Late night television from our ratty antenna only has so many fruits to yield. I've always been criticized for leaving the Spanish channels on my favorites, but honestly I don't know why anyone wouldn't. Science has proven that anything is proportionally 80 percent funnier if said in Spanish. It must be along some similar lines that make the wrestler operas so compelling. A masked wonder striving against amassing hordes of generically bad folk, it just trembles with potential. I'd be a Spanish soap opera star if I could.

On a side note, I recently became a little nostalgic over "Prince of Persia" and I decided to pick up a used copy of the sequel. So right now Laurie and I are racing towards the finish before the end of the quarter. We play together, which essentially means that I control our scraggly wonder while she watches/screams/verbally demoralizes me. Fortunately, the prince's exploits are more than mere spectator sport, and she's actually spotted several key areas for me to follow. In comparison to the Sands of time, this one lacks the charm, but the fighting has at least improved. Though, there are moments where the prince seemingly abandons my carefully laid out button mashings to strike out on his own course to victory. This often leads to death, again and again. Thus far, I've only truly gotten stuck once, where I spent thirty minutes attempting to vault the son of the throne over a locked door. It turned out I was just supposed to go out the way I came. Right now we're at the part where the prince loses his arms and has to go back in time to retrieve them. It kind of sucks because he can only wall run and jump. And headbutt, yeah, I hope you like headbutting, because I tell you, there's quite a bit of it there.