The Portal to Doom is in My Living Room

Hi Darling Ones,

During the uprisings in the summer of 2020, Sister #2 made a game of asking people if they’d loot big box stores if given the opportunity. If you answered yes, she’d ask you what you’d loot.

It was a pretty fun game in a very dire time.

When I gave my answer she blinked at me in silence for a minute. “That is the most off-brand, uncharacteristic answer,” she said. “I would have never guessed that. You don’t even like watching TV!”

I contain multitudes, Darling Ones. My answer to the looting opportunity was a giant, fucking TV. At least that was my answer in the summer of 2020. Now that I am the owner of a giant, fucking TV I kind of want to take it all back.

Last week I became the not-quite-proud owner of a 58″ Portal of Doom that now sits in the middle of my living room waiting to suck the soul right out of your body. Or open the hellmouth. I’m not entirely sure. For sure if I had a daughter named Carol Ann she’d have been slurped right into this big black rectangle to the netherworld.

I had very good reasons for wanting a giant, fucking TV.

  1. My eyes are old and tired and I can’t read anything on my old postage stamp TV.
  2. I’m a literal 6’5″ giant and having to bend my neck to look out the tops of my progressives at the TV was a literal pain in the neck.

Okay, I had two good reasons.

My end goal here is to mount the Portal of Doom onto the wall, and then bring my record player and records into the living room to take up residence where the Portal is now.

I’m getting a mount for Christmas (thanks, Mom) and my brother-in-law gets to spend Christmas night mounting the Portal to the wall. It’s my gift to him. He likes to be helpful!

My problem is I have no concept of scale or size. I’m a giant, remember? My perception of size is skewed. Whenever I have to buy clothes for or make something (blanket, hat, sweater) for a normal-sized human I’m all, “Is this a sweater for ants?”

Also, I’m a little convinced I’m getting taller because it feels like I can see more of the top of my refrigerator than I could before. This has nothing to do with the Portal of Doom.

So I have a giant, fucking TV. I love it when I am actively watching. It’s enormous and I can read all the things without strain. I only have to bend my neck a little when it’s on.

I hate it all the other times (which is most of the day). It’s a giant black hole in the middle of my living room.

I’m hoping I’ll love it more once it’s on the wall and there’s a bunch of distracting shit underneath it. This story is still developing and we will update you as new information comes in.

In other news, I’ve been watching a ton of TV on the Portal. I decided, late in the game, to make Christmas hats for the fam (four down, five to go) and thus logging ridiculous hours with the Portal.

I watched “Wednesday” on Netflix because I’ve loved the Addams family since I was a kid. When I was a wee lass I though the most beautiful women on the planet were, in no particular order: Endora from “Beweitched,” Mortia Addams, and Wilona from “Good Times.”

I liked “Wednesday” enough that I’ll watch it again to catch everything I missed with my bad-at-tv attention span. I also watched “Snack vs. Chef” on Netflix and it was only okay.

The doom is coming from inside the house,

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