Bones: I Don't Even Know

This show makes me so agitated. Not only did I call the murderer last night the second we panned up on her turquoise fingernails, but there were also plot holes the size of David Boreanez's (or Booth's, although it doesn't seem like there's much of a difference) over-inflated ego. Angela is annoying, Cam is obnoxious, Sweets's put-upon baby act is getting old, and the only reason I keep watching is that I have this hope that one day one of the writers will come in and say, "You know seasons one and two? They were pretty good, weren't they? Maybe we should try to make these new episodes more like those old ones." The rest of the writer's room will nod in agreement and Hart Hanson will finally come to his senses and fix everything that has gone wrong since the end of season two. Until then, I reserve the right to roll my eyes and yell mean things at my TV.

1 comments:

Anonymous said...

The stories used to be better - even creepy and scary sometimes. You cared about the characters because (at least in part) of the interesting work they were doing, and how they worked together. It's just pretty dull now. Too bad...

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