new blog post each week.  Until next time!

Chris teases you a little bit...

Hey you guys!  I've been hard at work at the Secret Internuts Project but I wanted to give you a first look at the progress that's been made so far so you don't think I've been napping this whole time (I've only been napping most of this time).  Take a listen and keep checking in for the finished product (it'll probably be a few weeks).  


Say hi to your mother for me,
Chris

Chris goes to Restoration Hardware for the first time.

Howdy!  It is so hot outside, you guys.  If you’re anything like me you are whiling away these dog days by filling your bathtub with frozen margarita mix and rhythmically dunking your lower body like steeping a tea bag (pun intended?).  It really takes the edge off!  Anyhow, I hope you’re all staying cool during this heat wave in the northeast.  While we’re all dunking our business-ends in tequila slurry, do you mind if I ask you a question?  Have you ever heard of a store called Restoration Hardware?


I certainly hadn’t until a few weeks ago.  I stumbled upon it whilst walking around the King of Prussia {(I lay this hate on you) That reference is for about 6 Phish fans in my reading audience} mall with my unfailingly patient lady friend.  I’m a noted window shopper (my blog-writer’s salary does not provide me with the luxury of window buying) and I’m usually happy enough to walk around a store and make fun of all the dumb stuff held within.  Well, Restoration Hardware seemed like a harmlessly silly furniture store until I glanced at a price tag.  Then, they became the subject of today’s entry…

Restoration Hardware is for dumb, rich jerks.

      

That’s right.  The sound you just heard was me throwing a gauntlet...DOWN!  It’s a good thing I carry an assortment of gauntlets in a burlap sack around my neck!  Now, before we get started, I want to make it plain that I don’t dislike rich people.  I'm not here to start a class war.  There are plenty of people who busted their asses to accrue some modicum of wealth and they have every right to spend it however they see fit.  But, if you do have some money in the bank and you spend a significant amount of it at Restoration Hardware you are a dumb, rich jerk.*  I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you...


*Restoration Hardware: You can still sponsor this blog if you want to.  I am an abject whore to corporate sponsorship!

I’m guessing that many of you, like myself, had no idea that Restoration Hardware even existed.  For a proper introduction, here’s the company’s CEO, Gary Friedman, with the most pretentious mission statement in the history of the world…

“I can’t get no satisfaction.”

Those famous words, belted out by Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones in 1965, established the group as defiant troublemakers, and the leaders of rock ’n’ roll’s anti-establishment movement. In a 1992 Vanity Fair profile Mick said, “I wasn’t trying to be rebellious in those days. I was just being me.” Forty-eight years later, as I witness Sir Mick (knighted in 2003 for his services to music) on stage at this year’s Grammys, he remains passionate, ageless, completely authentic and clearly...unsatisfied.

Let us all find inspiration from “just being me.”

In the past year, while many chose to lower quality to reduce prices, we chose to be the defiant troublemakers of our industry, raising quality and elevating design. Today’s Restoration Hardware is a personal expression of what we believe in, design we are passionate about, produced by artisans who in their own right are creating a cultural revolution.  

Are we defiant troublemakers?

If it means being able to move onstage like Sir Mick, sign me up.

In the spirit of “just being me,” we will continue to push the boundaries, be authentic to our own unique point of view, never tire, and refuse to act our age. Because we, like the Stones...“Can’t get no...satisfaction.”

Carpe Diem,

Gary Friedman

Gary Friedman vs Mick Jagger.  Advantage: Jagger.

Yikes.  That is the single douchiest thing I’ve ever read.  Here’s the gist of the message, as I understand it: 

1. The CEO of Restoration Hardware still considers Mick Jagger to be a “defiant troublemaker,” ignoring the fact that Mick Jagger eats mashed up bananas and sits on a hemorrhoid donut.

2. The CEO of Restoration Hardware considers himself to be a “defiant troublemaker," ignoring the fact that he is the CEO of a ludicrously expensive furniture company.

3. The CEO of Restoration Hardware COULD NOT RESIST the urge to mention that he went to the Grammys.

4. It is better to raise the price of your products to ridiculous heights during a recession because of quality and artisans and blah blah blah…

5. Carpe diem?  As a sign-off?  On the website for your overpriced furniture store?  People who are actually seizing the day never write "seize the day" on things...especially not in Latin.

