Shortly before I moved out of my old place I managed to record a couple of episodes of HBO’s new series Tell Me You Love Me.
I wasn’t really impressed, but after I moved I decided to download some more episodes, and while I don’t actually like it, I’m invested enough in it that I want to see how the season ends.
There’s really not much to say about the show. Basically it revolves around the lives and loves of a several people of varying ages, lifestyles, and financial success. Though they don’t actually know each other, for the most part, their lives do intersect, and they’re all seeing the same therapist, said therapist, along with her husband, being one of the people whose life the show revolves around.
And it has some really explicit sex scenes that make you wonder if the people involved are actually doing it.
Would I recommend it? Well, if you like watching old people tongue kissing and getting it on in a chair, of if you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to see the original star of that show Profiler give the guy from Fist of the Northstar a hand job, then yes, I would say this is the show for you. (Update: It wasn’t the chick from Profiler, though she is on the show.)
(Seriously, look at this guy and try to tell me he doesn’t look like an anime character brought to life. You can’t do it, and even if you can, you’re wrong. Hmm, according to his IMDb entry, he played the part of Aaron Tyler on the unaired pilot for Wonderfalls, a role that was later filled by the actor who now plays Ned the Pie Maker on Pushing Daisies. Weird.)
One of the main problems I have with the show is an entirely idiosyncratic aversion to the title. I have a story – which I’m not going to tell here – associated with tell me you love me (the actual phrase, not the show).
Suffice to say that said story happened during the worst part of my drinking career and involves a beautiful and zaftig bartender and a friend who was all-too eager to gleefully fill me in on events that I didn’t remember in the sober light of day.
Without the details, you pretty much have the story right there, but I’m not going to fill in the blanks for you.
I once told my friend Betts the story and his response, which was, I think, quite sensible, was, “Dude, don’t ever tell anyone that story.”
Somewhere along the line in discussing it, he added that at least the phrase “pee on me” never came up in the course of the events described. Ultimately this led us to conclude that, just once, one of us should answer the phone – this was in the call center – using the phrase “Pee on me and tell me you love me” in our opening script. It was something of a standing dare. We concluded that the best way to do it was to just quickly slip it in, something like, “Thank you for choosing America Online, my name is Jon, pee on me and tell me you love me. Before we get started…”
Of course, neither of us ever took the dare.
I never mentioned it, as my focus has been elsewhere of late, but it was a year ago last month that Betts disappeared. In fact, it was a year ago on the day I got laid off.
Even though I haven’t said anything about it here before now, he has been on my mind, and I miss him, and I hope that if he is still out there that he’s safe and happy, though I wish he would come back.
As is evidenced by the anecdote above, our senses of humor were very much in sync. He was one of the best friends I’ve ever had, the kind of friend with whom I could talk about anything, and I know he felt the same way about me.
I just wish he would have remembered that and talked to me before he decided to disappear.
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