In the past six months, Paul and I have become media bargain-hunters.
This is because hulu doesn't like me anymore. Also because netflix hates Europe. So, we've come to discover that entertainment is now something that must be purchased via itunes. Brave new world...yadda yadda.
So, we're really, incredibly good at finding itunes movie rentals for $2 or entire seasons of older but relatively awesome television (Amazing Race! Anyone? Anyone? Yeah?) for the price of a matinee movie ticket.
Also, PBS. They sell relatively good stuff for cheap. Might I direct your attention to the fact that a season of The Office costs $45, but a season of, ohhhh, saaaaaaay, Downton Abbey? A mere $10.
So, suffice it to say, we've been getting our partially-poorly-acted, period-drama, soap-opera on for the past few weeks.
I'm really trying to get to a point here, trust me. The point I'm trying to make is that we've kind of got Abbey on our minds--because it's the only thing we can afford.
And so this happened:
Early morning. The phone rings with a text message by our bed. Paul turns to look at the phone, waits for a long while, is very quiet.
Me: "What is it? Is something wrong?"
Paul turns slowly, dramatically towards me...and very, very seriously says...with MUCH gravitas...
Paul: "We are ... at war with England."
HAH!
Put that in your pipe and smoke it!
ReplyDelete(My newest ambition is to be the Dowager Countess when I'm old.)