So, we’ve established that Restoration Hardware is run by a bunch of rich, annoying baby boomers…but what company isn't?  The worth of any retailer is found in the quality and desirability of its products.  Look at Baby Gap!  Babies love corduroy (it's the ridges!).  The time has come to look at the merchandise available at your local Restoration Hardware.  I'm pretty sure that this store was designed specifically for rich, recently divorced dudes who are trying to put together a "hip" urban apartment to impress drunk girls.  Every piece of furniture screams, "I am still young and I will pay for your yoga lessons if you'll sleep with me."  Take a gander at this...

Ignore the chalky taste in your wine cooler and admire this supple leather!

Now, I'm not going to lie to you nice people...that looks nice.  I like a worn leather couch as much as the next God fearing gentleman!  But what do you think it would cost to put that room together?  Did you guess 11 fucking thousand dollars?!?  Of course you didn't guess that!  That's an absurd amount of money to pay for a couch, a chair and a dumb coffee table with wheels on it!  It's an absurd amount of money to pay for ANYTHING!  But that, ladies and gentleman, is the tip of the price gouging iceberg.  How about this chair...

This Rocketeer chair...

Costs $1595.  That's more money than most jet-packs cost (Nazi-retardant chewing gum is extra).

Or this enormous, cast iron bull head...

This costs $595...

This costs $150...and some bull semen.

Or this 8 foot tall Eiffel Tower...

This costs $1745...

This cost 8 million Francs...the equivalent of $1745 (this is a lie).

And finally, please admire this chair...

This costs $2125.

This is awesome.

In summation, don't buy this stuff!  If you win the lottery...DON'T BUY THIS STUFF, DUMMY!  If you can afford it you should have enough common sense to avoid it at all costs.  I've certainly had a checkered past with IKEA but they produce a semi-decent product for an extremely reasonable price.  And IKEA stores smell like meatballs and cinnamon buns.  Restoration Hardware stores smell like smugness and roofies.  

Well, that's all for now my friends!  As I alluded to previously, I am hard at work on a secret project that will be added to this site as soon as possible.  I don't want to get your hopes up but it WILL CURE CANCER (please note: the Secret Internuts Project will certainly not cure cancer).  Thanks for waiting for this, friends, and I swear I'll make the wait worthwhile.  (Again: I will not actually be curing cancer).  I'll seeya back here real soon!

Chris reveals the secrets of the internet.

Hey, everybody!  Can you believe it’s the middle of July already?  It’s crazy!  Time keeps on slippin’ (slippin’, slippin’) into the future.  For those of you who are interested, I’m still going (99.9%) strong with my anti-smoking campaign.  I bummed one cigarette over the weekend in a moment of weakness and immediately felt guilty about it.  Don’t look at me that way.  If I can’t be completely honest with the faceless* readers of this blog, who can I be honest with?  But, it was a passing indiscretion and I’ve been firmly on the wagon ever since.  But enough about my courageous battle with addiction!  Today’s post is sort of a stopgap while I finish writing a longer (read: better) entry for later this week.  In the meantime, I’ve scoured the whole of the internet to provide you with some of my favorite videos.  So sit back, click away, and I’ll meet you back here in a few days!


*I imagine most of you literally do not have faces, like the British kids in The Wall.


Before we start with the videos, I was recently made aware of a website that pastes actor Steve Buscemi's eyes onto the faces of attractive women.  The results are more than a little disturbing...

Here's Christina Henricks from Mad Men.

Here's Anne Hathaway.

Now, try to forget I showed you those pictures.  It's impossible!


Here's an awesome mashup of a bunch of different people playing Radiohead's "Paranoid Android."  Whoever edited this did an amazing job.

Here's a Russian(?) guy mashing two kittens together with car crash sounds added.  Yeah, I don't know either.

Want to see a little kid dancing to "Thriller" on a Jumbo Tron?  Here it is anyway!

Speaking of cats (were we speaking of cats?), here's a cat yelling like a human person.

And finally, here's a video representation of an improvised sketch from the fantastic Superego podcast.

