Okay...I'll admit I'm a little late to the party, but I made up for it on the snow day.

 



 

So this is your spoiler alert, if you aren't up to snuff with your post-Edwardian English...um...stuff. 

 

Last year, my mom told me that I needed to be watching Downton Abbey.  At first, I was pretty pumped because I thought she said "DUNTON Abbey," Dunton being my maiden name and maybe I inherited a nice piece of property in Europe and I could go hang out there after school gets out, but then I realized she was talking about PeeBeeEss.  Dammit.

 

  



These are the sisters: Rebel, Barker, and Loosey

So, the whole story is about a guy, Lord Grantham, aka Lord Crawley (and don't ask me why the guy has two last names, because that's confusing as Hades), who lives in this big castle-looking place but it has one of those old-timey agreements that the property can only be passed down to a male heir, even though any good real estate agent will tell you that it's the woman who buys the house.  Anyway, he's a little touchy because his wife only had girls, even though any good OB-GYN will tell you that it's the guy who contributes the chromosome that determines gender. (Of course we will never know what gender the miscarried baby would have been because that Evil Miss O'Brien left soap on the floor on purpose for Lady Crawley to slip on.  Though at Lady Crawley's age, who knows what would have happened if she'd been able to bring the baby to term?  And Lady Crawley was that girl in Ordinary People who has to be pretty close to my age, and I am pretty sure that having another baby at my age would kill me.)

 

In a nutshell, there's no boy. (Let's face it...Even WITHOUT the thing that makes it impossible to give a house to a girl, I wouldn't want any of these girls in charge of my house.  These girls make very, very bad choices.  The oldest girl slept with a kinda slimy foreign-ish guy despite the fact that it simply isn't done.  THEN she interferes with her younger sister's budding romance. Who does she think she is?  A sorority girl circa 1980?

 

The middle sister, to whom the family affectionately refers as "fugly," may or may not have let unfavorable comparisons to her sisters influence her weird-a$$ behavior, which may or may not have included becoming an old maid at the age of twenty-one.  Which is ridiculous.  One simply CANNOT refer to herself as an old maid until one is AT LEAST twenty-three.

 

The last sister is the type that would burn down your big castle-looking place just to make a point.  'Nuf said.)

 

These are not the only people in this house.  There are servants.  Lots and lots of servants.

   

These guys 'n' gals crack me up.

As much as I wouldn't leave my big honkin' house to the sisters?  I would leave it to the servants.  The big dude in the middle--he is Mr. Carson.  Mr. Carson is oversized in many ways--in his undertakings (hiring and training staff and overseeing all the butler's duties, including the wine cellar), in his heart (he worries about Mrs. Hughes when she has what the post-Edwardians would call "a health scare" and we would call "a holy $hit" as well as others in his charge), but most of all, he has a really big head.  Physically.  That thing is like a melon.

 

I would also like to have Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore in charge of my house.  They are like Martin and Lewis, only with all of the fun and none of the stupidity.

 

The only person I don't trust (I'm not counting Miss O'Brien, because I think you know straight-up that she's an underhanded b%tc#) is Thomas.  Normally, I love having a gay guy to hang out with, but I don't think Thomas is one of the "fun" gays.  I think he is one of the ones who are unhappy and they want to make everyone around them unhappy.  There are straight people like that, too.  And even people in Finland.

 

  So far, the following events may or may not have occurred at Downton Abbey:





*Distant cousins have married, as though they lived in West Virginia instead of Jolly Old England. 

*Women have worn some sweet-a$$ hats.

*A rich girl has married a poor boy.  Poor and Irish.  Poor and Irish and rabble-rousing.

*Zillions of people got the flu and some of them died.

*A girl gave a guy a heart attack by having sex with him, as if they were on "Hill Street Blues" instead of in Jolly Old England.

 

  

 

*Professor Minerva McGonagall moved from Hogwarts to Downton and became the Dowager Lady Grantham and now dispenses one-liners with the suavity of George Carlin.

 



 

She continues to rock the sweet-a$$ hat.

I hope I haven't spoiled watching Downton Abbey for you.  Catching up has been a great way to spend a snow day.