Getting Progressively More Shallow and Foulmouthed, Jonny Mines the Dregs of Network Television
Editor's Note: If you wish for your opinion of this blogger to remain highly regarded and unsullied, you might wish to skip this post. If however, you already know Jonny's a big, fat, drooling stupid-head with a a dirty mouth, you might as well proceed.
ABC announced today that it will be moving its wildly popular Grey's Anatomy to Thursdays at 9 o'clock this fall. Big flippin' deal, Jonny, you say. Well, probably not, because you don't actually read this blog. But if you did, it would be within the realm of statistical probability that you might say, big flippin' deal. (And here's the math to back it up.)
Also, here's the big flippin' deal. NBC just announced on Monday that it's new Aaron Sorkin/Thomas Schlamme produced show, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, would be airing Thursdays at 9 as well. For those who aren't TV geeks, Sorkin and Schlamme are the bad brains behind both Sports Night and the West Wing, two of my all-time favorite bad brains shows. I'm literally salivating at the bit to hear some of that ol' Sorkin banter on network television once again (he's been MIA from the West Wing for three years now, ever since he got caught at the Burbank airport with coke in his bag).
So I'm just a little bit irked that Studio 60 will not only be facing the original CSI, but also gross, gross newcomer Grey's Anatomy. If Studio 60 turns out to be another Sports Night, hailed by critics yet panned by viewers, it won't last through the year. Nothing against CSI and Grey's Anatomy, but they suck. The only way I could handle watching another medical drama at this point is if Joss Whedon or J.J. Abrams were writing the thing, which seems pretty bloody unlikely. I had my lifetime hospital hijinx quota in those first four seasons of ER, thank you very much. And don't get me started about the CSI franchise, which really only has Emily Proctor going for it in the first place.
So I'll be the first to say it. Grey's Anatomy, Matthew Perry will fucking crush you. Bradley Whitford will knock you to the motherfucking ground. And the D.L. Hughley/Amanda Peet/Nathan Corddry collective will kick in the teeth while you're motherfuck-fucking down.
Anatomy of a Thursday that, bitch.