I hope you enjoyed, loyal Internuts, and I'll be back soon with something new for you to read!

Chris quits smoking.

Hi there, loyal reader!  I am so happy to be here with you; metaphorically spooning you atop a silken bed of topical comedy writing.  As promised, I have been taking some extended breaks from the blog to enjoy the summer months.  Don’t judge me.  So far I have chased lightning bugs, rode my wagon down a hill, splashed in a stream, relaxed in my tree fort, and had adventures with my anthropomorphic tiger pal, Hobbes.  I certainly haven’t been spending most of my time in a cold, fluorescent-lit, gray office.  That would be, like, SO depressing.

My summer?

Speaking of the trials of adulthood, I also quit smoking cigarettes a little over a month ago.  I know, I know, I know…I’m great.  To be completely honest, I‘ve had some crazy writer’s block since I quit.  Please, please forgive the infrequency of my posts and I promise to start churning them out again in the immediate future.  I have been smoking on and off (mostly on) since I was a college freshman.  I certainly don’t condone smoking but it was a hectic time at school.  The warring between the campus a cappella groups (The Sing Dynasty and The Triceratones) had escalated and, in the winter of 2001, I found myself in a foxhole with a friendly baritone named Rob McKiernan.  Rob was a funny kid and he smoked like a chimney.  One cold night, Rob reached into his jacket for his pack of Luckies.  A haunting, unaccompanied rendition of Billy Joel’s “She’s Got a Way” split the crystalline air and, before I could react, an alto named Lucy DeSalves snuck up behind Rob and stabbed him through the heart with a bayonet.  Before the light left Rob’s eyes, he looked right at me and held out his hand.  Clenched between his bloody fingers was his half empty pack of Lucky Strikes.  I nodded my understanding, lit one up, and leapt from the foxhole screeching the tenor II part to “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” and hurling grenades.  God, there was so much blood that night…   Anyhow, that’s when I started smoking.  So now, 10 years later, I’m happy to write today’s entry… More than anything, my crying jag let me know EXACTLY how addicted to cigarettes I was.  After a little research, I learned that recent non-smokers go through all 7 stages of grief (shock, denial, anger, guilt, pain and sorrow, release and resolution, and return to normalcy).  Stupid Camel Lights had completely changed my brain chemistry and not having them reduced me to a quivering pile of flan.  Right then and there I decided that I was going to quit cold turkey.  My lovely girlfriend, Jenn, quit at the same time and has continued using the patch to great effect.  I put a rubber band around my wrist and I snap it every time I had a craving.  After 30+ days without a single puff I have a sizable welt but I’m feeling alright otherwise.  Here are a handful of the terrible, terrible withdrawal symptoms that I've been enjoying for the last month:

Craving for tobacco:        Few days, up to months; in some cases lifelong

Dizziness:                         Few days

Insomnia:                          1 week

Headaches:                      1 to 2 weeks

Chest discomfort:            1 to 2 weeks

Constipation:                    1 to 2 weeks

Irritability:                           2 to 4 weeks

Fatigue:                             2 to 4 weeks

Cough or nasal drip:        Few weeks

Lack of concentration:     Few weeks

Hunger:                              Up to several weeks

Depression:                      Few weeks, up to months

Still better than smoking...

Ugh.  It has not been fun.  But the upside is that I think about smoking less and less and less and less and less.  Here’s the one piece of advice that I’ll give to the youngsters who are thinking about smoking for the first time: DON’T.  Does smoking make you look cool?  Yes.  Of course it does!  But it is also really bad for you and it is REALLY hard to stop once you get old enough to wise up.  Never smoke cigarettes…get a kickass tattoo instead!  Make sure to let your parents know that I said it was okay for you to get a tattoo.  They’ll be cool with it!  Alright, Inter-Nutter-Butters.  I am, as always, your intrepid (nicotine-free) guide and I’ll see you back here soon!!!

Gone...all gone...

Chris Quits Smoking!

