Do you know what amuses me?
Extreme selective viewing and reading. It's like lying on a steel table having your limbs hacked off one by one while you squeeze your eyes shut and tell yourself you're in Happy Land. Utterly baffling and idiotic.
I tell ya, I've never seen denial running at such ridiculous depths and length of time in my life and yet, there it is, flaunted by fangirls of all ages (the higher the age goes, the more frightening it is, apparently). I pity the writers of
CSI:NY a lot these days. It seems they've become so cowardly in writing the hilarious fiasco that is
Danny/Lindsay that it's stuck in a permanent rut where Danny seesaws between a Danny who acts like the old Danny before his character assassination and a Danny who's nothing more than a lowly dog who's always the wrong one and needs to grovel and be a total wimpbag.
And this, just for the sake of appeasing a bunch of fangirls who've flamed TPTB simply because they didn't like their obsessive fantasy of Danny being fucked with.
Come ON. It's laughable to even deny it has
always been about Danny. Lindsay? Who's she? Just a proxy who needs Danny to be her prop even after three whole
seasons and
still can't stand out as an individual. And ya wanna ask why I think she's
useless? Heh.
( As for that phone call ... )A big thank you to
elsiekate for the fantastic screencaps! :D
