July 24, 2008

I slaved away all week, working on a luscious, three-tiered red velvet cake with kirsch-accented cream cheese frosting and a gun-shaped hole down the middle for what?  Lulu stiffed the order and opted to use her purse instead! 

Really, Lulu, you didn’t think smuggling a gun into the PCPD would end badly?  I’ve never understood why the powers that be decided, just a few months after SORASing her to sixteen, that they’d prefer Lulu to be eighteen instead.  Sure, they probably did it so she wouldn’t be a minor when she seduced Dillon and had an abortion.  The only problem is that they forgot to SORAS her maturity level along with her age!  She’s never stopped acting like an obnoxious teenager and these days, when she’s supposed to be twenty, her behavior is just getting worse.  My case in point:  her treatment of Tracy Quartermaine.  Last I checked, Lulu was living rent-free in the Quartermaine mansion yet she threatens to leave because she doesn’t want to answer a question or two, knowing that Tracy’s only letting her stay for Luke’s sake?  First, of all, I hope Lulu makes enough at Crimson for her own place once Tracy kicks her out on her ass.  Secondly, way to use your father’s love against his wife, honey! Yes, yes, this is alI supposed to show that Lulu’s losing it but frankly, she’s been acting this way for the past year.   And now I am to believe that she’s “changed my life” for both Johnny and Logan?  His dazzling grin makes me want to believe Johnny’s words but when has she done anything but yell at his beloved sister?   She did push him to leave the mob once but that didn’t exactly stick and we all know she likes him better dangerous anyhow.  She learned her lessons in life from *shudder* Carly. 

By my count, Jason has been arrested three times this week in relation to the death of Logan Hayes.  Even I, with my PCPD defending ways, have to admit that’s a tad excessive.   I bet they have a Warrant Maker 2000 down at the station with Jason’s name preprinted on the labels.  Just enter the date and a reason for the arrest, press the button, and presto!  A new warrant spits out in a flash.  If I were Mac, though, I’d rethink bringing Jason in at all.  Just imagine how much more relaxed his life would be if he didn’t have Carly barging in and demanding Jason’s release every other day.  And if any door in Port Charles needs to invest in a lock, the interrogation/visitor room is it.  Do their police officers receive concierge training at the academy?  With all the visitors rolling through that place, I think they should charge admission.  Lucky mentioned something about needing more funds for the force! 

I secretly wonder if Port Charles is actually located in jolly old England rather than upstate New York.  No, I don’t think the port resembles the River Thames nor have I ever seen a police box on the streets.  But the city is apparently just as wired with security cameras as Britain!  How else could Spinelli pull up information on any and every crime that happens within seconds?  Need to know the license plate of a car that dropped off a dead body?  Ask Spinelli!  Need to find a runaway blond?  Ask Spinelli!  Need intel on who’s holding a bunch of hostages in the hotel?  Ask Spinelli!  I would think that a town run by mobsters wouldn’t be in favor of so many security cameras, but no, our mobsters with hearts of gold use it to save people all the time. 

I try not to laugh every time Sonny intimidates one of Kate’s business associates.  I do, really, it’s just been so long since Sony’s been a fish out of water than I can’t help but laugh at his ineptitude at basic manners.  There was a time when I found Sonny charming, just like Lila did, but he’s apparently wasted all that away by being the untouchable boss for too long.  He’s only got bullying to fall back on these days.  Oh, how I love to watch him flail. 

Is Jason ever going to remind Carly that she really shouldn’t be hanging around him because he’s in charge of the mob and that tends to put those around him in danger?  I faintly recall that being the whole point of May Sweeps—no one is safe from mob violence.  Eh, the writers will probably rewrite Michael’s shooting soon anyway.  Heck, they’ll be blaming it on the PCPD by Christmas. 

I readily admit that Jerry and Alexis have chemistry.  I inexplicably want the relationship to work in whatever strange, twisted way allows me to justify it.  But there’s just no way any respectable woman would keep dating a man who has broadcast their love life all over her workplace.  I can take aliens, ghosts, and monkey viruses but believing that Alexis cares more about her libido than her reputation?  Nuh uh.  That’s not the Natasha Alexis Davidovich Cassadine that I know. 

Jax finally found a way to get through to Carly!  He’s speaking the universal language of money to justify his relationship with Kate.  Stressing that their interactions are solely to protect his investment is a great strategy for reasoning with his irrational wife.  It’s a little too late, sadly, and Kate, whom I used to adore, has put on her Connie Falconeri boxing gloves and decided to give Carly a taste of her own medicine.  It’s such a shame that she’s stooped to the Valkyrie’s level.  She first lost my love by defending Sonny’s right to see the children he’s continuously put in danger and now, she’s sullied her hands by playing dirty with Carly.  Kate, call me when you’ve reclaimed your pizzazz and tastefulness, mmkay? 

I’m totally excited to see Clarice back in town, even if she is a willing sidekick to Kate’s manipulations.  She’s got personality and a better sense of style than her boss; I hope she stays around!  I so want to see her at a girls’ night out at Jake’s. 

Next week, as we all know Scotty love his apples, I’m offering a new breakfast dish to give him some comfort as he learns that the son he barely knew is dead.  Please stop by and try the French toast, soaked in a cinnamon and nutmeg egg-base, then layered with Gala applesauce and topped with a calvados-tinged whipped cream.  It won’t be healthy, but neither will Scotty’s grief process. 

The Gourmez