I can't really drink caffeine after noon anymore, but I made a wise exception to hang out with someone I hadn't seen in a long, long time.
I should head off to bed, but sleep is just not happening just yet. So instead, dear reader, you get a treatise on my favorite ridiculous television pleasure: Criminal Minds
. I love this show. It is so cheesy, and yet it can make me queasy in a bad horror-movie way every few episodes. The best part (besides the nerdy-hot Dr. Spencer Reid) is that they cast the most random people to play the "unsubs:" James "Dawson/Cereal Box Head" Van Der Beek, Jamie "Not Funny" Kennedy, and this week, Frankie "Malcolm's No Longer in the Middle" Muniz. I'm just imagining all of them saying, "BUT I WANT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY" to their agents and the rep comes back with "Here, play a serial killer on this show that your parents most certainly watch since it's on CBS: Television for Old People."
It has all these random conceits: the flirtation between Morgan and computer nerd genius Garcia, the incessant tackling of suspects, and the curmudgeonly local law enforcement who resent the FBI taking over the investigation. And now, Fat Tony
is the main profiler. Brilliant!
It's not high quality television by any stretch, but it's not the worst thing to watch on a Wednesday. My dear husband points out that the scariest thing of all, more frightening than any of the horrific murders, is that its lead-in is Kid Nation
Labels: mundane existence, popular culture, television