It's making me want to write stories set in those decrepit places. Oh, look, I have a new series set in London . . .

NO. I won't, and you can't make me. ::hugs TiVo, rocks back and forth crooning tunelessly::

JZ, I SO mispoke. If you haven't seen them already, you should definitely NOT watch these ads. But if you had seen them, you would know the fear.

OK, remember the crazy true stories of the ER show I love so much? Tonight we have: crazy clam chowder couple, crazy bride in a car accident freaking out about stitches on her face, AND crazy bar fight guy with a knife sticking out of his back! This show slays me.

I think it's the bad acting of the re-enactors WITH the crazy stories that really makes it.

24:

"...we don't have time for your personality disorder." Ha! Also? I'll be needing a cap of the look Jack gave Chloe after the "I'm here for you if you need a friend," comment .

It needs a crazy charismatic ER surgeon. I know one, but I think he may still be in mexico apprenticing as a witch doctor. (I went to school with his daughter, babysat for his many girlfriends and his son was my brother's best friend.) He is a fascinating fellow, and totally charming but really really whacko. He used to take the boys up in his plane and let them fly it. He was the best ER surgeon in NM several years running, and then he went to law school. Then Mexico.

So I'm sitting here, mulling a house, fearing impending layoff somewhat (no income! must find job!) and what do I see? Silhouetted against the blinds of a neighbor across the way, a couple clearly having sex. Dude, if you have plastic blinds, do not leave a light on near the floor. It throws everything into relief. Or shadow. Whichever.

Screw possible layoff, need house. More space between windows.

JenP, you are so right on both counts. Also, I'm hoping that Weeny, whiny faux-President strokes out before to long.

Screw possible layoff, need house. More space between windows.

Har. At least you can look away, unlike when it's apartment next door and your bedrooms share a wall. Actually, I didn't think of it til just now, but that's a nice thing about my current apartment -- the bedroom is on the outside corner.

Even though I'm looking at rowhouses, the walls are thicker.

I've got some hilarious disturbing (to little nonvoyeur me) stories from this place. Including those going at it out on the lawn. I at first was going to call 911 because I thought a struggle was going on. So I ran for the phone. Shortly thereafter, I realized it was definitely consentual. So goofy. It was like when I was little and saw two dogs and thought some evil person had tied their tails together. My poor dad had to explain to a very upset me what was really going on...

I'm with you, quester.

Also,

It was like when I was little and saw two dogs and thought some evil person had tied their tails together.

Heh. The trauma of youth.

Even though I'm looking at rowhouses, the walls are thicker.

Not necessarily thick enough. One year in NOLA, a friend and I rented one half of a double shotgun (NOLAese for "duplex," so called because in the classic style, you could fire a shotgun through the front door, and the shot would go out the back door without hitting anything -- but I digress). The other half was taken by a young couple. And let's just say that roommate and I always knew when our neighbors were getting amorous....