Let’s kick things off by getting acquainted with the enemy.  People started smoking tobacco in shamanistic rituals around 5000 BC.  Another notable invention that year was fucking farming.  The invention of FUCKING FARMING!  This means that as soon as people started growing tobacco (or growing anything, for that matter) they also started burning it and inhaling the smoke.  It’s believed that ancient people threw some tobacco leaves on a fire and immediately realized that they wanted to keep throwing tobacco leaves on a fire (usually after spirited love-making or a delicious meal).  The smoking of tobacco was already commonplace by the time Christopher Columbus arrived in the Americas.  Here’s an actual quote from one of Columbus’s scouts:

“Men with half-burned wood in their hands and certain herbs to take their smokes, which are some dry herbs put in a certain leaf, also dry, like those the boys make on the day of the Passover of the Holy Ghost; and having lighted one part of it, by the other they suck, absorb, or receive that smoke inside with the breath, by which they become benumbed and almost drunk, and so it is said they do not feel fatigue. These, muskets as we will call them, they call tabacos. I knew Spaniards on this island of Española who were accustomed to take it, and being reprimanded for it, by telling them it was a vice, they replied they were unable to cease using it. I do not know what relish or benefit they found in it."

Look at this asshole!

Like all people from the distant past, Columbus’s scout was simply too stupid to understand the addictive properties of tobacco.  You can only be *so* smart and still poop in a hole every day!  Columbus brought the custom of tobacco smoking with him and in no time it had surpassed war-mongering and prostitute murdering as Europe’s vice of choice.  Tobacco smoking was widely practiced in France in 1845 when the term “cigarette” or “small cigar” was termed.  Smoking in America peaked in 1965 when about half of the population smoked every day.  Like Mad Men!  Nowadays, the percentage is closer to 25.  Even so, a quarter of the population isn’t shortening their lifespans for the fun of it.  Cigarettes are CRAZY ADDICTIVE.  And guess what?  Cigarette smoking is not good for your health!!!  I know, it was news to me too!  Science tells me that every cigarette smoked decreases the human lifespan by about 11 minutes.  I did the math using my trusty desktop calculator and the lyrics from RENT and it looks like I’ve lost just about a year’s worth of my life. 

Yeah, that’s not so great.  Hopefully I lost a crappy year…like 5^th grade.  That’s how aging works, right?  But it’s not a surprise that smoking is detrimental to your health.  I’d like to give a firsthand account of what it’s like to quit smoking.  Well, allow me to, ever so gently, place my description into a nutshell for you.  Quitting smoking is awful.  Really, truly, tremendously awful.  I started this noble experiment about a month ago while using the Nicoderm CQ patch.  Things were going smoothly for a few days so I decided to go without the patch just to see what would happen.  Welllllll…bad things happened!  I watched the last few episodes of LOST season one with my girlfriend that day and I cried like a frilly, little milkmaid.  I rarely cry at funerals of friends and relatives but without nicotine I was crying about a make-believe hatch.  Sidebar: Walt!!! 

Why is this so sad?!?

Chris watches True Blood.

Hey there, fang bangers!  I must apologize for my prolonged absence.  I have been suffering under the demands of a busy schedule, the terrible effects of nicotine withdrawal, and run-of-the-mill summer laziness.  These long days of summer simply don’t lend themselves to blog writing!  I’ll try to motivate myself a little better and write at least one new post each week.  And - not to dangle a metaphorical (or literal) carrot in front of your face - but I have some cool new stuff in the works that will be unfurled in the weeks to come.  Stay tuned!  In the meantime, whether you love this show or are too cheap to pay for HBO let’s see what’s new on…

True Blood!

Now, THAT'S how you get pink eye!

Spoiler Alert:  If you haven’t seen the season 4 premiere of True Blood, I’m going to be discussing it in detail.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

Before we recap True Blood together, let me fill you in on my complicated relationship with this television program.  I have been watching True Blood since the very beginning.  “That’s not very complicated,” you say.  Shut up for a minute, dummy!  I have watched every season of this show and I DON’T EVEN LIKE IT THAT MUCH!!!  I’ve tried to come up with a reasonable explanation for this but I can only come up with two explanations…and both of them are boobies.  I like boobies!  I like vampires, I like serialized television, I like plot twists…but I REALLY like boobies.  That said, let’s see if boobies will be enough to keep me interested in tonight’s episode!

Boobies!!!

