Tonight’s cuppa: Irish breakfast tea (full caf, because I need to focus)
I used to love "My Name Is Earl." Never missed it. And I hardly watch any comedies. But the plot meandered off Earl’s attempts to pay karma back by working his way through a list of his misdeeds, and I began to drift. I lost the love for the "Earl." There was an "Earl"-shaped hole in my TV heart.
So it is with some trepidation that I try to fill that emptiness and allow "Earl" back into my life. I hear he’s out of jail, out of the coma, out of a brief bad marriage and back on the list, so I’m willing to give us another chance by liveblogging the "The Magic Hour," the first episode of the two-episode season premiere, scheduled to air Thursday, Sept. 25, on NBC.
Don’t hurt me, Earl.
WARNING: If you’re super-mega-clever or just a very good guesser, this could
possibly be considered spoiler-ish. So, if you fancy yourself either of
the above, run, do not walk, in the opposite direction.
Earl and Randy, a kid playing a xylophone and Joy running a scam on Make-a-Wish. Sounds familiar, especially to Earl.
Churchill Downs won’t be calling, Earl.
Sad, sad story. Earl feels bad. Can’t help the dead, but…
Hi, Seth Green! You look good for a dead guy.
Ah, somebody wants to come to the Hollywood. Big squid, kid.
Hey, we can make a movie!
Dandy arm action, Seth.
OK, that’s a fresh approach to horsepower.
Hey, you got a trailer, what more do you need to make a movie? Joy, of course.
Randy cleans up really … nah, not really.
Seth rockin’ the bowtie…Hey, "The West Wing" wants its set back!
Randy gets authoritative…Seth cleans up better than Randy.
Earl learns the true pain of being the one holding the clipboard.
Whooo! My favorite Tommy Lee Jones soliloquy from "The Fugitive"!
In case you don’t know it:
"All right, listen up, people. Our fugitive has been on the run for 90
minutes. Average foot speed over uneven ground barring injuries is 4
miles per hour. That gives us a radius of six miles. What I want from
each and every one of you is a hard-target search of every gas station,
residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in
that area. Checkpoints go up at 15 miles. Your fugitive’s name is
Dr. Richard Kimble. Go get him."
Excuse me while I make a hard-target search of my living room…
Fire! Fire! Fire! (No, not in my living room, on the TV! Silly people.)
What president wouldn’t want a ’98 Civic with a spoiler?
We’ll fix it in post! (The five lying-est words in showbiz.)
Boom! OK, "CSI: Miami" had a way better boom than that.
Brad Pitt or Eric Roberts — not bad choices.
The lovely golden light is fading as a chair takes flight.
Suck donkey? That’s a visual I could have lived without forever.
Joy gives my favorite answer ever to "Who are you wearing?"
Uh-oh. Seth has a secret sell-by date.
Mom comes through.
Hah, Jimmy Smits! Hah.
Movies, they’re all about making dreams come true — and he did fix it in post.
You’re sushi, Big Boy!
I’d yell about names not being made plural with an apostrophe and an "s," but I have a warm spot in my heart, so for this once, I’ll let it go.
Welcome back, Earl.