Tuesday, December 11, 2012

The End

DAHLINGS -

After much pondering, your faithful correspondent has decided it is time to move on.  Thank you so much for being wonderful readers, for your many wonderful comments, and even the not-so-wonderful comments.  A Fashionista could not ask for more.

 
Ciao, Elisa & Fletcher

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

Giveaway of The Abortionist's Daughter, Sept. 4-7!!

 DAHLINGS -

Out of the goodness of my heart, and because I do not need the money, I am giving away FREE copies on Amazon Kindle of my novel, The Abortionist's Daughter! 

September 4-7!


At Amazon

Rave Review at fatchic.net

So far there have been a number of 5 and 4 star reviews!  As well there should be.

To recap:

It’s 1916 and Melanie Daniels, the prettiest girl in Mullers Corners, New York, and daughter of the town’s doctor, dreams of making a brilliant marriage. But scandal has doomed her dreams. Six years ago a woman died while receiving an abortion from Melanie’s father, and now that “the killer doc” is back from prison, Mullers Corners won’t forgive and won’t let Melanie forget her family’s disgrace.

Angry at both her father and the town, Melanie is easily swayed by a charming stranger who arouses mysterious new feelings in her and begs her to run away with him to New York City. Neither the stranger nor her life in the big city turn out to be what Melanie expects, and soon the twists of fate lead her into a new life in the less-than-respectable world of the theater--and a new understanding of her own womanhood and her father’s crime. Filled with vivid scenes of backstage life and fascinating vignettes of long-ago society, fashion, and mores, The Abortionist’s Daughter explores the challenges of being a woman in early 20th century America with drama, passion, and wit.

Seven Canary Cottage Girls, Burlesque, 1916


A major page turner! I took great pleasure in yelling (in my head) "No! Don't do it!" as Melanie makes one bad decision after another. I was reminded at times of Theodore Dreiser's Sister Carrie and Gustave Flaubert's Madame Bovary; in all three of these works, a woman attempts to assert herself in the few ways possible according to the norms of the society of the time. But how much ambition is too much? Also, it would be easy for a book that features a doctor that performs abortions to come across as having some sort of political agenda, but characterization and storytelling are clearly the focus here, and the result is brilliant. (4 stars)

Don't start reading this wonderful tale if you have anything else to do for a while. It will grab you and keep you enthralled. Well written with strong characters and an illuminating insight into the era More please!! (4 stars)

Whether or not you are in possession of a uterus, as you can plainly see you need this book in your life.   This promotion ONLY runs through September 7th.  After that, you will sob bitterly because you missed this golden opportunity.  I can assure you of that.

Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher

Thursday, August 30, 2012

The GOP Strategy For Abortion

DAHLINGS -

Your faithful correspondent thinks that perhaps this expresses the Republican Party's views on women's reproductive issues:


Ciao, Elisa &Fletcher

Monday, August 20, 2012

Au Revoir For Now, Dahlings

DAHLINGS -

As you have no doubt noticed, this blog has been much less lively for the past year or so.

Sometimes one's interests change. I have lavishing my brilliance on my wonderful readers for six years... Your faithful scrivener needs to take a break. Possibly a long break.

The shallowness that has borne me aloft for so long is showing the cracks; I am actually beginning to care a bit about the hoi polloi, as long as they are not my staff.

Let someone else write droolingly about New York Fashion Week.  Let someone else carry the plus-size banner. I am still plus-sized and proud, but again, I need a hiatus. It has become wearisome to be outraged.  However, there will be my website, if Leo ever gets around to finishing it; this blog has also been moved to Wordpress. 

I shall remain on Twitter, because, frankly, how could you all survive without me?

I shall see you all there, and in the meantime, eat like there's no tomorrow and damn the media!

Ciao,
Elisa & Fletcher

Wednesday, August 08, 2012

Monday, August 06, 2012

Macaulay Culkin Defends Himself Against The National Enquirer

DAHLINGS -

I was shocked--SHOCKED--to read about the National Enquirer claiming, with its usual subtlety, "Macaulay Culkin To Be Dead In Six Months!"  With that sort of prescience, I want to know what their stock picks are.

In any event, your faithful correspondent went digging, and found Culkin making his defense:






In actuality, Culkin is researching the part of Trevor Reznik, first played by Christian Bale, in "The Machinist."  (Look it up.)

Ciao,
Elisa & Fletcher

Sunday, August 05, 2012

Hot Sunday Means Hot Men - Meet Dick Fudge!

DAHLINGS -

We've gotten a new computer at chez Fashionista, and it has been no END of trouble! Leo has been reduced to tears so often that I have set up tissue boxes in six different areas of the office, as WELL as the entrance hall. Sometimes the mere idea of facing the sleek black monster is too much for the lad. However, I felt you deserved something for this bestially hot Sunday.


 




 Enjoy a cold cocktail, air conditioning, and a companion of whatever sex you prefer.

 Ciao, Elisa & Fletcher

Sunday, July 29, 2012

In Honor of The Olympics: Chariot of Eggs!

DAHLINGS -

In honor of the Olympics, taking place as I write in, er, is it London?  Somewhere in Great Britain, I know that much.  This is SCTV's "Race Of Eggs."  It is inspirational in the extreme.





It stars Dave Thomas, Catherine O' Hara and Andrea Martin as the American team, and Darryl Hall and John Oates representing Britain! Me thinks Her Majesty The Queen would enjoy it. In particular, ogling H and O in their tight white running costumes. (She's married, but she's not dead, as they say.)

Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher

Saturday, July 28, 2012

I Was In Aurora, Colorado Last Weekend

DAHLINGS -

I wanted to let you know, my faithful readers, that on the night of the shooting spree in Aurora Colorado, yours truly was ten minutes away at a nearby hotel.  As a favor to a male companion, I accompanied him on vacation, the latter part spent at an (ugh) youth conference.

Ever generous, I allowed myself to be introduced to the adults and ignored the younguns.  Thursday night was the opening ceremony, copious amounts of alcohol and comestibles were consumed, and the adults went to bed.

The next morning, my male companion informed me of what had happened the night before.  Twelve teenagers from our group were in the movie theater at the time of the shooting.  One young man had been shot and was in the hospital, along with his parents.  (Fortunately, a flesh wound.)

That is all I have to write upon the matter.  Later on I might write about it in more detail, or weigh in on the larger issues  But for the moment I am simply trying to come to grips with the memories of last weekend.

