Kill, Marry, Bang: 'How to Get Away With Murder' Edition

I enjoy this show in ways that I couldn't do with Revenge, that particular style of soap having too many suds for my taste, like Victoria Grayson's biological son, a stripper being paid to lie to David, a lot of characters with no chemistry claiming to love each other, blah, blah. American Horror Story hasn't premiered its latest season yet, I didn't want the medical jargon and beeping machines of something like Grey's Anatomy, and as I already implied, Revenge lost my interest after a while. I came back to it just days ago to skip around episodes on Netflix...and put it aside to try the Ali Larter/Sean Bean show Legends. 

About This Dream I Had

First of all, I lived in a very big, spacious house. Tell me, where was I getting that money, Emily Thorn?
There I was, with a big ol' master bedroom and some kind of solo status 'cause Tom and I were no longer together. In the midst of this single life, I slept with some guy; he wasn't my type, either - short, sandy hair with a body and tan one tends to get from landscaping or surfing or something.

Gossiping

So I've just had another of those moments where I came face to face with my ego, and it's all because of the jaw-dropping news of Kermit and Miss Piggy's break-up. Seriously. I understand that we're all just people - interesting, flawed human beings [and pigs and frogs] - even if some of us are famous actors/musicians who are currently going through divorce.

Skipping Through Books

I skipped to the end of a book once. Are you upset with me?

About This Dream I Had

Today I woke up about five minutes before my alarm and lay there thinking, the whole time, about brown recluse spiders. 

Brief Commentary on Working For a Living

      So I set aside a few days to binge-watch Grace & Frankie;

"Gullet" - Writing Exercise

   After weeks of working at a dive bar, six months living in a dinky two-bedroom apartment with a chick who goes by Strawberry but is legally named Amanda, and days of alternating between vegetables and take-out, rum and top-shelf bourbon with my roommate’s blues band and a crappy wannabe-musician who works in insurance, I wake up on a Monday in April, feeling very sick with a line of dried drool winding from my mouth to my jaw.