There are many reasons why I like this show, Sarah Mason's booty dancing on the bar being only one of them. But oh, what a reason. Fanboys, you with me? Of course you are I've read the message boards. Fangirls, how about you? No? OK then, moving on.
Week 2, ladies and gentlemen! I say Sam and the gang deserve a hearty round of applause for making it this far mad props to Fox for keeping a non-megahit on the air it's pretty refreshing. More importantly, it allowed us to answer the age-old question: If I were made entirely of smoked-turkey cold cuts, what would I look like? The answer: disgusting, yet attractive to wild felines. Sully's turning out to be the Gob of the piece, which is definitely not a complaint someone's gotta deliver the antics around here, not to mention the SNARDs (Yeah, I can't remember what it stood for either). Kudos to Eric Christian Olsen for raising the bar on the stoner-older-brother stereotype but not too high. Hot Lizzy got some quality lines last night ("Play will be gotten") and performed the aforementioned bar jig, and Piper didn't hurt the eyes any, so no complaints there, either. But if the show doesn't break away from its Sam-stumbles-into-greatness-at-the-last-minute formula, I'm gonna blow my whistle. The mean whistle, not the good kind. So until next week, keep your fingers crossed for no whammies and/or cancellation. You know what? I could really go for a SNARD right now. Nope, still doesn't sound right.