Oh, and if you are not in favor of gun control, I will not publish your idiotic comments.

Ciao,
Elisa & Fletcher

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Vintage Clothes and Sex, Part Two!

DAHLINGS -

My daring, spicy novel "The Abortionist's Daughter" is now not only available on Amazon Kindle!  You can now buy a copy at Smashwords.com.  This company publishes in a myriad of formats!



Available ebook reading formats

You have purchased this book. How to download ebooks to e-reading devices and apps.
Format Full Book
Online Reading (HTML, good for sampling in web browser) View
Online Reading (JavaScript, experimental, buggy) View
Kindle (.mobi for Kindle devices and Kindle apps) Download
Epub (Apple iPad/iBooks, Nook, Sony Reader, Kobo, and most e-reading apps including Stanza, Aldiko, Adobe Digital Editions, others) Download
PDF (good for reading on PC, or for home printing) Download
RTF (readable on most word processors) Download
LRF (Use only for older model Sony Readers that don't support .epub) Download
Palm Doc (PDB) (for Palm reading devices) Download
Plain Text (download) (flexible, but lacks much formatting) Download
Plain Text (view) (viewable as web page) View


Here is the link:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/171345

And of course, Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007A56DAE

Ziegfeld star Dolores, as photographed by Abbe


Reviews (and not just Amazon!)

    • I wanted to tell you that I read The Abortionist's Daughter, and I loved it! What a page turner. I took great pleasure in yelling (in my head) "No! Don't do it!" as Melanie made one bad decision after another. The turn of the century small town girl making it as an actor aspect reminded me of Sister Carrie a little bit. The motif of a woman attempting to assert herself in the few ways possible according to the norms of the society of her time reminded me a little of Madame Bovary -- the idea that we applaud a character with a certain amount of ambition but that ambition can also lead to some bad decision making. Obviously, however, the end of Bovary is very different than The Abortionist's Daughter! This was the first book I have ever read in its entirety on my phone, on the Kindle app, and it was great because I always had it with me and could read a few pages any time I had a tiny bit of time. I saw your post on Facebook a while back that the book was available, and that's what led me to get it. So thanks for a great read!


      This review is from a man, mind you. Here are a sampling of Amazon reviews:



      Don't start reading this wonderful tale if you have anything else to do for a while. It will grab you and keep you enthralled. Well written with strong characters and an illuminating insight into the era.
      More please!! (4 stars)

      Ms. DeCarlo's ability to take difficult subject matter, and put it in a setting that makes it both entertaining and easier to read is a skill I've seen in few other authors. She keeps you on the edge of your seat, wondering what will happen to the main character, and after you're done, you feel emotionally drained and elated. Well worth the investment of time!  (5 stars)


      Elisa DeCarlo captures the early 20th century with a great amount of detail. You get a real sense of place in the Adirondacks and later in New York City. I feel like I can identify with the character of Melanie, as different as the character's life was. The subject matter also seems very timely today with all the debate about not only abortion, but even contraception now. As intolerant as those times may seem, things haven't really changed that much in a lot of ways. The story segues from Melanie's life in a small town into describing the Broadway theater world of the early 20th century. Being a theater buff myself it was a lot of fun to read. Really a delightful book overall and the plot was consistently interesting and the characters seemed very true to life. I ended up falling in love with Melanie and her friend Mercedes and rooting for them both all the way. I hope there's a sequel! (5 stars)

      **************************

      In short, ma belle, adorable, disciples intelligents, what are you waiting for? $3.99 at both sites.  Great literature at a potboiler price, because I do not need the money.  This price is from the goodness of my heart.


      Happy reading!


      Ciao, 
      Elisa & Fletcher

Friday, July 06, 2012

Sex Creates The Wrong Kind of Sweat!

DAHLINGS -

During these sweltering days, everyone but me is sweating.  (I don't sweat, I glow.)   Acording to the fine minds at Arrid, there are certain types of sweating to avoid at all costs!























































Gentlemen, whenever you see a young lady with sweat under her arms, you may assume she's hot to trot.

(One wonders what those bigger, more powerful glands are!)

Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher

Wednesday, July 04, 2012

Happy July 4th!

DAHLINGS -

I decided to eschew the usual American flag, patriotic family business in favor of my favorite subject: HOT MEN!













































My apologies for any political incorrectness, but we were fighting a war.  This is addressed to "Mr. Tojo"  and saying that grapefruit juice help the Marines teach the Japs to remember Pearl Harbor.

That's enough patriotism for one day.

Have a lovely holiday blowing things up and eating hot dogs!


Ciao, Elisa & Fletcher (who is deathly afraid of fireworks and will pee in terror all over the apartment)

Tuesday, July 03, 2012

Cool Off On A Hot Tuesday!

DAHLINGS -

It's another hot day in New York City. One hopes to escape to ones oceanfront mansion in the Hamptons, else one goes stark, staring mad. (As indeed most of the residents of my neighborhood have, if the shirtless, shoeless muttering men are anything to go by. Be grateful nobody is chewing off anyone's face in public.)


So a bit of cooling, brought to you by Conoco.



I do hope this one doesn't get me accused of being an American gay rapist...although one never knows, does one?

Ciao,
Elisa & Fletcher

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Even Back Then, Corn Syrup Was Good For You!

DAHLINGS -

I am well aware that I am  not writing.  But rather than recycle old posts, it's more fun to provide these vintage ads (even the ones without sexy men).  I'm far too busy flogging my novel, "The Abortionist's Daughter" , available at fine e-platforms everywhere.




Your faithful correspondent's favorite part is that they are trying to pass it off as honey. Bee Hive, my perfectly shaped behind.


Ciao, Elisa & Fletcher

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Hot Thursday, Army Style!

DAHLINGS -

Consider this my way to support our troops!







The top reads: "True Towel Tales: Told Us By A Doctor In The Medical Corps."  Happy Doctor!



The butt on the man in the front should be BRONZED!

Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher 

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Fan Fiction For Dummies - A Glossary


DAHLINGS –

I am still going through "House MD" withdrawal, as you can imagine.

With the recent scholarly discussions on fan fiction (fiction written by fans of television shows, movies, computer games and coloring books), your faithful correspondent felt there should be a sort of glossary of terms.  Naturally, given my predilection for “House, MD”, this is my jumping off point.

