This blog post is going to be a bit unconventional.

I tried the conventional approach tonight. I sat in front of my computer for more than two hours and stared at the same blog draft I spent an hour gazing at the previous night. So, I’ve given up, at least for tonight.

The post to be is a lackluster disapproving review of “The Boondock Saints,” and for that reason I’d like to send my apologies to Nate in advance. It is of course a man movie, just not one I’m a fan of. But enough about that.

Tonight I’m parked in front of the laptop watching Dexter. I’ve wanted to catch an episode ever since I learned a UNK alum was one of the writers. I won’t bore you with a star rating or plot summary. It should say enough that I’ll finish at least four nearly hour-long episodes tonight.

Dexter brings a lot to the table, even more than the blades and saran wrap (To anybody who watches the show, is that really saran wrap? It can’t be, can it?). He’s dark, about as dark as they come. He’s a serial killer who claims to feel no human emotion. Despite this claim, Dexter maintains a ‘normal life’ with a sister, and a girlfriend. The combination is enthralling.

The show also taps into the same emotion cop shows have been abusing at least as long as I’ve been alive. It makes me feel like I could be a detective—a thought no doubt shared by many an NCIS viewer, or whatever other cop show is on besides “Cops” (heavy on sprinting, light on detective work).

Anyways, I thought I’d cure some writers block with this post, but alas I’ve spent just as much time on this one as I did on the last. I think I’ll call this post finished and watch one more episode before I go to bed. Good night.