Pretend it's like three years ago as I ask you this: Have you seen this show called Lost? Dear God. I've actually intentionally been avoiding it, because I knew this would happen. I knew I would get way too hooked for my own good, and the good of those around me.
Like my dear friend Taylor—whose wife banned all Halloween candy from their house after he made himself sick—I have what you might call "an addictive personality."
This happened with the legendary Law & Order SVU binge of '04, and some say I've never been the same since. I watched all of Lost season 1 (seven discs!) in about three days. I have binged, my friends, and I regret nothing.
This is the kind of show where it's 3 a.m., you're groggy and about to turn the TV off, but then a polar bear runs out of the tropical jungle. No mere moral could resist watching the next episode. A polar bear! In the jungle! Someone 'splain me that? Between the bear that will haunt my dreams forever, there's also a hatch that likely goes to hell itself. And this guy Ethan who's so creepy that I'll likely punch on sight the next Ethan I meet.
I will also punch the next polar bear I see, so watch your little back, Knut.
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