The first thing one needs to know is that the show's fans, both insane and regular folk, like to use portmanteau names (the first of them all being Bennifer for Ben Affleck and Jennifer Aniston).  This means a relationship is there, usually romantic or sexual or both. Personally I don't care for them, but it breaks down to:

House + Cuddy – Huddy  (Hugh Laurie & Lisa Edelstein)
House + Wilson – Hilson (Hugh Laurie & Robert Sean Leonard)
House + Cameron – Hameron (Hugh Laurie & Jennifer Morrison)

And so forth.  It doesn't matter whether or not it happened on the actual show; these are ways for "shippers" to identify themselves.  Although many prefer the more adult “House/Cuddy” etc. As you have probably gathered from this blog, I myself tend to prefer the House/Wilson friendship.

"Ship" is short for relationship.  Every possible character combination has come up in fanfiction.  Homosexual romance and/or sex is called "slash." Heterosexual romance/and or sex is called "het".  Just romance is called "fluff" and usually means a light, cute story.  There are popular genres known as “hurt/comfort,” and “smut,” respectively.  I hope these are self-explanatory.

Now, dahlings, there are various genres of fanfic...there are actually hundreds, but first I shall confine myself first to some spedific House/Wilson “fic”genres.

"mpreg" Male pregnancy. One of the men (usually Wilson) has a baby and he and House raise it.  Don't even try to wrap your mind around this.

There’s a subgenre of one or both of them being babies, or turning into babies.

Almost all have lots and lots and lots of sex.

"Babies?"  "Don't blame me, I live in the writers' heads."
"Post-Finale" Since the finale was left open-ended, with House and Wilson riding off into the sunset, there has been an explosion of fics in which House copes with Wilson's death, sees his ghost, or cures him.  Some are quite amazingly good.

 "Contractverse" A series of stories based on "The Contract," where House is tortured and traumatized in exchange for keeping Wilson alive (of course Wilson doesn't know it).  Later stories have House a physical and mental wreck. I’ve glanced at these, but to be honest, they turn my stomach. 

BDSM - you know what that is.  Readers can ask where to find stories where House or Wilson is "the top", etc.  For some reason, Wilson is usually the one dominating or humiliating House. 

Speaking of which, some writers write House/Wilson in abusive relationships, usually because the writers themselves are in abusive relationships.  Or concentrate on child abuse, which usually means House collapses into a sobbing heap having an epic flashback,weeping, "No, daddy, I've been a good boy!"

Basically, the entire panorama of human experience is filtered through these stories, making this kind of fiction even more id-driven than romance novels. 

Two other genres that are common to many fics of all kinds are:

"First Time" - bazillions of these.  Most are much of a muchness.
"AU" - alternative universe.  Anything that doesn't directly relate to the events or locations of the show.
 
From a small sampling of House/Cuddy “fics,” it seems that the concentration these days is to depart from the show’s plot and have the two characters in an established relationship.  Usually raising Cuddy’s daughter Rachel.  Some of the show’s best and most realistic fanfiction has come from this neck of the woods, in my opinion.


There are also a fair amount of “first time” fics. And lots and lots and lots of sex.


I have never read a House/Cameron fic, so I don't know the content or genres.  If any writers would like to enlighten me, please do so in the comments.  But I'm sure there's lots and lots and lots of sex.
 
There also seem to be quite a few “femmeslash” (lesbian) stories involving Cameron and Thirteen (Olivia Wilde).  Since Thirteen was bisexual on the show, it makes a certain sort of sense.

 Probably a fair amount of sex, don't you think?
 
Recently my assistant Leo was reading some fanfiction.  He remarked to me, “But this has nothing to do with what happened in real life!”

I agreed with him, until I remembered that “real life” was a television show.

Damn.

Ciao,
Elisa & Fletcher

Monday, June 25, 2012

Medieval Maidenform Monday

DAHLINGS -

As my Vintage Ad Odyssey continues, here's one that combines good taste AND uplift!



Which do you think is pointier, dear readers, her headdress or her breasts?

Ciao,
Elisa & Fletcher

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Hot Thursday, Navy Style!

DAHLINGS -

Another ad to cool you down on this HIDEOUSLY hot day!


I would love to give one of these young men a "brisk rubdown" myself, wouldn't you?

Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Hawaiian Hump Day

DAHLINGS -

Here's a bright, gay ad for a hot sunny Wednesday!




































Enjoy  a cold pina colada, my darling readers.

Ciao,
Elisa & Fletcher

Thursday, June 07, 2012

Have A Helping Of My Novel - Excerpts

DAHLINGS -

I am taking the supreme risk: I am publishing two excerpts from my novel.  "The Abortionist's Daughter" has been selling nicely on Kindle.  So I am sharing it with you, my darling readers.  

Both are from the first section.  The first excerpt takes place after Melanie, age 22, has first met James, at the local ice cream parlor.  The second is a flashback to her childhood.

Study Of A Young Woman
James took a step closer to her, bent slightly, and kissed her on the lips. Melanie froze in confusion. She knew what she was supposed to do—­slap his face and call him names—but that wasn’t what she wanted to do. Not at all.

 ‘How was that?” he asked, dropping his voice. He looked into her eyes.

 “Are you making love to me?”

 "Yes.”

 “I liked it,” she replied, tilting her face up for more, thrilled with her own daring.

 I’m glad,” he murmured.  He kissed her again, his lips soft, his mouth tasting of a hint of split pea soup. He put his nose in the hair just behind her left ear and took a deep breath.  The feeling of the tip of his nose on her skin was electric.  It had been so long—years—since she had felt a man’s touch.  And that had been back at school, before the trial, chastely clumsy kisses in cloakrooms and in stuffy parlors. 

“’You smell so good,” he said, and kissed her again. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”  He lifted a finger and gently slid it from her chin to the top of her collar.  Melanie quivered.  She was afraid to make a move. She was awash with pleasure such as she had never known. She knew what she was supposed to do.  Melt against him (that was the alternative to slapping his face), but she couldn’t.  Her hands hung uselessly at her sides.

“James, you shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered.

 “I know.  I can’t help myself.”  He kissed her again, a long, slow, lingering kiss.

 “Please—please stop.”  Her words came out as a little gasp.  She didn’t want him to stop. 

 James took a step back, smiling, holding her arms.  “You are a peach of a girl, Miss Daniels.”
  
