No. NO! I refuse to believe it. I can’t believe that the Golden Globe academy of voters, or whoever they are, didn’t nominate Breaking Bad for Best Television Series – Drama! I mean, it’s like, if they don’t nominate it, then how am I supposed to feel like everything I like is right in the eyes of a faceless, shadowy organization that might be a myth on par with the Illuminati? How can I live with myself if this random collection of presumably very old people isn’t as hip and with it as I am? Does that mean I’m not as hip and with it as I think I am?
There was this one time when I wanted to buy some pants, right? So, like, I wanted the pants, but then I was trying them on and I walked out of the dressing room while wearing the pants and some guy with muscles and a hat on backwards (so kewl!) called me a “cocksucking faggot.” So did his friends. All six of them.
I didn’t buy the pants. Why would I? I’m not a cocksucking faggot, and clearly those pants were for people that are homosexuals that prefer to spend their time performing suction upon male genitalia. I’m just not that kind of guy.
As of today, I still don’t own pants for fear of cocksucking faggotry.
The same goes with my favorite TV shows. If I like a show and no one else does, then why bother liking it? And if such an esteemed organization like the whoever-the-hell-votes-for-the-shows-and-movies-during-the-Golden-Globes doesn’t like a show I like, well, then, maybe that show wasn’t very good to begin with? Maybe all this time I’ve spent professing my undying love for Breaking Bad to everyone I meet has been wasted? What do I do, emotionally? Kill myself, I guess.
I guess I have to stop watching Breaking Bad.
But, hey, American Horror Story is nominated for Best Drama, and that show is still in the middle of its first season.
Maybe if I start liking that show people will start liking me?