Damn Deadwood
So, it is Sunday again. That means that the HBO cursed series “Deadwood” will be on. It also means that despite the fact that the dialogue sends myself, Supervixen and Superfox into a weekly tizzy, we keep watching. We repeatedly choose to be assaulted with 55+ minutes of the cursing avalanche. I think they just got all the “Sopranos” writers together and said, “Okay, now you are writing a western.” I take great solace in knowing there are at least two other people watching this show. Three should be enough to form a support group.
That’s right you f**king c**ksucker. Pour me another shot of whiskey, you c**t.
I decided good ol’ Al looks like what it would be if the Pringles man had a really hard life and wound up on the side of the road instead of on the side of a cute can of chips. Poor Pringle’s man – no wonder he uses such language.
Fucking A.
Add another two to the support group. Paul and I watch it. We love it when Jane curses. “I believe I’ll fuckin’ wait!” She owes that little girl about $584 in pennies.
Not only did we have to endure the cursing onslaught, but this weeks episode wasn’t even 50 minutes long. We got pimped out of over 10 minutes of ludeness.
Well, if you were at all interested in fu*king history, you’d fu*king know that Deadwood has a remarkably colorful fu*king past. And, you’d discover that the language used in this mini-fu*king-series is pretty God-dam*ed accurate. The real surprise would unfold if Al, Jane, Wild Bill or any of those fu*king characters were alive today and could spend even a minute with the soft, self-important, sheltered, and ignorant individuals that most of us have become… We watch life go by. We dip our toes into it when we feel like it. At least, they fu*king lived it to the hilt. Every mother fu*king day.