July 1, 2008

Iím thinking of going into a new business. Itís a surefire success; in fact, I could probably make millions as long as I start out in Port Charles.  Iím not talking about selling snake oil or even bottles of Sonnyís Super Studly Swimmers.   No, ladies and gents, what I want to do is peddle door locks to the citizens of this lovely, yet strangely trusting town.  No more obnoxious ex-wives intruding on your night in with the fiancť.  No more strange mobster-types wheeling into your office without so much as a knock.  Peace, quiet, and safety can all be yours for just $10.99 plus installation fees!   

Lulu and Maxieís reaction to Kateís engagement news was perfect.  No shrieks of joy, no feigning of excitement, just pure, well, non-reaction.  The fact that her assistants, who are essentially paid to please her, couldnít muster up so much as a ďcongratulationsĒ without prodding should signal to Kate that marriage to Sonny is not exactly a recipe for happiness.  Plus, being around him for the past year has brought out her inner tough girl and I donít think thatís an improvement on her character.  I canít really picture Kate Howard sharing with everyone she met that Carly might be pregnant but I can see Connie doing so. 

Which leads me to ask, does Carly have a miracle uterus?  Granted, they are a dime a dozen in soap worlds but if she is pregnant again, which I doubt, then she certainly has a high rate of fertility for a woman who was told she couldnít carry a child back in, oh January or so.  But then again, that happened during the strike and I think we were supposed to forget everything written during that time.   I must have forgotten to drink the kool-aid again.  Is that why I feel like Iíve been transported to 1996?  I swear I just heard Carly asking Jason to pretend to be the father of her child.  I must be watching too much Doctor Who; Iím beginning to think I can time travel.  

Robinís arguments are getting increasingly more ridiculous and obstinate with every passing day and I say that as a Robin-lover.  Iím beginning to fear that Patrickís going to have to wear the dreaded pregnancy pad before all this is over just so he can ďunderstandĒ where sheís coming from.  I really hope this fight doesnít continue until the labor day but if it does, at least Patrickís parental rights kick in as soon as the child is born.  I totally cheered him on when she presented the petition for prenatal visitation.  Robin just needs to accept that yes, people can change and for the well being of her child, itís really in her best interest to accept that Patrick wants to try.  Any number of studies have shown that a parent does much better with two parents in their lives.  Why deny that to a child?  Sheís acting on a misguided desire to respect Patrickís choices but what she fails to accept is that he has now chosen her and their child over his former playboy lifestyle.  Wake up and smell the diaper bags, Doctor Robin.  Patrick already has. 

Well, bust my buttons; the Emily Quartermaine clinic is up and running already?  I was looking forward to a monthís worth of Nadine and Nikolas clowning around with hammers and dancing to the wacky hijinks music.  I guess Nik opted for a rush construction job instead, not realizing how much laughter such scenes would have brought me.  Darn princes and their limitless incomes! 

I think there was something going on at Jasonís penthouse this week but really, it was all quite nonsensical.  Can I pretend the scab writers wrote that whole storyline, too?  If not, Iím going to have to consider the possibility of Spinelli being a prophet of doom and, wellÖthe scabs must have written the storyline.  Iím sticking to that. 

Anthony Zacchara, for all his burlesque villainy, really can pull off threats well.  If I were Alexis, Iíd want to move my children to an underground barracks.  Or invest in a fancy-schmancy door lock! 

Have a fun, fireworks-filled holiday everyone! 
 

The Gourmez