Stuff on W

Last night, we ate an unbalanced meal of baguette with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and I made some chicken salad wraps to bring for lunch today. Eric had gone into the kitchen to clean up the dishes, and I started flipping through the channels. I saw a movie on W that caught my eye.

My Stepson, My Lover.

It was an edge-of-your-seat thriller about a wife whose husband is too busy with work to fulfill her sexual needs, so of course she has panting, breathy, oddly silent sex with his son. Then the father finds out, and goes after the son, but since the father is puny with a thin mustache, and the son is a muscular athletic-type, the father obviously gets thrown onto some rocks and killed.

The dialogue was fantastic.

Wife: "Rick?"
Husband: "Can you explain this fax to me?? You think I don't know what you've been doing? You think you can make a fool out of me? You think I don't know where you've been? What you've been doing?! With MY SON!! MY SON!!!" (shake shake)
Wife: (cowers, whimpers)
Husband: "I'm gonna go and TAKE CARE of him. And when I get back, I'm gonna TAKE CARE of you!!"
Wife: (cowers, whimpers)

I'm not sure who's in charge of programming for the Women's Network, but I think he should probably be fired for this.

In other news, now that Laura and Linas' wedding is over and they're basking in the Costa Rican sun, we seem to have stopped working out. We were supposed to go Monday, but we ate too much cheese, and decided to go watch the hockey game instead. Then we were supposed to go yesterday, but in a dazzling display of mutual support, we talked ourselves right out of it, and spent the evening eating the aforementioned baguette and oil. And watching My Stepson, My Lover.