 “Thank you.”  Melanie averted her face.  “I don’t know what you must think of me.”  She wanted him to kiss her again!  And again and again.

His left hand ran up and down her upper arm.  She felt as if little shivers of desire were following along with it.  “I think very highly of you.  That’s why I kissed you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’d like to see you again, Miss Daniels.  Soon.”  The hand closed around her upper arm.

It was an outrageous request.  He had taken liberties with her.

“I’d like that.”

***************************************************************************************************************

When she was eight years old, one bright late Spring day, Harold Clarice, a classmate, had come up to her in  the schoolyard.  He had an ugly smile on his face. 

“My ma says your pa kills babies,” he announced
.
“Harold Clarice, you take that back!” Melanie demanded.

“Your pa’s a baby-killer,” Harold repeated.

“You clam yourself!”  She felt her face burning hotly.

“Baby killer!  Baby killer!”

“You just clam yourself!”

In a rage, Melanie lashed out at Harold, smacking him in the mouth.  Harold stared at her in shock for an instant, then leapt upon her, flailing with his fists, and they both fell to the ground, biting and punching.  Instantly the other children were around them, screaming delightedly, “Fight!  Fight! Fight!”

“What’s going on here!  Children!”  Miss Chipman, their teacher, stood over them.  Melanie quickly disengaged herself from Harold.  Her white dress was torn, its pink sash hanging in tatters.  Her blonde hair had been pulled from its ponytail and hung loosely at her shoulders.  Harold’s shirtfront was covered with dirt, and blood ran down his chin.  Their classmates hung back, fascinated. 

“She started it!”

“Did not!” 

“Did too!”

 Melanie knew Harold dared not repeat his taunt; he would be punished for using such language. 
Either the other children hadn’t heard him, or didn’t risk saying it themselves.  Miss Chipman made both Harold and Melanie sit in opposite corners facing the wall for the rest of the afternoon.  Melanie was grateful that her teacher didn’t inquire further into what had started the fight.  She had a feeling that Miss Chipman knew.
And there you have it, mon chers.



At the risk of bragging, here are some Amazon reviews.  If you don't believe me, go here.

"Don't start reading this wonderful tale if you have anything else to do for a while. It will grab you and keep you enthralled."


"If you liked An Awfully Big Adventure and/or Tipping the Velvet, definitely give this one a shot!" 

"The author's evocation of that time period, the abundant showbiz details, and the personal politics of abortion all made it very rich."

Do both of us a favor and pick up my book at Amazon.  Oops.  Seeing that it's on Kindle, do download my book.  You'll thank me later, and I will thank you now.

Ciao,


Elisa & Fletcher

Wednesday, June 06, 2012

Vintage Clothing and Sex: I Have Written A Novel

DAHLINGS –

You probably do not believe that your faithful correspondent is capable of Deep Thoughts.  (Indeed, some have expressed that in this blog-thing quite loudly).  However, 2011 and 2012 have found me with much on my mind.  Which gives me terrible headaches.

My darling readers have probably been wondering, "What is that fabulous woman doing, that she is not here tending to our fashion and plus-size needs?  Where is she when we need famous people dressing up criticized?"

You may gasp in disbelief, but I have written a novel, "The Abortionist’s Daughter.” Your faithful scrivener was tempted to say that it was written by someone else, but one has to stand by one's principles (and admit that one is a truly amazing writer, as you all know). 

As was said by another, "She who doth not toot her own horn, her horn shall not be tooted." And of course I want my horn tooted.



As you can probably tell from my interests, the descriptions of the clothes are luscious, written by an author with an understanding of Fashion In The True Sense.   Silks, satins, drool-worthy beribboned hats, robes with crystal pleating, cotton voile dresses.  From my own experience as an actress,(something my dear darling Mama did her best to forget), the backstage scenes, populated with delightful characters, have been called "wonderfully entertaining."

Ziegfeld Follies star Dolores, by Geisler
The novel's backstory is: in 1910, Dr. Horace Daniels is sent to prison for accidentally killing a woman while aborting her fourteenth child.  Women had no access to birth control or knowledge about their own bodies.  The only contraception for women was refusing to have relations.  It almost reads like a harbinger of today’s sexual politics and the steady stripping of the rights of women. 

Medical technology has advanced light years, but the morality and small-mindedness of many have not.

Six years later, his rebellious daughter, Melanie was once the most eligible girl in the tiny Adirondack village.  At 23 she faces the prospect of being an “old maid” and spending the rest of her life living with her disgraced parents. The alternative is marrying a younger boy who is infatuated with her. 

In 1916, the notion that a woman could be independent was nearly unthinkable.  When she meets James, a traveling salesman, she allows him to seduce her.  (The scenes were a little graphic to write, but well, modern times and all that. Besides, I discovered the joys of writing smut.) Melanie agrees to run away with him to New York.

Once in New York, Melanie finds that James has other lovers, including a Broadway star, Gladys Dumbrille.  James is not at all what he seems, in fact he is a great deal worse.  Melanie is drawn into a web of intrigue and lies.  She herself lies to get into a show,”Almonds for Clarissa,” that Gladys is in.  The world of the theater is glorious to Melanie, although most of the glamour is onstage.  She becomes a “dress extra,” the term for actresses who wear their own clothes. Melanie befriends Mercedes La Fay (real name: Betty Ogden), a lively chorus girl who “shows her the ropes."

Ann Pennington, dancer
However, no matter what Melanie does or where she goes, she cannot escape her past as the doctor’s daughter.  The tale is filled with tough choices, the personal politics of abortion, and yours truly paints a vivid portrait of the era.  

Always wanting to present my very best for you, I researched this tome at the New-York Historical Society, the Adirondack Museum, and of course my own fashion archives.

It has received wonderful reviews on Amazon, where it is available for sale on Kindle.

You can buy the novel here: The Abortionist's Daughter by Elisa DeCarlo

Ciao,
Elisa & Fletcher

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

House Review: 8x22: "Everybody Dies" House Sees Dead People. Again.

DAHLINGS –

WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS REVIEW IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE FINALE!  I TAKE NO RESPONSIBILITY FOR SUBSEQUENT REACTIONS.

For once, I shall begin at the end rather than the beginning. As we all know, "Everybody Dies" is the series finale.

For the sake of spending Wilson’s last months together, House fakes his own demise.  He pretends to burn to death, there is a funeral, Wilson gets a text.  He finds House grinning, sitting on a stoop.  After being yawped at endlessly about how selfish and self-centered House is, House makes the grand gesture of  sacrificing everything for Wilson.

