Welcome To My Bed

Guilty pleasure, if you could call it that.

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Most women my age probably wouldn't agree, but I am kind of in love with Entourage. And not because I have any kind of crush on one of the guys (although if I had to pick, it would be a tough call between E and Ari...I know it sounds crazy, but I stand by that). If it was something so simple, it would probably be more about my love for Lloyd. However, while most of my peers have spent too much time obsessing over Carrie's shoe closet, I prefer settling in and rooting for the guys. Even though most of the female characters, barring those in positions of power and even then there's a fine line, are simple sex objects. Even though there's really no one I can relate to now that Samaire Armstrong has been off the show for ages (and every other female character has massive cans and is acting sexy all the time). Even though it is just the kind of show I should put a feminist foot down about. Not that I'm a militant feminist, but some things are a little over the top.

Okay, I admit, everything points to me ignoring this show like I ignore most of television, especially the TV that occurs on channels I don't even get. But I can proudly and happily say that I watched the entire latest season of Entourage today, and it was the best season yet. And I don't believe in guilty pleasures, I just believe in enjoying the things I enjoy, regardless of how much they don't fit with my personality. Britney Spears. Vampire novels (vehemently excluding Twilight, which I refuse to dignify with italics). Funyuns. Smirnoff Ice. And Entourage. Hopefully the next season will be at least equally as delightful. Although then I'd probably have to follow through on the drinking game James and I devised based on how many times per episode I gush about loving Lloyd. Which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. I'd just end up slightly hammered, at best.