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Bilbo67
Heretic


Joined: Fri Oct 27th, 2006
Location: The Daisy Hill Cluster Lizard Farm
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 Posted: Sun Jun 17th, 2007 04:49 am

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My 2 Cents on Episode 2.11: Nook
(6/16/07)


Alrighty, to paraphrase Sam Cooke by way of Jimmy Buffett, it’s another Saturday night and I ain’t got nobody, so once again it’s review time. Ordinarily, this is the part where I would go off on a 1-3 paragraph rant about a bunch of anecdotal, self-referential twaddle that has absolutely nothing to do with Lexx before segueing into the brass tacks portions of my beloved $0.02. Well, we’ll get to all that (tradition is tradition), but before hitting the ground running, I would be remiss if I didn’t give a shout out to my new hero:

DRAGONFLYGURL…TAKE A BOW!!!!!

From this day forth…from now until that fateful hour when they jam my petrified carcass full of non-biodegradable preservatives and Tetris me into a ludicrously overpriced brass box, consider me in your debt. Send word to your friends: now they’ve got me in their corner. Send word to your enemies: now they’re on my shitlist as well. Need someone to go before a federal judge and vouch for your whereabouts in a court of law? PM me and I’m on the next flight out. Aw hell, let’s not even beat around the bush here: you need but command me and I will gleefully cast myself into the protein bank (although, in deference to my small but ever-loyal fan base, could you at least wait until I’ve cranked out a complete set of season 4 reviews before ordering me to off myself…tell ya what, in the interim I’ll send my obnoxiously boisterous neighbors in my stead…I might get these damn things hammered out a little quicker if I got a decent night’s sleep for a change). 

Now, I know what you’re all thinking…”Omigod, DFG must have gotten her hands on some highly scandalous pictures of Bilbo, and the good-fer-nuthin louse is making every pathetic attempt to sweet talk her into keeping them on the hush.” Sorry to disappoint you. While it’s true there are some celluloid reproductions of yours truly floating around out there that are likely to come back to haunt me at some point down the road, such is not the case here. No, the reason I have sworn unbreaking fealty to DFG is because of the following:

http://www.tv-links.co.uk/show.do/1/367

That’s right…every minute of every episode, hot and ripe for plucking onto your hard drive (did that sentence contain two double entendres or three…hard to tell; we’ll call it two-and-a-half), which DFG, in her infinite magnanimity, name-dropped in one of the threads. Thank you, thank you, oh dear God a thousand times thank you!!! No longer must I beg, borrow, and steal from those eternally unreliable jokers at YouTube. No longer will I have to lie awake at night, tormented at the thought of actually having to spend some of my own damn money. And more importantly, no longer will I have a viable excuse for why I’ve yet to whip up some full-blown season 4 reviews. My life—such as it is—begins today (my word, I’m pathetic…).

Shall we move on? I think we should move on. Let’s move on…

Nook. At long last, after traipsing through the Two Universes for nigh on seven years I can finally say I’ve seen season 2 in its entirety. Like Luvliner before it, this is an episode that, for reasons known only to that dough-head Bonnie Hammer and her colossally overpaid staff of flying monkeys, was yanked from syndication every time the show started a new cycle. Not sure why they did that, as it’s actually pretty tame compared to a number of other eps, but attempting to divine just how the brain caste over at Sci-Fi works is an exercise in futility worthy of mention alongside my rare forays onto the dance floor. That said, I’ve since come to find out that it did air on American TV at least once. It was actually one of the first—if not the very first—episodes of Lexx to air at all, because rather than start at the very beginning (which, ostensibly, is a very good place to start), they wanted to kick things off by airing sexually charged episodes that highlighted Xev as a means of justifying the fact that the show had been more or less marketed as soft-core porn. As such, they couldn’t needlessly hamper themselves with continuity and other such inconveniences. After all, these bozos had already convinced themselves that their primary audience’s train of thought went no further than: “Pretty lady…me watch” (seems the joke’s on them, as the vast majority of Lexxian’s I’ve shot the pixilated bull with have been members of the fairer sex with a bit of a necrophilia kick, if’n you know what I mean).

