Day 99: The X-Files, Season 3 (1995)

As I have been diligently working my way through my Netflix queue week after week, I have come to the startling realization that I do not have significantly fewer titles in my list (I wanted to use the word “queue” here, but already used it in the sentence. Overusing a word is one of my weird writing pet peeves). In a rare introspective moment, I tried to understand why, over seven months, I have barely even made a dent in my shows (still wanted to use “queue”–damn you, you seductively perfect word). While the constant stream of releases to DVD and instant streaming is to blame for about 70% of my problem, I may have stumbled upon a personal quirk that accounts for an estimated 20% of my titles. I will be honest here, the remaining 10% is just crap (also, I feel very parenthetical today. (deal with it)). Crap, I am so tangential today—what am I, a geometry equation? (Eat it, Euclid).

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Day 59: The X-Files: Season 2 (1994)

There is something not quite right about me. Now, I’m not talking about the fact that I am older than six years old and I still wear shirts with kitties on them. Nor am I referring to the habit I have of making up songs to sing to the pooch (Although I must admit, the one about the bone-bone is pretty catchy). Or the fact that, on occasion, a handful of Cheetos sounds like the biznomb. Or the fact that I just wrote biznomb in my post today. Hmm….yeah, all of those habits are not quite right, but I was actually referring to my obsession with television shows. I have a compulsive need to finish entire seasons (series, even) as fast as possible. True, I am the type of a person who reads the last page of a mystery, then reads the rest of the book; so I am sure the desire to know what happens propels my compulsive TV habits. But I also just love stories—of all kinds– and I enjoy following interesting characters on their adventures. And isn’t television just the perfect medium for this?

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Day 46: The X-Files, season 1 (1993)

Get out your blazers with the giant shoulderpads. Dust off your Doc Martens. Pop a Kenny G cassette into your boombox and play “Forever in Love” fifteen million times. Heck, even set your VCR to record your favorite TV show (if you can figure out how to set it). Why? Because we are taking a trip to the early 90s.


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