My Enthusiasm for Desperate Housewives S07 E14 is So Great that I Forgot to Write a Title

"He's your son. (DRAMATIC PAUSE) He's my son. He needs our help."

So this is what fuels the narrative these days on Desperate Housewives? A drug-addicted twenty-something with two daddies?

Since starting this blog, this is the first show I’ve watched that I have absolutely zero desire to write about. It’s boring and predictable and I watched it with some disinterest while I ate breakfast this morning. I watched Desperate Housewives haphazardly in high school, and then I stopped watching it for about three seasons. I started watching it again at the start of last season, but I’ve come to the realization that I just don’t care about any of these self-absorbed, tedious characters. If I make the unfortunate decision to watch this show again next week, I’ll force myself to write something vaguely critical about it. But it’s Monday morning, the sun is shining despite the intermittent snowfall, and I just can’t get excited about this hackneyed primetime soap.

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