I fucking love the X-Files. That TV show was my friend through thick and thin. I can definitely relate to that show more than most people will ever even relate to their kids. Some of the spiritual, metaphysical and unexplained things that happened in that TV show have happened to me and I must thank Chris Carter and all involved in that show because if it was not for some of those episodes I might have ended up in a loony bin for a long time. Hell if it was happening to Mulder and Scully then I knew everything was going to be ok and that I was not crazy.
Now that another movie is coming out I am definitely beyond stoked. I will actually hit up the premiere in Seattle when it happens and I never, never, never goto the movie theater. I cannot stand 95 percent of new films made today. I would rather watch Casablanca about a million times before I see the latest George Clooney bomb.
Anyway this blog is not really about the X-Files, even though I am watching my favorite season on DVD as I write this (6) and Gillian Anderson and I have the same birthday (August 9th) which I always thought was pretty damn deep. I also never ever saw the last ever episode that ended season 9. I just obviously did not want it to end and could not even watch that last episode, but before the movie comes out I will definitely buy season 9 and watch the last ever televised new X-Files episode that played on Fox TV.
But like I said before this blog was not suppose to be about the X-Files. This blog was about getting something off my chest. Since it has been published I realized that I did not want to insult the person I was talking about. So since it has probably been read by the person I wanted to read it, I am taking the last half of this blog down. Lets leave it to Mulder and Scully to investigate the mess we made out of our lives.
Blessed be your soul on the planet.