|OH YEAH, THEY NEED A BABY!!|
I’ve been watching the Alan and Monica story and I’ve
withheld comment for a while just to see how it would unfold.
I’m a pretty open-minded person and I have had children of my own at
various ages (me, not jus them). I
had my first three when I was young and had lots of energy and I had my last
three when I was considerably older and had lots of patience.
Mind you, I was not as old as Monica.
She’s more around my mother’s age.
Anyway, I have compiled my top ten reasons why Alan and Monica should NOT
have a baby:
They both having thriving professions that in no way allow time to
provide care for a newborn in the style their fantasies are suggesting. They’re thinking about baby powder and baby food
commercials, not colic at 2am with a 6am surgery.
Their idea of nurturing a child is a nanny instead of boarding schools
and a weekly baseball passing back and forth between them.
I will guarantee that if they do have a baby, they will fast fall
headfirst into reality and suffer the anguish of fantasies dying.
Leticia already has a job and there are no other
nannies in Port Charles.
If Alan can’t run, he can’t chase a toddler on a
mission. I was just now watching
the scene (Monday, August 21, 2000) where he and Monica were ripping each
other’s clothes off and, frankly, the guy is as big as a house.
A two-year-old will destroy him.
There’s a drunk in the house. Even if he doesn’t live there, he frequents there. ‘Nuff said.
In my opinion, Alan needs to be a bit further into his
recovery before he takes on additional passengers.
I don’t think he should even have a pet.
That stairway…it’s a baby-killer.
They’re doing it for all the wrong reasons.
This isn’t about wanting a baby and all that a baby entails.
It’s about two people clawing wildly to hold onto a time in their life
that is slipping away like a little greased pig.
If their reproductive years were equated to a night at a bar, then it’s
the 2am call and they are frantically looking around the room trying to make eye
contact with anyone who’s willing. I
think it’s just dead wrong that they are using the life of this little baby as
a guinea pig to prove that they aren’t the same rotten people they were when
AJ and Jason were growing up. All
the while, they are bickering a and accusing and screaming and ranting about
who’s sleeping with whom and who was right and who was wrong and how can one
upstage the other. Oh yeah…THEY
need to be responsible for bringing up a child.
They couldn’t be trusted to bring up the trash.
Their evil, nutty, nasty children. Yes, I said plural, ‘children.’
The most obvious is AJ, of course, but that’s an easy shot.
He’s needy and whiney and vindictive and shiftless and refuses to be
accountable for anything. A
little less offensive is Emily, who doesn’t even have their blood in her, but
under their influence, has turned from a wide-eyed, grass-roots, beatific
wonderkin to a bratty, defiant monica-in-training with a phenomenal penchant for
finding trouble. Many would say
that Jason, dear Jason, is their saving grace, but if you think about it,
wasn’t Jason just a little bit *too* good, both before and after the accident? Sort of creepy-good? As
Ned pointed out this week, perhaps the accident set him free.
who would think about bringing a child, any child, to live in that
they call a home (and I use the word so loosely, it rattles) should be on Kevin
Collins’ yackity couch, STAT.
what? They are just too damned old.
They’d be in their seventies by the time the kid in of legal age and
that is just too damned old. Monica
is a cancer survivor, which leaves her more susceptible for a recurrence.
Alan is in poor health and looks like a heart attack waiting to happen.
Let’s think of the kid and not ourselves, shall we?
also would like to add, with some dismay, that two people who were once talented
and vibrant actors have been somehow reduced to the level of bad vaudeville
performances. When they are on
screen, I instantly see the words on the script and lose the façade that I’m
watching *real* people. Two
characters that were once textured and interesting have been turned into bland,
predictable, two-dimensional cardboard cutouts.
This has become glaringly apparent as they have been moved further
forward on the stovetop. Blech.
bits and pieces: I loved Bobbie’s
talk with Hannah. I was beginning
to think it was impossible for me to say any derivative of the word “love”
in regard to Bobbie since all I seem to love about her is her absence. In that scene, she was gentle, firm, caring and convincing.
Hannah, on the other hand, was dumber than “a” rock, much less a box
or rocks. “Oh, I’m just his
“No one else cares about him.” *bat*bat*bat*
What an idiot.
Bobbie bathering the same old sing-song, “I’m going to tell Sonn-nnny.
I’m going to tell Sonn-nnnny” to Carly every five minutes is getting
extremely old. Hasn’t she told
Sonny enough to last a LIFETIME?
loved Emily’s rant at Lucky. I
was beginning to think it was impossible for me to say any derivative of the
work “love” in regard to Emily since all I seem to love about her is her
absence. In that scene, she was
gentle, firm, caring and convincing. Lucky,
on the other hand, was dumber than “a” rock, much less a box of rocks.
“They belong together.” *blink*blink*blink*
“Could I be, um, like, brainwashed or something?”
*blink*blink*blink* What an
De’ja vu all over again.
feisty little Gia is turning out to be quite the little yotch, eh?
As in be-yotch. She put the smack down, calling the fab five a bunch of
losers, then stuffing her nose in the air even after they warned her about the
murderer who was most likely planning his stalking of her that very moment.
I don’t think we need many additional clues to figure out that the
nubile Nikolas is on the verge of being busted right out of his icy loneliness
and is well on his way to getting a little drink of chocolate mocha.
At least he was born in the same century as this one.
tell me, am I seeing a glimpse of the old, not so cuddly or starry-eyed,
Elizabeth emerging? She has always
been there ready to snap Carly’s head off when provoked or whip Nikolas back
to the doghouse, but now it seems Lucky has finally pushed the right button get
her console to light up.
I the only one worried about Sonny? It’s
not Carly that bugs me. I think
that’s a situation he can probably handle and enjoy handling. He likes a little challenge and I really do think that he
appreciates the fact she’s a damaged as is he.
He’s had so many life lessons in the past few years and they have put
him in touch with all the ways that he is a broken person.
I think that maybe being with someone who is equally as screwed up levels
the playing field and makes him feel safe.
Plus, she brings Michael along in the package and that fills a void in
his life. Nah, I’m not thinking
Carly. It’s Benny who has me
bothered. He seems to be under the
impression (and has been swimming in that impression since Sonny took back his
territory) that he has a voice and is the one running things.
Nine times out of ten, if Sonny makes a decision, Benny is jumping on it
immediately, on the phone or in person, yammering and warning and complaining
and griping about it. If this was
Don Corleon, Benny’d be sleepin’ wit d’fishes, y’know what I’m sayin’?
But fuhgetabout it! We’re
talkin’ Sonny from Port Charles, here, and he don’ have no trouble takin’
lip from da help, y’know? I’m
watchin’ thinkin’ maybe he’s gonna pop him any minute, see, and still dis
maroon keeps his jaws flappin’, blah, blah, blah and I’m wonderin’,
“Hey, Sonny? When’s dis guy gonna give you some respect, you know?
it sayin’ to da boys when dis ol’ man’s takin’ you to task for the least
little movement?” I’m thinkin’,
“Hey, Sonny? You gonna next be
askin’ Benny before you go do your business in th’ john TOO?” I’m thinkin’ that my sainted MOTHER, fer cryin’ out
loud, could handle dis idiot better than the King of Port Charles!
I waxed bad movie for a minute there.
had to laugh at Carly’s getup this week.
Judging from the fact that if Bobbie been wearing the same thing, we
would barely have noticed, I’d have to say that Carly had to look no further
than Mama’s closet for her clever hooker disguise.
ya next week, my friends.
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