Photo: Courtesy of Bill Gray/HBO; Photo: Courtesy of Ali Goldstein/NBC; Photo: Courtesy of Craig Sjodin/ABC
Hump: Before I get to my very first foray into what appears to be America’s favorite non-singing-based reality show, I must address my new favorite character on television: Sue Wilson from Veep. Played with no-nonsense aplomb by Sufe Bradshaw, who is gorgeous enough to be a model (Wait, let me IMDB her...is she a model? Okay, she’s not a model, but she does volunteer for Humanity for the Homeless. Swoon.), Sue — the vice president’s executive assistant — doesn’t take any shit from anyone, including the V.P. She gets more accomplished in five minutes than I do in oh, five months. She can cut down anyone with a simple look, and even the Vice President lets Sue put her in her place.
Here’s how Sue describes her job in the Veep’s office: “The Vice President is the second most important person in the world. I arrange for you to see her. So, in my eyes, that makes me the third most important person in the world. So, you better be nice to me. Or you won't get to see her. And if you do get to see her, you better be nice to her. Or you won't get to see her again. The Vice President may forget, but I hold a grudge. And my grudges are nasty."
I can only dream of making speeches like that. I love you, Sue Wilson. Plus, you’re a stone-cold fox.
Marry: Tonight’s season finale of 30 Rock sealed the deal: I want to grow old with Liz Lemon/Tina Fey. Criss/James Marsden can also be there, I guess. I mean, she’s clearly the funny one with the great job, and he’s the stud building a nursery for their future child (again...where do I fit into this picture?). I guess I can keep our DVR programmed with all the right shows and make tough calls when there are three shows we want to record because — as all TV fanatics know — most DVRs only allow you to record two shows at a time. I could also help find more gems in Sky Mall, to add to Liz’s growing remote-stashing collection. I’d be willing to do that for her if it meant I could be married to the head writer of a comedy show and her gorgeous, dim-witted himbo. Yes...I think we may really have something here.
Kill: I’m sorry, I tried, I really did. I wanted to watch The Bachelorette unironically with hope in my heart that the quasi-widowed, definitely jilted (thanks, Us Weekly and Wikipedia!) Emily Maynard would finally find love for herself and a father for her daughter. But c’mon, those introductions? Where Emily did a slow turn, and the eligible bachelors tried everything from breakdancing (did not realize the producers had a Jersey Shore quota to meet) to presenting Emily with an ostrich egg in hopes of doing something that would differentiate them from the 20-plus other men she was meeting in less than half an hour. To me, it was worse than a blind date and sorority rush combined. And that guy with the helicopter? Stop showing off, Mr. Big Stuff. Who do you think you are? (He’s the one we're killing tonight.)
I’m not going to give up yet, though. Not just because I don’t want to feel ridiculously left out during my office’s Tuesday-morning gossip sesh about the previous night’s episode. I have got to see what it is about these shows that piques America’s curiosity and keeps everyone tuning in week after week. Does anyone here know? If so, can you please enlighten me? Also, how does Emily avoid getting the herp when making out with all these dudes? Seriously, help a girl out here.