Onto the episode itself. This one, for those who mightn’t remember, is sandwiched in between Wake the Dead and Norb, making it the last full-blown standalone ep before the Mantrid story-arc kicks into high gear. Like Luvliner, the last ep I reviewed, it doesn’t really feel like the bulk of season 2…it’s got more of a subdued, season-1-verging-on-season-3 vibe not unlike Twilight, which I feel is due in part to the near total absence of 790 and the Lexx; coupled with a darker, more emotive story. Thematically it kind of reminds me of Woz, insomuch as it touches on a few pertinent, real-world issues and presents us with a villain who, though thoroughly deranged, manages to raise a salient point or two; coupled with the season 3 ep Gondola, which is notable for it’s low-key, character-centered storytelling and heavy de-emphasis on humor.

Right away, in a bit of a departure from the norm, we open not in the depths of space, but in what looks like a steampunk version of a Flemish hamlet populated entirely by drab, sod busting menfolk who stand a 456,345,345,002-1 chance of making it through the end credits intact. At first glance it certainly appears idyllic…everything is clean, green, and pristine; which, as we all know, is a big no-no in the Lexx universe(s). And so, right on cue, guess who drops by?

In yet another display of wonderfully stylized CGI, we are treated to one of Lexx’s all-too-rare low altitude flyovers as the big bug buzzes their little sylvan sausagefest, spooking the locals and no doubt prompting at least one of them to make some sort of backhanded comment about the locusts being particularly bad this year. Dumbfounded, as we would all be if something resembling a syphilitic dragonfly the size of Three Mile Island appeared out of nowhere while we were tending to our respective dirt farms, they haul ass for safety and huddle around Brother Randor, who, based solely on the fact that he’s old and he’s the first one given a name, is apparently in charge. Like great strategists throughout history, Randy rises to the occasion by gnawing absentmindedly on his fingernails while his underlings quiver like a litter of newborn Chihuahuas on a rollercoaster (but then again what the hell is he supposed to do…order the artillery regiment to throw some sticks at it?).

From there we kick it up to the Lexx, where the big bug provides us with some much-needed exposition by way of its trusty viewscreen. Turns out our heroes have happened across a planet that is almost entirely covered in water. In fact, by virtue of the fact that it only has a single, solitary landmass, it is actually covered by more water than the planet Water; a retroactive quirk that I do not believe anyone else has ever called attention to (lemme know if I’m wrong here, that I may swiftly issue a requisite mea culpa if need be). Fresh off almost being chopped to trail-mix-sized pieces by Kai, they’re justifiably looking for a place to unwind (sidebar: why is Kai awake? It’s not like they need him for anything, and Xev, more so than anyone else, should know that protoblood doesn’t grow on trees).
Ever the inquisitive optimist, Xev chimes in first. She wants to drop down and explore the island because:

a) it’s green
b) it’s pretty

Apparently she’s oblivious to the fact that the same can be said for all manner of poisonous things. Stan, while not quite the hardened cynic he would become in the later episodes, takes a little more pragmatic approach, arguing that they should skirt this locale because it’s completely primitive. Good idea, although you would think Stan would jump at the chance to take advantage of a bunch of pre-industrial mush-heads and lord his superiority over them, but the Stunner is surprisingly altruistic at times, and given all he’s been through in the past, no big fan of unnecessary excursions; quite unlike Little Miss Let’s-Wander-Down-This-Dark-And-Foreboding-Corridor-To-See-What-We-Can-See. Hell, he practically says as much, launching into a borderline meta-fictional rant about how every time they happen across a new place they just happen to fall into some kind of danger (yeah, the show was pretty episodic at this point, but at least they admitted it) and punctuating his tirade by proclaiming that they are an advanced species and thus, should learn from past experiences as a means of improving their decision making skills…all this from a guy who allowed himself get suckered into traps at two different brothels in the span of maybe one month and would later go on to vaporize Pluto because, according to him, eight planets is enough (personally, I’m of the belief that he did so out of an irrational fear of odd numbers, which might account for why he never made security guard class 3).

