"We're not breaking out of a Jamba Juice, gentlemen."

Michael Scofield, I love you but you're bringing me down. ref. LCD Soundsystem

Prison Break is a big deal in Korea. Strike that. Wentworth Miller is a big deal in Korea. He's the face of a major clothing line, Bean Pole, and is generally seen as a perfect specimen of humanity and sexuality ("Hellow Wentworth~welcome to the Korea").

Carmen and I finally decided to experience what all the fuss and desperate screaming is about (Prison Break, not Wentworth). We rented the first eight episodes of Season One and haven't looked back since. I'm not really a TV guy; if you'll remember, I started watching Six Feet Under a while back, and made it to the fourth season but needed a break from the sheer intensity that comes with a family who lives in a funeral home and consists of a neurotic widow, a recently widowed alcoholic single father, a troubled teen and a gay Catholic holding down the fort. Anyway, 7:30 is not only Cate's bedtime, it's also Fox River time. We're halfway through the second season now and we basically talk, and dream in my case, about nothing else. I fear what will happen once we catch up with current episodes and are forced to wait a week in between fixes, or longer if this strike holds up.

But I suppose it's almost time to move on to more festive stories, like Clark Griswold and his cousin Eddie, or Billy Mack and his "festering turd of a record". 'Tis the season, even for escaped convicts on the run from murderous, anti-government agencies.