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TV Bombing in LA: Leprechaun 4.
By LA Juice
from West LA,CA

3/18/2011
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This is a story about \"My Man\" and how he tortures me.

I, of course, torture him by calling him \"my man\" and writing about him at my website. I leave it to you to decide whose more evil. But first, I give you:

\"Lance Thicke\": TV Bomber.

First, a word of explanation. If you aren’t “lucky” enough to yet be identified in my blogs and writing, hop on over to the Soap Opera Name Generator website (“SONG”) and find out what I’d be calling you if you ever make me giggle.

Alas, the SONG has decreed that my man, shall henceforth, heretofore and NOTwithstanding be known in my writing as “Lance Thicke”.

In addition to a saucy soap opera moniker, Lance has an incredibly deviant and wicked sense of humor, as evidenced by one of his favorite games: TV Bombing.

It brings him immense delight to find at least 1 occasion a week where, ostensibly, he decides to sit down with me for some television viewing. Most often he invites lures me to the couch, flipping through the channels until I settle in next to him. Then he will go about choosing something that subtly tests the limits of our love.

He’s quite brilliant in choosing a television show that just barely fits into a category or subject matter I know he likes but which is not over the line of things I will find unacceptable.

“Things I find unacceptable” usually amount to scary movies, any sport where Michael Vick or Kobe Bryant are playing, NASCAR, and Telemundo.

What? I don’t speak Spanish. Embarrassing and ignorant, but honest.

Lance then patiently waits for the precise moment I am hooked on said boundary testing program, knowing full well that I am only tolerating it because he’s chosen it.

Truly this takes some patience and manipulation, because I normally can’t just sit and watch television. Oh to be sure I have to have the TV on at all hours, but I also have to be doing something else. Pay bills, write a blog, laundry, organize a tool box…

But Lance is good. He sells it like a Boss. Deadpanned, he watches the show intently. If he sees my interest waning, he will engage in conversation about the show to draw me back in.

If I leave the room, he will repeatedly implore me to come back, because “ you have to see this”.
Then when I have succumbed, and settled back onto the couch (usually evidenced by me grabbing a blanket or a cat) and he is sure he has me hooked, he -with a slight of hand that would make Criss Angel envious- will quietly set the remote next to me and casually walk to the kitchen to hide behind the pretense of finding a snack.

“Can I get you anything hon?” Yes- he’s that duplicative. At which point he waits until he’s sure I won’t notice, to stealthily slither away.

The next thing I know, a half hour has gone by and I am wrapped up in Leprechaun 4. On St. Patty\'s Day.

Lance is nowhere to be found. He’s gone off to his office to work, or to read something intellectual in the back bedroom, maybe he’s making a lanyard, I don’t know. But he’s gone and left me with Chucky’s magically evil cousin, Lucky.

Leprechaun 4! I can’t even fathom that there was a Leprechaun 2 much less 4 and there I am watching to the bitter end. Heck, there isn’t even an Aniston in this one.

2 hours of my life that I will never get back. Never. Get. Back.

And its not just Leprechaun 4 either. He continually tries to set me up with a Vampire Diaries bomb. On more than one occasion I have found myself alone watching Sanford and Son, Ice Spiders and Behemoth. Why do you think I am so unnaturally obsessed with SyFy original movies?

I have even found myself alone watching Bloodsport, dubbed into Korean. Bloodsport in Korean. (In case you are wondering, I don\'t speak Korean either).

And Lance had left the house.

Diabolical, no?



Cheers and Happy TV viewing, by LA Juice. I

f you liked this, there is more at lajuice.com


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