So the fabulous Breaking Bad is back and badder than ever! Episode 2 opens with a sad looking German dude sampling tater tot dipping sauces – I don’t know about him, but if that was my job I’d put a fucking smile on my face. Anyway, we discover that this man, is some super important business owner guy who, guess what? Owns Pollos Hermanos. The DEA were able to trace the whole big meth operation back to this tater tot eating German guy using the scribble scratch on the picture frame from episode 1 and they want answers! Too bad Herr Tator Tot decides to off himself by grabbing the nearest unattended defibrillator and giving himself the big deep fry.
You’re wondering where I’ve been and all I can say to you is that I’ve been busy. I could fill you in on all the gory details of the past year but thats not why you clicked this post. You’re reading this because you’re like me and you’ve at last been released from television pergatory to only be welcomed into the kingdom of our savior Walter White.
It was noon on the 4th of July. The sun hung high in the sky as I ran down the winding mountainside. My formerly spastic running had been replaced by something more steady; my breath was deep and even, my stride was fast and long, and the city pavement and skyline had been replaced by a pothole ridden mountain road canopied by hundred year woods. It was beautiful, and something that helped me clear my mind. Two miles down, two miles up. As I rounded the final bend down the mountain I saw the bottom of the ski slope I’d just run down,
“This is going to be a bitch back up,” I said to myself, out of breath.