Of course Xev knows exactly what to do whenever Stan puts his foot down. After silencing an understandably petulant 790 with her “off” command (am I to assume that was somehow disabled when he was smashed to bits at the beginning of season 3, or did everyone just get a helluva lot dumber during season 4? …or both?), she manages to get Stan to reverse himself in roughly the amount of time it would take Xenia to loose her bodyguards on me were I to approach her on the street looking as I do by informing Stan that her theretofore untended love slave libido has reached critical mass, and that if she doesn’t hook up with someone on the island she’ll let him take a whack at her.

Now if I were Stan (and, let’s face facts, in about fifteen years I probably will be), this is the point where I would nonchalantly take Kai aside and instruct him to scout ahead and kill anything even remotely resembling a human male on sight, but given the nature of his luck, I’m sure he realized that Xev jinxed him the instant she opened her mouth. Karma, kismet, whatever you want to call it, some unseen force has seen fit to play hell with Stan’s luck yet again (it’s like winning the lottery two hours before you’re crushed by a runaway cement truck).

So, following that little bit of ribald extortion, our heroes hop a moth and drop in for a visit, where they find Brother Randor and the Gunny Sack Six still lost in thought. Alas, Stan seems to have resigned himself to his fate, as he doesn’t even think of shouting “Hey Xev, what’s that!?!” while Kai quietly dispatches the village. No, instead, in a disastrous attempt at nonchalant small talk, he asks Randy and the boys if there are any girls nearby (short answer: kind of but not really...more like no, actually) and if they have any beaches.
**Sigh** I’m a Stan fan. Always have been, always will be, but since nobody else piped up and said it, it looks like the burden falls on my stout shoulders yet again:

IT’S AN ISLAND, DIPSHIT! YOU WANT TO FIND A BEACH? PICK A DIRECTION—ANY DIRECTION—AND START WALKING UNTIL YOU FIND WATER!!!

Well, it’s at this point that Randor—who, for whatever reason, kind of reminded me of an emaciated Ian McKellen—finally decides to act like the guy in charge and welcomes the new arrivals to Nook (which he pronounces “nuke,” thereby conjuring up images of that bomb-worshipping cult in the Planet of the Apes movies), a monastic agrarian commune—and bitter arch rival of Cranny, or so I should think—and proves himself a cordial enough chap by warmly welcoming the “three strange men from the sky” (though she appears to brush it right off, I’d like to think that Randy’s unintended little jab stuck in Xev’s craw and provided something of an impetus for her to ditch the psychedelic Davy Jones hairdo in exchange for something decidedly more feminine).

Thereafter our heroes are invited to a feast of roughage and geometrically concentric bread where we get our first glimpse at the rest of the Nookers, and while it would be easy to dismiss them as a bunch of rubes, they seem affable enough (despite the fact that the concepts of climate control and antiperspirant seem utterly lost on them, and when the fashion train rolled out of the station they were too busy giving each other full-body hot oil massages to notice…more on that later), and strangely unable to avert their eyes from the new red haired “man”…with the lone exception of one guy who appears to be a little more interested in Stan (can’t remember his name, but he had an impish grin, so I’m calling him Brother Smiley from here on out).

BTW, am I the only one who thinks the phrase “woman is a different kind of man” sounds like a really crappy song title?


