Saturday, May 3

1,901

I was going to blog anyway, but as I clicked the "new post" today, I realized I had written an even 1,900 posts to date. Perhaps I should hang it up -- 1,900 is a good number -- but hell, I've already fucked it up now, so let's move on, shall we?

My point is this: I finally finished watching the O.C. last night. Sure, I loved the first season, so witty, so self-referential, so full of hot people. The second season was okay, but I gave up halfway through. Due to the glory of DVD, however, I caught up and powered through not only the season two rough spots but all of season three's suckitude, including but not limited to Johnny drama and Volchok stupidity. Bygones. They got me in the fourth season, and especially in the final episode. I won't compare it to the soul-wrenching finale of Six Feet Under, but it was similar in some ways. Both of the final songs are necessary for my music collection, and both made me cry.

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