Goddess Decree #742

As ruler of all known universes and Resident Omniscient Being, I am hereby revoking the right of CSI writers to pun. Ever. Ever, ever again. Quota: Long ago met. Fucking puns are the glue holding that television empire together.

And if redhead, David Caruso, ever graces my screen again with that turn-slightly-to-the-right-and-extend-left-foot-back-for-enigmatic-look sidestep he does right BEFORE he delivers his dire, serious, yet punny quip, I'm gonna pluck my eyeball out with a soup spoon.

I'm just saying. Clearly I'm not big on CSI.

Okay, so Gayboy showed up to smoke a joint with me, ahem, and read this, and commented that I forgot to add my tirade that I lapsed into one recent night. Yammering on about how Caruso always mysteriously lowers his sunglasses so that he can glower condescendingly at the unwitting next victim of his brilliant dark little I'm-judging-you statements. Fucking wanker.