 This begs the question: what on earth was the point of the episode?  If House has already planned his own death, down to switching dental records with his patient, who lies dead next to him in the warehouse, why is he visited by the Ghosts of Costars Past?  I mean, it’s nice to see Anne Dudek, Kal Penn, Sela Ward and Jennifer Morrison again. If only they had something more interesting to do.

So, House wakes up from shooting heroin, and is trapped in a burning warehouse.  Why is this warehouse burning?  It’s never explained, so it drops into the vast yawning pit of Baffling Events and Disappearing Characters and Plot Holes.  Again, if he’s planned to fake his own death, what’s with the ghosts and hallucinations? Why on earth did he shoot heroin?  Don't give me that addict kerfuffle.  Surely he's done it before. He's taken everything before.

 Each “ghost” shows up to lecture House about himself…pardon me for putting it this way, but HOW COME THIS SHOW CAN’T MAKE A POINT WITHOUT HALLUCINATIONS?  This fall-back device is annoying.  And tired.  And ultimately boring, once you get over the pleasure of seeing the old faces again.  The same old arguments, written the same old ways. Written and directed by show creator David Shore, it’s not up to the amazing “No Reason” and not as abysmal as “Two Stories.” Pointless mediocrity is what we have after a listless final season.  It’s easy to see why the show has been cancelled.

 What’s missing from these characters is any sense of humor.  Each “ghost” solemnly lectures House about his life, his choices, fill in the blanks. Kutner is first, (Kal Penn), who asks him who the dead guy is.

"It's James LeGros. He was the POTW for about, oh, five minutes."
 House exposits:

POTW is a heroin addict who likes being an addict (ANVIL ALERT).  He has agreed to help House (although we’re not sure how) get out of jail. Through dialogue with Kutner, the exposition continues: House is trying to avoid jail to stay with Wilson for the remaining time.  Kutner talks about a “plan” and asks, “why are you sitting here on the floor with the suicidal guy?”

 I’d heard it all before and I knew it was a hallucination and House wasn’t dead.  Amber (Anne Dudek) shows up to take over the exposition.  She speaks in a spaced-out monotone, which fits the dialogue.

Amber is there the longest, and given the lamest dialogue, mostly standing around solemnly intoning…whatever.  Your faithful correspondent doesn’t give a damn.   Stacy, House’s great love in Seasons 1 and 2 (Sela Ward) is there to show him the life he never had, handing him a baby with matching big blue eyes.  Excuse me?  House has never shown more than a faint interest in settling down.  Yes, he bonded with Rachel Cuddy, but has she ever been mentioned again?  He looks into a suburban living room , where he is canoodling with...Dominika? 

Speaking of which, where was Cuddy during the Greatest Hits parade?

Then, finally, drama!  House crashes through a collapsing floor!  He’s trapped!  As he lies on the floor, surrounded by flames, Cameron (Jennifer Morrison) appears, urging House to die.  That he’s done everything he can, he deserves to end it.  It is such a pleasure to see her onscreen again.


 However, she joins him in the hospital with the POTW, and in a baffling turnaround, tells him he’s a “coward” for choosing suicide. Meanwhile, Foreman and Wilson have been searching everywhere.  They go to—Nolan’s office!  WTF?  Yes, it’s nice to see Andre Braugher, but--Nolan wouldn’t let House out of Mayfield unless he got clean.  And now he’s okay with House being on Vicodin?  This makes even less sense than everything else! Oh well, Nolan does fine with his three sentences.

House is alone.  “I can change,” he mutters.  But he can’t get out!  Foreman and Wilson reach the warehouse just in time to see House through the flames.  Then a burning beam comes down and the whole place explodes.


"Oh, fuck me."

A body bag is removed, the dental records match.Your faithful correspondent was upset but all right with House being dead.  If someone was going to die, it is fitting that it should be House. 

Foreman breaks the news to Wilson


A funeral is held.  House's ashes are in an urn.  I will forego the obvious joke.  Charlene Yi kicks off the festivities, Blythe (House's mother) gets a line, Chase gets a line, Amber Tamblyn shows up, everybody gets a line. It’s all actually quite poignant.

Then Wilson gets up.  He starts a eulogy, but then loses it completely, calling House “an ass” for failing Wilson the one time truly needed him.  A cell phone keeps ringing during Wilson’s sort-of eulogy.  It’s in his pocket, but it’s not his phone.  He opens it and sees a text: SHUT UP YOU IDIOT.

Cut to a car pulling up.  Wilson gets out, to find House waiting for him.  Turns out, as I said at the top, House faked his own death.  He has given up his career, his identity, in short, sacrificed everything to be with Wilson.  Now tell me that isn’t true love.

"PSYCH!"

The ending montage shows the cast (Taub has both mothers and both babies, excuse me?) carrying on in the wake of House's "death."  The best moment is when it is revealed that Chase is the new head of diagnostic medicine.  The second best moment is when Foreman finds House’s ID card wedged under a wobbly table, and realizes what has actually happened. So, everybody dies, but they don't.  Just that poor bastard junkie.

At the very end, we see House and Wilson on motorcycles, strapping on their gear.  “House, when my cancer gets bad—“

House gives him perhaps the happiest smile we’ve seen in eight years.  “Cancer is boring.”  With that, they ride off into the sunset, to the strains of Louis Prima singing "Enjoy Yourself," a truly bittersweet choice.  And a perfect ending.

"Wilson, you look so gay.  Thank God."

Farewell, House.  For better or worse, we shall not see your like again.

Random:

Your faithful scrivener has not watched “Swan Song” yet, so my opinions will be saved for another time.

It is a shame that this episode followed the “Reichenbach Falls” on “Sherlock”.  Bad timing.

Does anyone else find it sad that Chase’s team is now Park and Adams?

Wilson sitting with a blanket over him the morning after the fire broke my heart.

"Enjoy Yourself" was sung by Amber in a great creepy way when she was a hallucination in Season Five.

I love Sela Ward.  Stacy was the only one who called him “Greg” and gave as good as she got.

I missed Lisa Edelstein.

Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

House Review: 8x21, "Holding On"

DAHLINGS –

My dears, what with watching ‘Holding On’ Monday night and again yesterday afternoon, there is a mountain of soiled silk handkerchiefs in the wastebasket.  Yes, the wastebasket.  They’re ruined during a good cry.  A small group of nuns embroider them until they go blind, fortunately, there are always new nuns.  In that country, any way.

