You know when you’re deep in a dream, and everything seems to make sense? Like, you’re watching something on TV, and then you’re in the show, and then you’re dating one of the actors, and then you’re back watching that story unfold? How the logic bends and folds and falls in a way that just doesn’t make sense, and then you wake up, try to explain it, and can’t?
Honestly, I’m going to get back to the fun stuff soon, I am. It’s just that Riverdale has been off air for three weeks and maybe it’s the only thing giving my life meaning, you know? Well, time for one more introspective bungee-jump before it’s back tomorrow.
Wow, Lou, try writing about anything? Other? Than your mental health problems? I hear you cry, and I politely ignore you and write this article anyway. I’ve been watching Russian Doll over these last couple of weeks – which is ridiculous, really, because I could have gotten the whole thing done in an evening and had time to nip out for cat food afterwards. But honestly, rarely have I so uncomfortably identified with a character as I have with Alan Zaveri in Russian Doll, and I’m finally ready to take a prodding poke at this series as a whole and what it has to say about compulsion.
Green Book won the Best Picture Oscar I guess, here’s our review of this patronising mess
Alright. If you happen to follow any of my social media (Twitter, mostly), you’ll know that I’ve had a hell of a fucker of a week, and honestly I just want to dive head-first into this book and forget any of it happened while I talk about banging random members of the adult cast of this story. Oh look, here comes one now!
Trigger Warning for discussion of anorexia, bulimia, and general eating disorder behaviour.
a star is born, again, apparently, ugh
a love letter to my favourite director
