I may be a super-loser culture-monger, but there are many phenomena I can’t be bothered to pay attention to, until it’s about five years too late.
Case in point: I started watching Lost two weeks ago. Dumb dumb dumb. I bought season one from the counterfeit DVD operation running in an Indian supermarket. I had zero interest in Lost when it debuted, mainly because it sounded fucking stupid. I filed it away with the other action-packed sci-fi type shows that I actively ignore. Unfortunately, after five-ish years of hearing about the great and all powerful LOST, and getting fucking sick of it, I started to watch.
After a frenzied trip to my favourite DVD store two nights ago, I’m now halfway through season two and…I hate myself. I don't even enjoy it but I’m so embarrassingly addicted, I have chosen Lost over sex three times. The show is scary and gory, and I truly despise most of the characters. Like, shut up Matthew Fox. You are playing Charlie from Party of Five stuck on an island, let’s see some range goddamnit!
It takes a lot out of me to sit and watch three episodes in succession—I leave emotionally drained and tired, but I do it anyway. I totally hate myself.
I should have started watching Lost like a normal person, in one hour a week doses five years ago. Stupid! This is totally like the time I refused to read Twilight because I was fucking smart, then, when I was 35, swallowed the books in an afternoon and was 13 years too late to stalk Robert Pattinson.
I see my future and that is definitely happening.
UPDATE *** Apparently my life is doubly ruined asI'm now forced to watch an episode of The Wire every night. I’ve only watched one episode, but already hate it more than Lost so I’m just screwed.