I saw a quick preview of this episode about a week ago and it looked unnervingly bad.   We join our gal Sookie in the Fairy Realm.  If you’re wondering what a Fairy Realm looks like, it looks like an Olive Garden with a lot of glowing fruit hanging from fake trees.  Sookie was brought to this mystical Olive Garden by her…wait for it…Fairy Godmother!  I am starting to lose faith in this entire endeavor.  Sookie notices her dead Gran-Pappy, Bill Lumbergh, chowing down on a glow apple.  Sookie catches up with Lumbergh and meets Mab, the Queen of the Fairies.  Sookie wisely decides that the light-up fruit is bad news and things go downhill in a hurry.  Within minutes, Sookie and Lumbergh are being chased through the desert by a bunch of sepia-toned orcs.  The pair are forced to jump into a chasm because the creepy orc-fairies keep throwing lighting balls at them.  Am I getting older or is this dumb?

Yeah...my talents are being wasted.

Boom!!!  Sookie and Lumbergh are back in Bon Temps and the world is no longer sepia-toned.  Lumbergh is not long for the world because he has been eating glowy apples for, like, twenty years and apparently that means he has to die now.  Alright!  Lumbergh bequeaths his pocket watch to Jason and turns into dust.  Thus far, Milton and Lumbergh have been killed off on this show.  Somebody in the writers’ room has a vendetta against Office Space alumni.  Sookie makes her way home and discovers that she’s been missing for more than a year!

Sookie heads home to discover that, while she was missing, her house was sold to a suspicious company.  There is NO WAY that this plot point will come up again!  As soon as the sun sets, her dueling vampire suitors: Bill (the bad actor) and Eric (the good actor) show up at her front door.  Eventually the law shows up, in the form of Andy Bellefleur, to find out where Sookie’s been for a year.  At Bill’s urging, Sookie admits that she was away on “vampire business.”  My eyes are starting to glaze over. 

Meanwhile, we meet Lafayette on route to a witch P.T.A. meeting with his boyfriend Jesus.  Lafayette has always been one of the more entertaining characters and he continues to make this train wreck palatable.  The writers believe that having a homosexual character named Jesus is shocking enough that they don’t have to create anything interesting about said character.  Whoops.  As it turns out, Lafayette is some kind of super witch because every single character on this show is contractually bound to be something.  All the witches join hands and bring a parakeet back to life.  And now we know what ADDITIONAL supernatural creatures are going to be featured this year!  Hint: IT’S WITCHES!!!

Like this, if Darren had a mowhawk.

As things chug along, we meet Terry Bellefleur (the blonde cook), Arlene (the redheaded waitress), and their baby Mikey (the baby named Mikey).  Mikey is a few months old and is already decapitating Barbie dolls.  Things are looking good!  We also check in on Jessica (the vampire) and Hoyt (the non-vampire).  Jessica and Hoyt treat us to a scene that is destined to usurp Rocky for the best use of raw eggs and domestic tension since 1976.  We also learn that Sam Merlotte DID NOT kill his brother but, rather, shot him square in the leg.  It turns out that Sam is dealing with this guilt by drinking wine, stripping nekkid, and turning into a horse with a couple other shape-shifty types.  I’d like to exaggerate some of these plotlines but I no longer believe that to be necessary for the sake of comedy.  Yikes.

Gross.

Jason, who in the missing year became a cop or something, is still visiting his young charges in the meth hamlet of Hotshot.  While giving out some chunks of raw meat, Jason gets beaned in the head with a shovel and thrown into a freezer.  Okay.  Also, we are shocked to discover that Sookie’s house is now owned by Eric (the good actor) who has now decided that he owns her too.  Alright…

Initial Thoughts:

Yeah.  That wasn't very good, right?  We did meet Tara for a minute.  She’s living in New Orleans and she’s a lesbian kick-boxer now.  I didn't think it would be possible to NOT be interested in some half-naked, lesbian kick-boxers.  Hoo boy, this is gonna be a long season!  I will try my best to keep up with this show but I’ll let you know how long I can make it.  Boobies are helping a little, but…really?  I’ll meet you back here soon, Internuts!


P.S. - Also, Bill is King of the Vampires or something now.  I legitimately forgot about that...