Follow The Yellow Brick Road

 

I would like very much to discuss, as opposed to writing a real article about, Justin Marks, Counterpart, and JK Simmons, and if my carbon monoxide scarred lungs aren’t going to collapse, I shall do that. I do not care what side of the political spectrum Marks and I are on, and I even, almost, remain unconcerned about his sexual orientation. What I do care about, after all these years, is not realizing what Simmons could do, after all these years as Olivet’s laconic other bookend, and The Closer. Even Oz could not quite prepare me for Howard Silk. When my usage of Prime was fresher three years ago, I streamed enough of Oz to be inundated, and so I smirk, having beat HBO reboxing everything. Given how poor I am, I am sorer than you want to know over licensing rights, because I was just getting to know Tony Soprano, and then the deck gets reshuffled, but, if I ever need to take you with me to the prison drama, I made myself exceedingly familiar with in. By contemporary standards, the series is blaise, and I can’t say what ground HBO actually broke with it because as a prison series Oz is a very long and spooling Dick Wolf harvester, quite unintentionally. When it was original, I was naïve, and now I am just very sick and have to cease texting the cousin by marriage who is also very sick. All my socialist building manager achieved, after twelve years of warfare and threatening me, repeatedly, was to make my care more dangerous for everyone involved in it, and I would like to inform you, and Alphabet’s administrators, that my expressed malevolence toward this woman is poor form, but I am the one sitting here with fecal pus in my crotch every night, so how is it, that she triggered the dominoes to force me into this situation, that I am living healthier? Silicon Valley companies have downgraded me into a nice cubbyhole for bad mannered circus animals. It doesn’t change the fact that blacks systematically tortured me, and my family wouldn’t unite against it, help me, and nor does anyone else. It is a really lousy way to be drawing on last curtain calls.