I wish Jack Bauer would come back and bitchslap Jack, Sawyer, Kate, Locke and every other character on Lost.

‘Cuz seriously. If he did, he’d totally fuck them up, not give a shit about any ghost-like-man-thing named Jacob, pistol whip Ben until his face is more red than skin-toned, and then go have a beer.

Last night’s conclusion to the trite, overdone, and painfully…well, painful season 4 left me feeling like a deer in headlights.  “Are they serious right now?” I asked myself. “Is this a trick?”

Locke. Duh.  OF COURSE IT WAS LOCKE.  I’ve been telling people for A FRIGGIN YEAR that it was Locke. Whatever. Amongst my posse of four, I said I wished the Cloverfield monster came to eat everyone on the island, freighter people and all. Then after another 30 minutes, I said it again.

How did Lost get so far away from the point? What is it even about anymore!?!? I don’t have a REMOTE clue. Nor do I care anymore.

And that’s just sad.

To say anymore would just prove that Lost is STILL sucking the life out of my time, and the time out of my life.  See ya next year, Lost.

pause.

NOT.

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