The POTW of the week is a 19-year-old cheerleader played by a 30-year-old actor with the charisma of an armchair.  According to the promo monkeys, there was a SHOCKING SECRET about the patient.  Cheerleader Biff hears his long-dead brother’s voice in his head. Oh. He might be schizophrenic, but probably not. Shocking.  What makes this even more boring is that the team is now Taub, Park and Adams.



In any event, his mother, the Worst Mother Ever, had destroyed all of the pictures of the boy and his name, Christopher, was never mentioned again. However, Cheerleader Biff has secretly kept a picture of his brother.

The actual plot is that Wilson’s cancer is inoperable, and he has decided not to go the chemo route, but live the five months he has left to the fullest.  House of course cannot deal with this.  So he argues; he drugs Wilson with Propofol (the drug that killed Michael Jackson) so that Wilson can experience “death”; he fills the cafeteria with actors to play Wilson’s surviving patients. We know it is a scam the instant House introduces "Mikey."  Another phony adolescent? Wouldn't Wilson have recognized them? Why not a simple conversation about how many lives Wilson has saved? They always do that to justify whatever House is up to.

( Note: There is a special circle in hell reserved for the person who invented the “one person starts clapping, then another, and soon everyone is clapping”.) 

Meanwhile, Foreman has gotten House season tickets to the hockey games, “one month after Wilson’s expiration date.”  It’s no surprise that House tears them up and stuffs them down Foreman’s toilet.  What happens later is a surprise, but not the well-written, interesting kind.

Wilson has called Thirteen, who has gone blonde, for advice on how to cope.  She naturally assumes he’s going for chemo, but when he says he isn’t, she’s all like, “Okay.” This despite the fact she’s been doing everything she can to keep her Huntington’s from progressing.  Then she visits House, who’s staring gloomily at a bald patient in the chemo unit, and tells him…to be honest, I forget. The chemo suites I’ve visited are filled with bored people, most with hair, reading magazines.



Once again, the scenes between Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard are poor gold. 

House takes Wilson out for a quiet dinner, where they reminisce, chuckling. (SOILED HANDKERCHIEF ALERT!) It struck me that this type of scene has heretofore always been shown silently. As they reminisce, Wilson starts to rethink his decision.  “Don’t do this to me, Wilson,” House says quietly.  But Wilson is certain that House is conning him so Wilson can be there longer for House.  Once again, it’s about what House needs.  Wilson stands up: “I don’t owe you anything. Our entire relationship has been about you. My dying is about me."


Wilson storms out, and breaks down crying in his car.  (SO many handkerchiefs, so beautifully played.)  Of course House follows him, and Wilson cries harder.
House: You don't have to just accept this.
Wilson: Yes, I do have to accept this. I have five months to live and you're making me go through this ALONE! [Wilson starts crying again]. I'm pissed because I'm dying and it's not fair. And I need to know that you're there. I need you to tell me that my life was worthwhile and...I need you to tell me that you love me.

Naturally, House says no.  "Not unless you fight." 

Some fans have been deeply offended by the characters acting so out of character. In some ways House hasn’t changed.  He’s still trying to get his way, trying to get what he needs and putting himself first.

Foreman lays down the law to Wilson.  When Wilson says, “I’m not responsible for House’s happiness,” Foreman responds that he is.  And that Wilson has had three broken marriages, hundreds of colleagues, thousands of patients, and the only person who has lasted is House. Foreman: "Enduring pain to do some good for someone you care about. Isn't that what life is?"  I beg your pardon?  Does that even mean anything?  What sort of home lives do the writers have?

During an earlier scene, the bathroom door is opened and we see the sinks overflowing and two frantic janitors.  Did House stuff hockey tickets down every toilet in the hospital? 

The Worst Mother Ever shows up at her son’s room.  But once she hears the name “Christopher” her eyes bug out and she runs.  She really is the Worst Mother Ever.

Cheerleader Biff gets an MRI scan.  When Adams and Park slide him out, as Greg Yaitaines would say, KA-BOOM!  A wall of water descends on them, breaking the ceiling and ruining the MRI. 

The most amazingly symmetrical ceiling collapse ever.

House shows up at the ER, leads the team into Cheerleader Biff’s room, and insta-diagnoses him with some sort of artery thing in his ear.  Take it out, all of his symptoms will clear up.  And he’ll stop hearing his brother’s voice. (ANVIL ALERT)!
Taub tells House he’s being an ass to Wilson.  House loses it and shouts that life is pain, he gets up in pain, he goes to work in pain, he’s considered suicide more times than he can count.

Then House finds out that Cheerleader Biff drank ammonia because he didn’t want to lose his brother’s voice.  (ANVIL ALERT)


Enraged, House runs into CB’s room and proceeds to strangle him, yelling about wanting to live and wanting to die.  Park clocks him with his own cane, and shrieks that sometimes the truth sucks. (ANVILS, SO MANY ANVILS! RUN!)

The Worst Mother Ever has taken Christopher’s photograph, but agrees to give it back if Cheerleader Biff has the surgery.  He accepts fate and loss and all that (ANVIL ALERT) and has the surgery.  But! Amazingly enough!  The Worst Mother Ever takes out a bunch of photos from his childhood.  He starts to cry but doesn’t, while she gives him a bug-eyed smile.  Seriously, this woman is frightening.  I think she wanted her son strangled so she could burn all of his pictures and forget about him, too.


Meanwhile House sits alone and plays the piano, which we have been waiting for all season.  Wilson eats dinner alone.  When he goes to get a bottle of wine, he sees a pack of Oreos.
Wilson turns up on House’s doorstep.  "I'm ready to start the next round of chemo?"
"Why?"
"Because you need me. And I don't think that's a bad thing anymore."
"No. You're the only one I listen to. And when I stopped, I almost killed my patient.” House says Wilson is smarter than him. He's not okay that there are only five months left, but it's better than nothing. House says he won't tell Wilson he loves him, which Wilson seems pleased about.  Yours truly was disappointed.
Then, of course, the script goes south.  House and Wilson are happily planning a hiking trip, when Foreman enters with the hospital lawyer.  Seems House practically destroyed the hospital by stuffing the tickets down Foreman’s toilet.  Really?  Really?  The plumbers at PPTH are worse than security.  The tickets have House’s name and fingerprints (??) on them.  So House’s parole is revoked.  He’s going back to prison for—wait for it—six months.  When he gets out, Wilson will be dead.


