Spoil Me Rotten


Sing this one to the tune of Jay Z’s “Tom Ford.” I don’t watch Breaking Bad, I do grad work. 

Tonight is a landmark night in television, I’m positive. The ‘best show in television history’ is coming to an end, and gasps, thoughts, and disappointments will be shared tomorrow, I’m fairly certain. People who aren’t all the way caught up on “Breaking Bad” will object to someone in their office or someone in their twitter feed or someone in the bus row directly behind them, who reveals how it all ends, I would bet. But I do not care. I mean, I care, because everyone else cares, but I do not care about it independently. I don’t have cable, have grown to enjoy not having having actually. And so, I welcome spoilers. It’s way easier than carrying around titanium ear muffs whenever someone wants to talk about Breaking Bad, or any other show I don’t watch. Bring it all on. I want to know who dies without really knowing who died. It’s liberating in a sense. I know I won’t appreciate the mastery of it all, the camera shots, the nuances, the twists. Maybe one day I will. But for tonight, off with someone’s head and forward more.



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