While Xev is limbering up for the inevitable and Stan seems convinced that Brother Smiley is simply admiring his hat, Kai, being the only responsible one of the lot, takes it upon himself to pump Brother Randor (for information, damn it!). Leave it to Mr. Apathy to ponder the “hows?” and “whys?” (In a related note, “I’m an assassin,” mayn’t be the best way to ingratiate oneself into a new social setting…Kai should gussy it up a bit…tell people he did hands-on field work for His Divine Shadow’s Holistic Outreach Program…that basically means the same thing).

Because at this point he is still a pretty congenial fellow, Randy happily reveals that in addition to being the place where fun goes to die, Nook also doubles as a sort of Alexandrian-esque library where knowledge, wisdom, philosophy, pastry recipes, and off-color limericks from throughout the universe are chronicled and archived. Sounds like a noble endeavor at first, and if Randy had stopped talking right there all might have remained copasetic. Unfortunately, he let at little too much slip out, thereby perking up Kai’s never-fail bullshit detector (the dead man has a way of bringing out the bastard in people). Turns out there’s something of a knowledge-embargo going on. But for a chosen few (i.e. the old, withered geezers whom the rest of Nook’s young, strapping brood could easily rise up and clobber if they actually took five minutes to sit down and ponder how badly they’re getting jerked around), nobody can read, and despite the millions of pages of moldering old parchment stacked to the heavens, knowledge is forbidden, because according to Randy, “all other knowledge leads to unhappiness” (if his theory proves out, these people will be suicidal by the time Xev’s done with them).

Not sure if it was the beans’ outright intention, but I got kind of a 1984 vibe from this segment (along with the later revelation about the breeding program, which also brought to mind Brave New World, among others). It’s an interesting allegorical take on how, if left unchecked, organizations—be they religious, political, social…or anything—can mold, sway, and even outright suppress thought, not because they are all-knowing or all-powerful, but rather, because the regular folks allow it to happen. That said, I would be remiss if I simply dismissed Randor’s entire argument, because on one level he is dead on: knowledge can be as much a burden as it is a blessing, and it can damn sure upset the balance; leading to strife, misery, unhappiness, etc (just ask Dr. Faustus). No surprise then that a good many people in the real world would rather bury their heads in the sand than embrace the unknown and risk taking the bad with the good.  Ponder that for a minute…

Alright, enough with the heady stuff, let’s move on to…

Stan getting a massage from another guy…well, I’ve seen it, I can’t unsee it, and I don’t want to sound like a complete hypocrite, so I might as well embrace it. Looks like Brother Smiley’s hospitality knows no bounds. Stan, at this point, is either so ridiculously obtuse that I’m surprised he hasn’t forgotten to breathe from time to time, or has consciously resigned himself to the fact that Xev is going to score, and as such, is carrying quite a bit of nagging tension in his lower back (among other places). Smiley, as if it weren’t obvious from the start, has designs of his own in mind—summed up in his allusions to the Night of Brotherly Love (which I have a sinking suspicion will not take the form of a best-of-seven arm-wrestling tournament/sundown-to-sunup chug-a-thon)—and while he’s an all-around good guy, Smiley is an absolutely banal conversationalist who utterly lacks Prince’s animal magnetism and bedside manner…all told, as liaisons with strange dudes go, Stan could do much, much better. (Why do I keep doing this?!? I really, truly want to stop!)

So our heroes’ first night on Nook comes to a close with Stan juggling some new, conflicting feelings, Xev attempting to hit on Randor (not necessarily a bad thing…remember, later eps reveal that she has a tendency to devour her mates, so why not let her do everyone a favor?), and Kai curtly explaining to Xev that he does not sleep and he does not dream (I assume if she’d gotten frustrated and told him to go fuck himself we’d have learned about the Blackie Lawless codpiece quite a bit earlier), all set to the backdrop of some rather soothing music. So far, so good.

