I missed this past week’s O.C. It was difficult but I forfeited my Thursday night ritual to have dinner with a professor from a certain university who agreed to write me a letter of recommendation to attend that university. Sure, watching the O.C. would have been a lot more fun but I like to think I had a Sandy Cohen on my shoulder telling me to stop thinking about Marissa Cooper. I needed to start thinking about college. I needed to think about my future! Christ,Sandy, I’m doing my best here. Get off my fucking back!
Summer, “Erghhhhh, I’m such an idiot.”
Yes, Summer, we’ve covered that many times. But your redeeming quality is your goodheartedness which got the best of you – along with one perky social chair. I was an idiot right with her as I thought Taylor was taking a turn for the better. I thought they were setting her up to be Summer’s new best friend at school and was just as surprised to discover it was all an elaborate plot. What I wasn’t surprised by was the suck face with the Douchebag of Discipline. I saw that coming two weeks ago. Of course, it never occurred to Summer what was going on even after she spotted Taylor kissing DD in his office. He had to come into the picture for her to get it. Oooooooh. Now all Summer needs is some photographic evidence. This is emerging as my new favorite plotline.
And we’ve got some new characters too – my favorite of which is surfer Johnny. Watch out, Ryan, you’ve got competition. This guy seems really sensitive too but smiles more than once an episode and shows no signs of anger management issues. Things look solid between Ryan and Coop now but give it a couple weeks. Public school kids are like dogs, whatever that means. If Marissa did ever want to get with that she needn’t fear competition from his horse-mouthed girlfriend. Whoa, Nelly! Button up that overbite. You’re scaring the nice children who pay to ride you. Damn, girl, I went to public school too and I remember the kids could still afford braces.
Is it just me or do Ryan and Marissa seem to have a lot of friction that could easily be lubed with some quality communication? Ah, the missed signals of youth. She forgot to mention they just showed up unannounced to take her to the dance. Ryan is too emotionally inarticulate to admit he’s threatened by, well, everything. The O.C. knows this, ergo: Seth, the resident self commentator. What’s there to discuss? Call her up. Apologize. Talk about it. It’s not rocket science. Well done, nerdy-one-kanobi.
We have new details about the Borg’s mission and I for one am appalled. What, what what… she goes into rehab on purpose to harvest vulnerable rich alchies? Dude, seriously, what the fuck! If she were a lesbian, like I originally thunk, Sarah McGlaughlin would sing You’re Building a Mystery while Ki Ki and B picnicked at Lillith Fair. Instead she’s straddling some dude on a gross hotel bed. Ew! She is just too many levels of wrong for me to process. Ho bag needs to give her act a nap because it is tired. Set phasers to bitchslap.
On a related note, when Sandy told Kirsten “this family doesn’t need your money” it was supposed to be reassuring but it struck me as sort of mean. Just clarifying your utility around her, botox face.
And finally, okay, O.C., you win. I’ve put up a good fight but I’m throwing in the towel. Finally, I feel bad for Julie Poopernickel. It took some doing. I didn’t feel bad when Cal did a half-gainer or Jimmy got smacked around. I had a lot of fun last year with her porno past. But, seeing her scamper around, looking for crumbs while being too embarrassed to ask for help got to me. I couldn’t stand to see her in that hotel room, falling apart, weeping, clutching her haute couture. I have no idea what Pooper’s gonna do. But by God, she’s got two hands, two tits, and three good holes. The chips are down, baby, suck it up. She needs to work that magic and do what she does best. After all, she’s a survivor – of the AIDS epidemic.
I was kind of sorry Ryan and Marissa’s song didn’t end up being, Little Ditty About Jack and Diane. But that song about being young forever was good enough as was the montage of sweetness it accompanied. As always, I pine for more. Marissa seems to be doing ok in public school. If that weird girl threatens her in the hall again she’s got My Little Pony to trot up beside her and defend her honor. If Marissa gives up on Ryan he can always be home schooled, nudge nudge. The Douchebag of Discipline is down for the count and the Borg is disassembling. And, though it looks bad, I have faith Pooper is going to come out swinging. I’m pulling for you, Poopsie.
Alas, I’ve been hearing troubling rumors about a breech in my supply of braincandy. Supposedly my O.C. will be impeded by this thing called “base ball,” whatever that is. Don’t think you can get away from me, O.C. I’m a fucking quagmire. I’ll be back on my feet in no time. And I’ll be wearing very expensive shoes when I do.
Go yanks!
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