Monica and Rachel make out! Should be sex-ay, no?
I have never been more disappointed in my life! Not that I’m some awful voyeur who gets their kicks from fake lezzbianism on television, but with her show tanking, you’d think Courteney Cox could have put some oomph into it. Jennifer Aniston is still HAWT though.
Jeez, but I’m shallow.
Anyway, if that’s your season finale and you can’t capitalise on the best tabloid-y storyline possible, then your show probably deserves to be cancelled. Trust me, one and all, I’ve watched a few episodes out of blind loyalty to Friends and it’s unspeakably bad. For a while I thought it might be compulsive viewing bad, but it really isn’t.
For all that Courteney Cox-Arquette is a legitimate Hollywood whatever, the scripts have the clunky feel of being written by people in Ohio or something, people who haven’t even been on a Hollywood studio tour. The drug-taking storylines have the depth and realism of those play-acting exercises we used to do in PSD (Personal and Social Development) about not giving into peer pressure. Plus, there are a number of unattractive people, and in the televisual equivalent of Heat magazine, I want some eye candy, dammit.
Suffice to say I won’t be tuning in for further episodes narrated by the shizophrenic photographer with the dead girlfriend living in his apartment, nor will I ever again have to suffer Courteney’s character stumble through an exchange in which she’s just a bitchy girl with daddy issues. Or another completely passionate kiss. Still, it’s better than watching unenthusiastic sex scenes with the little David Arquette lookalike who’s in it.