Morning rolls around, and because he does not eat, bathe, or go for a brisk a.m. jog, Kai decides to indulge in a guided tour of Brother Randor’s laboratory/moonshine still, where the guy I only recently lauded as a paragon of all things commonsensical happily forks over a jigger of his protoblood to a complete stranger. Kai…you’re killing me, man! And because the reanimated walking corpse-man with ten stainless steel nipples who has been kept alive for two thousand years by the milky white discharge of a planet-sized insect cannot possibly abide by anything “unnatural,” he makes a semi-committal reference to the Planet of the Milk-Fed Boys (sounds like a wisely vetoed Neverland Valley Ranch attraction to me) and resumes questioning Randy about Nook’s origins and curious lack of women, whereupon we discover that new brothers are culled from a cell bank and grown—presumably fully matured—in a sort of incubator (shades of the ghola tanks in the Dune novels). Yeah, so this plot device takes a few eensy little scientific liberties…but when stacked up against the climax, it actually seems fairly straightforward, even somewhat plausible (for you’ve no business watching this show if you’re not expertly versed in kicking disbelief to the curb).

Stan, meanwhile, is at breakfast, where the skittish but resolute Brother Smiley has resumed his courtly pursuit of the gallant captain. We learn that he is something of an anomaly, as he can both read and write, whereupon he finds a kindred spirit in Stan, who reveals that he used to read a lot when he was with the heretics (I imagine most of what he read probably began with some variation of: “I never thought it would happen to me, but…”). They talk shop a bit more, then Smiley pops off with one of the deepest, most profoundly moving philosophical proclamations from the whole of human history: “The unexamined life is not worth knowing.” Marvelous…awe inspiring…life affirming…virtually impossible to encapsulate…it’s almost enough to keep one from wondering why Smiley is quoting Socrates, despite living in a parallel universe some two thousand years before Socrates was born. Rather than overanalyze this to the point of a myocardial meltdown, I’ll simply assume that it’s a universal truth (which it is), and that earthlings are embarrassingly slow learners (which we are…something I actually alluded to in my fanfic). Anyhoo, it finally dawns on Stan that Smiley is hitting on him, which ceases to matter in the least the instant we cut to…

XEV GETTING A MASSAGE!!!

In yet another example of fan service done right, Xev has decided to forego the morning meal in favor of something a little more satisfying (and perhaps a little more filling…but we’ll get to that). I’ve nothing to extrapolate here, and will limit myself to but one observation: considering she could quite literally get a rubdown from anyone on the planet, what the hell possessed Xev to settle for a guy who looks like a hairless yak (and how the hell did he get so damn fat on a diet of unleavened bread and sticks)? Xenia, apparently a graduate of the Herbal Essence School of Method Acting, sells this sequence with aplomb; so much so that she scares off all of the onlookers, forcing her to simply single out a mate out of sheer frustration. I can’t remember his name either, so from here on out he will be known as Brother Sonofabitch.

Jump ahead a bit and we’re one night and counting until the summer solstice/night of brotherly love, which apparently acts as a sort of release valve for the agonizingly straight-laced Nookers and serves to take their minds off whatever questions may be gnawing away at them (another Brave New World nod, methinks). Unfortunately, Brother Smiley, lacking Prince’s stoic flair for anticipation (help me stop…someone, for God’s sake, save me from myself!), can’t wait any longer, and implores Stan to release his valve right then and there, prompting an understandably startled Stunner to haphazardly extol the virtues of feminine beauty (let’s see, I believe the adjectives he employed were “round,” “soft,” and “places you can easily fit into”…sheesh, the same could be said about my crappy futon…some poet, our man Stan). Smiley will hear none of it, and candidly opens up to Stan about his feelings for him and his desire to be with him. All told this was a well filmed, well acted sequence that I found to be genuinely touching (in a “now that I’ve seen this I’d better go out and beat someone up to prove I’m all man” sort of way), and while it’s clear that Stan has no interest whatsoever in playing Greek leapfrog with him, he doesn’t want to hurt the little guy’s feelings. Sadly, Smiley won’t be swayed, and promptly proclaims that if Stan wants him, he’s his, and if not, his life is over (an ultimatum known as a Castro Street Mexican Standoff in certain circles), before stomping off, leaving Stan to do a little midnight soul-searching (and with Xev being a lost cause at this point, I’m sure the concept of  “any port in a storm” crossed his mind).


