Sunday Bloody Sunday

Last night was the season premiere of both Rome and 24. Holy Crap.

Can you imagine what Jack Bauer would be like in bed?

Jack: Get on your back, woman! Now!

Me: Okay! Jesus. It's not like the world's gonna end if I get a sip of water first.

Jack: I need condoms! Where are the condoms! If you don't find them in ten minutes it will be too late! Tell me where they are now!

Me: They're in the drawer. You know, where they always are.

Jack: Oh. Well okay then. Let's do this.

And the TV cameos! Dr. Bashir! And Jesse who died in the pilot of Buffy! And Principal Wood! And that dude who was on all those episodes of La Femme Nikita! And Roger Cross is still alive and he was in like every sci-fi show ever, but especially First Wave! Why isn't John Billingsley on 24 yet?

Then you get Rome, which was incredible. I think that was the fastest hour of my life. Okay, maybe not as fast as that time I had to disarm a bomb before it exploded and released an anthrax-like substance into the ventilation system of a shopping mall. That was a pretty fast hour.

But this is Marc Antony in bed:

"I'm not getting up from this bed until I've fucked someone."

So he did, and then he got up.

There was so much violence in both of these shows and it was awesome. How can you beat two dudes covered in blood, one carrying a severed head around like a shopping bag through town?

And yet I still managed to fall asleep between hours of 24 and had to finish watching it this morning. How? I don't know. Apparently I'm so desensitized to violence it now makes me sleepy. Or maybe I was just tired from chopping my protege's hand off to save him from the bomb that was about to blow up a school building after evacuating all the people inside. That was pretty exhausting.