Sucks to be House.  Sucks to be Wilson.  Sucks to be a fan, because next week is the final episode. It's called "Everybody Dies."

Random:
Why didn’t Taub and Adams think the picture was child porn?
Why is “misery” the catchall word for any kind of unhappiness?  Don’t the writers have a thesaurus?
Thirteen looks very good as a blonde.
If Wilson dies and House accepts it with serenity, your faithful correspondent is going to have to choke a bitch.

Ciao, Elisa & Fletcher

Wednesday, May 09, 2012

House Review: 8x20 "Post-Mortem" or, Ferris Wilson's Day Off

DAHLINGS -

Let me get one thing out of the way: I adore House and Wilson, in case you haven’t already noticed. Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard are perfectly in sync for this ending arc. This viewer is riveted every moment they are on screen.

Now, if only the writing would follow suit.

Once again, the POTW is interesting.  Peter Weller, who directed, appears briefly in the opening scene to call time of death on a young woman.  The body is taken to the morgue, where Dr. Biff, who has OCD if his chart is anything to go by, proceeds with an autopsy while bitching about the doctor who did the surgery.  And then tries to cut open his own brain.  Cue opening credits.

 The best moment in the show.  In the opening.

Meanwhile, Wilson has decided to take a road trip. He buys a $75,000 red car.  (Where’s Doris Egan when you need her?)  Out of the blue, his PET scan will reveal whether or not he lives or dies.  What?  Pardon me? Did they skip five years into the future?  Please, someone explain this.  Continuity is an unknown concept in the House writing room, but did anyone even READ last week’s script?

Last week, Wilson had thymoma, which could be treated with radiation, chemo, and surgery.  He went for Super-Chemo, even though he had a 75% chance of survival with traditional treatment.  Now it’s fatal?

So Wilson goes the tried-and-true bucket list route He drags House along, with Wilson calling himself “Kyle Calloway.”  Wilson is determined to “embrace the shallow.” Which we know will last for halfway through the show.  House and Wilson go to a dive where Wilson gags down an 80 oz. steak and throws it up again.  House arranges a threesome with hookers for Wilson, after having convinced him to go to hair and makeup to have a bald cap applied to make him look more like a dying cancer victim.  Good times.

 Your obedient scrivener feels the way RSL apparently did:

Tweet from Kath Lingenfelter:  Oh man, RSL was not happy with us on this gag.
Oh, Robert, you sold your soul for a mess of pottage.

Someone also explain why the female writers on this show go along with the appalling female stereotypes the show has been trafficking in the past two seasons.  Are they actually men with false names?   Do they have a secret right-wing agenda that all women are good for is sex and…sex?  Are they all former hookers, hoping to bring their deep life experience to the screen?

Does anyone remember the earlier seasons when Wilson was a suave ladies man?  A philanderer?  A “panty peeler”?  They neutered him some time ago, but really.  This is too much.   

Inevitably it all goes wrong.  Wilson sees a funeral procession (ANVIL ALERT), races his car past it, and crashes through a fence and wrecks the car.  What is it with this show and car crashes?  At least no cows were injured during the filming.  Wilson’s wallet is stolen by one of the hookers.  They end up at a bus stop, where Kyle Calloway runs screaming from this script and James Wilson returns. 

There is an old lady with Alzheimer’s at the bus stop, and Wilson is determined to stay with her until the cops arrive.  House and Wilson ride a bus back home.  Wilson talks about a traumatic senior year incident that left him scarred (a girl dumped him for--wait for it--Kyle Calloway).  One can hardly believe he got married three times after that shattering incident.  

Once again, Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard give the script far more than it deserves. Wilson is terrified to return to the hospital and find out his fate.House says, “I could live without Kyle Calloway,” making it more than clear that he can’t live without Wilson.  A tear slipped down my perfectly pink cheek. 

Meanwhile, back to the POTW.  He applied for the slot in House’s team that Chase got and thinks Chase has wasted his life.  Again, what?  Chase has helped save hundreds of lives, killed an evil African dictator, got Epiphany Face last week.  What more do you want, Dr Biff? 

Since House isn’t around, they again swap around the script so Chase can do all of the standard House misdiagnoses and stand up against the rest of the team and Foreman to do what’s right.  In one shot he’s leaning over a morgue table staring downward, in a pose so House-like it’s ludicrous.  “We’re missing something,” he keeps saying.  He even gets his own whiteboard.  Then—Epiphany Face!  There’s a quick explanation that Dr. Biff’s OCD causes him to use way too much hospital soap.  Combined with energy drinks, he went crazy, etc. etc.  There, there, it makes no sense to me either.

Now that he’s learned his own version of Epiphany Face, Chase is ready to move on from PPTH.  Foreman can’t persuade him to stay, so they have an awkward hug.  Chase goes to where House is staring at Wilson’s PET scan, they exchange perfunctory goodbyes, and Chase says, “Let me know how Wilson is.” And leaves.  One more time: WHAT?  Chase has known Wilson for eight years and he walks out?

 I've got a new series to star in, "Chicago Fire." Later.

After Chase leaves, House sees something on the PET scan. From House’s expression, we know it is BAD NEWS.

Your faithful correspondent’s best guess is that Chase will return to operate on Wilson, since Dr. Biff said, “Statistically, you’re the best surgeon in this hospital.”

Again, what?

Random:

Jesse Spencer does a superb job.  He plays the change in Chase from fellow to leader subtly.  However, it leaves almost as big a hole in the cast as Cuddy. When the three remaining fellows are together, they look oddly pathetic.

Speaking of the three remaining fellows, it was such a pleasure to barely see Adams and Park.  Whatever happened to Taub’s babies? No, wait, I don’t want to know.

Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher



Thursday, May 03, 2012

House Review: 8x19, "The C-Word"

DAHLINGS –
 
For the last few days yours truly has been insanely busy.  And I know how many of my beloved readers hunger for my reviews.  My Twitter feed has been filled with moans of "When, when?" Here you are, darling hearts.  Although I’m not sure what "The C-Word" stood for besides Cancer.  Caring?  Columbia?  Concord Grapes?  It was directed by the show's star, Hugh Laurie.
 
