Fast forward to forward to forward

12/13/10

So first…it’s OVER! Another wishy-washy forgettable plot in the crapper. Is it me, or did a few years ago Rubin actually resolve plotlines before moving on to the next thing? Sure, these so-called resolutions were largely ridiculous and unrealistic, but at least we had a vague sense of closure. Now Rubin just keeps writing random, meandering strips until his calendar reminds him he should have started the next sport three weeks prior…then he just drops everything and gives up. It’s like a giant f*ck you to the reader. The only positive to how he ended things this time is that we can imagine Jam-Jar duct-taped to that locker bank for all eternity, or at least ’til he gnaws his own arms off.

On to whatever this new crap is. I puzzled for some time wondering what the hell a “forward-to-forward phone call” was, figuring it was some bizarre colloquial phrase regarding call forwarding…but even Google came up empty. Then it dawned on me: It was Neal’s incredibly unclear way of telling us the basketball position that two characters play. Note to Neal: WE DON’T GIVE A RAT’S ASS WHAT POSITION ANY OF THE CHARACTERS PLAY. All we really need to know if whether there are going to be any bizarrely-named stereotypical gay men featured this winter.

12/14/10

OK, well at least that’s one mystery solved. Now let’s drop this and move on to something else. We need more f*ck yous to the readers.