Touched By A Sex Columnist
Is it just me, or is Sex In The City going disturbingly warm and fuzzy in their final episodes? On Sunday nightís show, there were puppies having puppies and sleigh rides and Hallmark-style snowy winter cutaways -- I half expected James Taylor to pop up next to crack dealers crooning ìYouíve Got A Friend.î Luckily, there was some respite -- when a big, fat, coke-snorting 80s party girl said something like, ìThis city is so boring I could just die,î and promptly fell off her Manolos and out a skyscraper window to her death -- or the entire show would have been entirely unwatchable.
If they make me watch Carrie snuggle up to that onion-slurping lizard one more time, I am going to hurl chunks. I'm also really sick of that squeek-toy that Miranda married. I cringe every time he opens his mouth -- I mean, nostrils -- to speak.
Lena and the City at February 10, 2004 10:08 AM
I think they're totally copping out to conventional drivel at the last post (wins competition for the most mixed metaphorical sentence of the day.)
Alice Bachini at February 10, 2004 12:44 PM
Yeah-- but you've got the right idea, so we'll just work with the mixed metaphors.
Amy Alkon at February 10, 2004 3:07 PM
Not even the coke whore swan dive could save that episode - or this season.
The only way it could have been saved is if it would have taken all four of the lead actresses with her.
Jeff at February 11, 2004 2:38 PM
"Sex in the City" is becoming "Sex in the Suburbs." I feel absolutely betrayed by Carrie -- snuggling up to a lizard with nose hairs! At the same time, I am determined to carry on the grand tradition of SLUTDOM represented by Samantha. I will not be able to watch tonight's dreary paean to post-modern domesticity, due to tomorrow's 4:30 AM sex date. Tah tah!
Lena at February 15, 2004 9:15 PM