As I mentioned in my previous review, it's rather annoying that the show is pulling out this manipulative melodramatic twist for the last few episodes, but better late than never.  This was a complex episode despite some major flaws.  And by far the best this season.  
 
The heart of the show has always been the relationship of House and Wilson.  They have drugged each other, stolen from each other, lied to each other about matters great and small.  And yet the friendship continues.  (One might consider them two halves that make a whole. Or not.)  The regrettable loss of Cuddy has made the House/Wilson dynamic even more central.  This is why the show has been so difficult to watch it this season being tossed to one side in favor of outlandish plots and insipid characters.  Matters have not been helped by Robert Sean Leonard’s uninterested acting and Hugh Laurie’s phoning it in.
 
However, both actors brought their A-game, particularly Robert Sean Leonard.  This was a stellar performance, revealing more of Wilson than we have seen in eight seasons.  The darkness and anger that has been glimpsed sporadically in the past comes front and center.  Both House and Wilson suffer from an inner darkness that they medicate in different ways.  House is an antisocial drug addict; Wilson hides himself behind a cheerful shiny surface. As we discovered at the end of last week, Wilson has cancer, Stage Two thymoma. At the latest doctor’s office, House says, “How many times have I told you I wanted to be alone and you’ve made yourself a pain in the ass?  I owe you.” 
 
Unfortunately, the POTW plot is a straight rehash of “Finding Judas”.  Sick child of feuding divorced parents is put on a carnival ride by the father.  Disaster ensues.  Emily, the daughter, is either cute or crying “Ow, ow, ow!” She has a genetic illness, and her mother (Jessica Collins) is a humorless geneticist specializing in same.  It’s never clear what the father does, but he’s a lot more fun. Chris L. McKenna portrays the confused, loving father, creating a fully rounded character from sketchy material. For some insane reason, Foreman wants Dr. Mom to head the team.  Once again, disaster ensues.
 
Dangerous experimental drugs have been a go-to plot device last season and this season.  Last year House mainlined a drug that caused tumors in his leg.  This time the child is used as a lab rat by her mother, giving her daughter a drug that has not yet received FDA approval.   Joint custody is so not a good idea.

"Mommy's sorry for almost killing you, sweetie.  She'll be more careful next time."

Emily’s illness, as it turns out, is not caused by genetics but from a tumor in her heart.  House has been working with the cases less and less this season, so it’s Chase who gets to have Epiphany Face and solve the puzzle.  One suspects that the show is setting up Chase to be the team leader as the series ends.
 
And, of course, the main plot: Wilson is determined to use an extreme form of chemotherapy to blast his cancer.  It is literally life or death.  The inherent unbelievability of this plan is given what writers call “explainers,” those sentences that explain why a course of action is being taken that would otherwise make the viewer go, “Huh?”  It is clear that Wilson has an excellent chance of survival with traditional therapy (thymoma is almost never fatal).  The “explains,” if you will, are brought to the table when Wilson refuses to die in a hospital.  Then he produces a series of objects from patients who died unexpectedly of cancers with high survival rates.  House objects, but Wilson is determined to go through with it.   What else can House say but, “we’ll do it at my place”?
 
Once the medical equipment is in place, House raises a toast “to stupidity.” Before Wilson can agree, House goes on to give a blood-curdling description of what Wilson can expect. “Agony isn't a word or a concept. It's your only reality.”  He then asks, quite reasonably, “What are we doing here, Wilson?” Indeed, what are they doing there?  Wilson looks determined.  This is another moment that outlines how rickety the conceit is, but Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard sell it as well as they can. 
 
 It’s only a matter of time before Wilson is a grey-faced, vomiting mess.  Director Laurie chooses to shoot many of these scenes in tight close-up, letting us see into their emotional lives, particularly House.  House is tender with his sick friend, even with all of the snarky jokes he uses to cope.  He holds Wilson’s head when he throws up into an emesis basin, then wipes his mouth expertly and goes on to the next task.  This kind of care is exhausting, round-the-clock work.  The realism with which this is shown makes these scenes hard to sit through.  (Kudos to the makeup people.  Wilson’s pallor and cracked lips are heart-rending.)
 
House never touches anyone or lets them touch him, with exception of the women he’s been involved with.  With Wilson, the boundaries are dropped.
 

House giving the last of his Vicodin to Wilson.  

A million fangirls scream around the world

But then, crazed with pain and illness, Wilson lashes out at the unfairness of getting cancer, and spews out venomous truth at House.  House sits, hurt, and silent.
House is usually silent when the people he cares about rage at him.  If anyone has any thoughts about this, please post them in the comments.
 
There is an unfortunate cut at the end of this scene to cute Emily, asking, “If I die, will my parents get back together?” (Your faithful scrivener burst out laughing.)   
 
The parents reconcile and Wilson survives the treatment.  There is a reference to three days having passed.  Three days?  Three days?  The child had the usual dozen wrong diagnoses, then major surgery in only three days?  Wilson went through all of that in three days?  You might argue it’s “television time,” but the script itself says three days. Even though Emily is still going to die an early death, she’s okay with it and her parents reconcile.
 
Wilson apologizes for his splenetic remarks, then asks for one last thing: to make it to the bathroom.  House hauls him up and half-carries Wilson to the bathroom.  Wilson notices that House is in extreme pain and asks if how he felt is how House feels all the time.  House gives an answering grunt.  “It really does suck being you, doesn’t it?” Wilson observes.  “At least I don’t have cancer,” is the response.


However you choose to view their friendship, it is indeed true love.  It would have been perfect had the episode ended there.  Instead, House and Wilson return to work.  Wilson finds an open laptop on his desk, hits a button.  Journey blasts out, accompanied by a photo montage of House and two hookers clowning with an unconscious Wilson ala “Weekend At Bernie’s.” Your mileage may vary, but it was a cheap, jarring end to an otherwise excellent episode.

 
"When did I get the time, money and energy to do this? When my Vicodin's all used up? Ah, screw it.  Par-TAY!"

What did you think about the ending montage?  Feel free to discuss in the comments.
 
Random:
 
Why on earth did they do it in House's living room and not the bedroom?
 
Apparently Emily's parents have been raging at each other for years.  One wonders how long the detente will last once their daughter is back to dying on schedule.
 
What is with the cinematography this season?  Half of the show was almost pitch black.

Anything you'd like to say in the comments?  Just bear in mind that I am always right.