So where the hell is Kai during all of this? Sleeping…you know, one of the billion or so things the dead aren’t supposed to do. Seems Randy slipped him some sort of recombinated mickey while he was fiddling with his protoblood…as he’s the most advanced thing on the show, let’s hope he learned from this experience. But, for the nonce he’s dead weight (*rimshot*), leaving it all too easy for some unseen nogoodnik to make off with his brace. I for one didn’t know you could just walk up and take it from him like that…you would think HDS’ people would have found a way to safeguard against someone doing that, but as a man far wiser than myself once said, the dead are messed up.

Stan, having come to a decision, goes looking for Brother Smiley, perhaps seeking to console him, or perhaps to counter his ultimatum with “You don’t talk at all and I get to call you Xev.” Whatever his intentions, we’ll never know, because he happens across Smiley’s freshly murdered body in plain view of a bunch of the locals. Come sunup news of the tragedy has spread, and after quickly dismissing the most asinine crime scene scenario I’ve ever heard anyone posit:

“Maybe he was killed by a bird with a sharp beak.” (…you’ve got to be shitting me)

Randor points the finger of blame at our heroes and attempts to cancel the night of fun, frivolity, and furiously ferocious friction, prompting the rest of the learned gray-hairs to shout him down. Of course Stan’s seen quite enough and is content to book, but Xev absolutely demands they stay one more day, in full spite of the fact that Randy and the rest of the elder brothers are plotting against them.

And what a plot it is…we cut back to Randor’s lab where he appears hunched over a…machine…of some sort. Whatever it is, it’s green, it’s got what looks like a punch bowl affixed to its top…either Randy’s up to no good or that hardened old coot has just whipped up a few gallons of watermelon jungle juice for the party.


And what a party it is! Ok, not really. In fact, it’s pretty anticlimactic. Smiley had earlier described it as a night entirely bereft of inhibition, where all the Nookers dressed up in costumes as a means of keeping their discretions anonymous, so after choking back a heaping wad of bile I more or less imagined it as Eyes Wide Shut in a same-sex mosh pit. What we got instead looked like an ill-lit luau for a bunch of poorly crafted college mascots. The costumes—if burlap bunny ears can so be called—didn’t disguise anyone, unless I’m to assume that every last one of the Nookers suffered from advanced Lois Lane syndrome.

Xev—done up to look like either a cat or some kind of marmoset, I’m really not sure—manages to kick-start the process of natural selection by sauntering all over the dance floor (Xenia, I’d pry both my eyes out and hand them to you should you but ask, but you’re just not a very good dancer), while Randor—who is supposed to be dressed like a bee but comes off looking like a plumber with two boogie boards strapped to his back—spikes the punch with some of his mystery concoction.

By and by everyone gets blitzed, and after forty-eight minutes of buildup Xev drags Brother Sonofabitch and a few tagalongs into the nearest tiki hut for an off-camera Cluster Lizard throw-down (Stan wins points for trying to sneak in with her by donning a fox costume that makes him look like a partially decomposed Spy vs. Spy character, but Xev sniffs him out right away…if only he knew how to throw his voice).

And while Xev is busy draining the life out of that vile, unworthy bastard, Kai happens upon Brother Randor, who is draining something else entirely. He’s dumped a heaping batch of his green mystery drink into some kind of wickedly advanced machine, thereby triggering a reaction that will destroy the planet at sunup. He explains to Kai that his forebears were a technologically advanced people who came to Nook centuries before in hopes of creating a perfect society; a world without women, free of the conflict and angst associated with the pursuit of sexual conquest (not that I’m taking sides with this maniac, but you know ladies, he has a point…most of the dumb shit we guys do is in some way, shape, or form an attempt to win you over…not saying it’s your fault, I’m saying we’re stupid, Neanderthalic, single-minded clods). Now that their society has been irrevocably tainted, everyone must die.  Thanks a million Xev.

