Port Charles Chuckles

Turn the Page

 

So, last Tuesday, I had a moment (it was shortly after Siobhan found Aidan's paternity test results and decided not to say anything to Lucky about it) I found myself pounding my head against the desk repeatedly and imagining another six to nine months of everyone in town knowing this "secret" except for Lucky himself (much like Jake's paternity before it) and I contemplated ending it all - - my fifteen-year viewing history, my blog, my drinking heavily in the afternoon - - all of it.

 

And just about the time I decide to take a mental-health vacation from General Hospital (I am currently nine days sober), the universe threw me what is called a game-changer.

 

Bob Guza is well and truly OUT as head writer.

 

Dude.

 

DUDE.

 

DUDE!!

 

I should take a vacation from caring more often, this is beyond awesome.

 

With All My Children and One Life to Live on their way out and General Hospital likely to follow shortly, I understand why many fans are speculating that this was Frons way of protecting his buddy Bob Guza from being the captain who sank the Titanic (dude, he already is), but at this point I can't really get outraged about it because the bottom line is that viewers will be treated to a vast improvement (it has to be, right?) for however long we have left and that is something worth celebrating . . . . and over-using emoticons, I'm positively giddy.

 

 

 

                    

 

 

Dagnabit, I just realized that I now have nine entire episode to catch-up on.  Oh well, that's why God created weekends . . . and Arbor Mist.

Sometimes, Being Oblivious is Actually a Blessing

 

Growing up, I was never one of those people who was on the cutting edge of, well, anything really.  I always found it easier to steer clear of the rumor-mill than to pay attention to every piece of grist it churned out.  That is pretty much still the case, I have enough trouble keeping up with my own little corner of the universe without having to worry about who else is wearing what or dating whom. 

 

Inform me that Zac & Vanessa or Scarlett & Ryan broke-up and I will say . . . who?  I'm kidding, of course.  I know who they are, but I can't be bothered to keep current on their respective romantic situation(s), there just aren't enough hours in the day for that.  Besides, if Bruce and Demi taught me anything, it's not to get too attached, nothing lasts forever.

 

Basically, I figure that if the issue is important enough, I will eventually get the memo and there's virtually no benefit to having been the first to know the information.  There are times when this head-in-the-sand approach to the rest of the world causes problems (like when I manage to miss a significant celebrity death), but mostly it's a good thing. 

 

For example, late last night I was sent a frantic e-mail from a generally reliable online source squealing with delight (if one can squeal via e-mail) - - -  BOB GUZA IS OUT!!!!!!!!! 

 

As it happened, I was asleep by 10pm last night (I consider myself a social butterfly) and consequently, did not receive that e-mail until 8am this morning, at which time I only had a few minutes to get really and truly giddily excited before discovering that alas, the rumors were not true. 

 

If I had been on the cutting-edge of insider information, I might have wasted some serious time (not to mention risking all kinds of pulled muscles) doing my happy dance     All I can say is, thank goodness for my ignornace, this time it prevented me from indulging in a lovely, but ultimately false hope.

 

Keep this in mind for the future - - whatever you do, don't tell me when Justin and Selena break-up, I don't think my heart could take the pain.

In the Grand Holiday Tradition

 

It's that time of year once again ladies and gentlemen, that blessed season where I hopelessly (and tunelessly) mangle some poor innocent holiday song in the name of criticizing the awful writing on General Hospital. 

 

Two years ago, I celebrated Christmas in May with Blame the Scabs set to the tune of Jingle Bells.  For Halloween 2008, I paid homage to DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air with Nightmare on my Soap.  And in October of 2009, I simply couldn't resist doing The Mobster Bash.

 

This year, I considered several possibilities including Withered Wonderland and All I Want for Christmas is Someone to Fire Bob, before deciding upon my own simplistic version of Let it Snow instead (since we are talking General Hospital here, I imagine savvy viewers will easily pick an applicable word that rhymes with "snow"). 

 

In the end, I'm a bit disappointed with how it turned out, but not enough-so to waste the hours I spent coming up with words that rhyme with snow (doe, foe, grow, whoa! etc.) by not posting my little ditty.  I am really cheesed I couldn't shoe-horn "Carly is a ho" in there somewhere, but there's always next year; it's not like that fact of life will be changing anytime soon.

 

 

Let It Blow, Let It Blow, Let It Blow!

 

Oh, GH these days is frightful,

But the cast is still delightful,

And since Guza ain't about to go,

Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow!

 

It doesn't show signs of stopping,

Cause the mob's around for propping;

Hospital lights are turned way down low,

Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow!

 

Well, we finally got Brenda back,

But I hate being reminded of the past,

Cause Guza's really got a knack,

For sending characters downhill fast.

 

The Qs are mostly dying,

And long-time fans, we're still a-crying,

But as long as Bob's writing the show,

Let it blow, let it blow, let it blow!

 

 

 

 

Happy Holidays Everyone!