Kai, not yet aware that he can survive a planetary detonation intact, decides to haul ass. He quickly runs into Xev, who has brought Brother Sonofabitch to the brink of death (lightweight), and zestfully announces that she finally did it in a manner eerily reminiscent of my five year old cousin when he tied his shoe for the first time. She’s still rarin’ to go, and while she conceivably could have grabbed a few guys and packed a to-go bag, I’m sure once the adrenaline died down and Stan had had time to properly stew he would have had Lyekka eat them.

From there it’s pretty much like clockwork. Our heroes bug out, the sun ambles over the horizon, everyone who drank Brother Randor’s atomic appletini is somehow vaporized, and in a further affront to the laws of science that looks wicked cool nonetheless, the planet is atomized shortly thereafter (tradition is tradition) and the show ends…rather abruptly. 

All in all a good episode.  Can’t understand for the life of me why it was pulled, as just about everything that happens in this ep is ratcheted up to the nth degree in later episodes, but who knows?  I rather enjoyed the three-dimensional, nuanced portrayal of Brother Smiley (who could very easily have been turned into a caricature), and felt the beans really stepped it up in the writing department…I just wish I could expunge the image of a half-naked, oiled up Brian Downey from my mind’s eye.

Well, at long last I can say I’ve put the kibosh on season 2.  Nothing left to do now but set my sights on a certain whacked-out little blue planet.  Sorry for the ridiculously long review again.  I guess I must have figured that since I’ve been getting my ass kicked ad nausea by the various literary agencies I’ve been soliciting that I might as well bring my A-game for the people I know will actually read the drivel I crank out.  

Next stop, season 4!


Cheery bye.

 

 




Last edited on Sun Jun 17th, 2007 05:24 am by Bilbo67



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 Posted: Sun Jun 17th, 2007 02:40 pm

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I love your drivel, Bilbo!  I hope you get published, because I sure as hell want to read what you write.  :3_3_6:

Your reviews truly capture the essence of what is going on and you do it in a very intelligent and humorous manner.  Another awesome Bilbo review! :yourock:



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 Posted: Mon Jun 18th, 2007 01:40 am

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Wiping away laughter induced tears, at hilarious but accurate metaphors.... thank you, great "drivel", as always..

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 Posted: Mon Jun 18th, 2007 11:50 am

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Excellent fun, as always!



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 Posted: Mon Jun 18th, 2007 11:55 pm

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Xev finally got some Nookie



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 Posted: Tue Jun 19th, 2007 07:13 pm

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Oh Lordy, that post should have a warning disclaimer to not drink anything while reading...*mops up keyboard*

:c030a:



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 Posted: Fri Jun 22nd, 2007 09:19 pm

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Angel wrote:  :yourock:

I must have just seen that emoticon out of the corner of my eye, because when I first read your response I could have sworn that sign said "YOU PRICK!"



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 Posted: Fri Jun 22nd, 2007 11:44 pm

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I guess they come together... now that's in the category of most awful pun of the year! :P



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 Posted: Sat Jun 23rd, 2007 12:57 pm

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I love your a-game bilbo. you simply must leave your brain to science.



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Angel
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Mana: 
 Posted: Sat Jun 23rd, 2007 02:31 pm

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Ketana wrote: I love your a-game bilbo. you simply must leave your brain to science.
Or we can put it in the box under your bed, next to your HDS brain.  :c030a:



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Shenandora
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Mana: 
 Posted: Sat Jun 30th, 2007 07:20 am

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Oh, how I have longed for reading another of your wonderful reviews! Had to fight a bad flu, but now I'm back and just enjoyed this one very very much.

Thanks Bilbo!

p.s. Can't wait to read your S4 reviews... ;-)


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