You Know What I Love? Television.

If there’s one dream I have, one that fills my mind night in, night out, it’s the dream in which I get paid for watching television. I don’t want to be paid to review television, for E! Online or Entertainment Weekly, because that would mean that I would actually have to be critical of shows that come to me, every week, delivering hours upon hours of free, completely engrossing entertainment. I have no interest in nit-picking the details or plot holes of Jack Bauer’s felony-fueled attempts to do the right thing. I just want to watch him break the law, again and again, knowing that he’ll bring those terrorists down by the end of one very long day.

All I want is to be paid for sitting in front of the television, enjoying my shows. Because isn’t that what everyone tells you – “do what you love?” I love watching television. Now I want to get paid for it.

Instead of being paid every hour, I’d be paid every commercial break, which may actually force me to watch televised sports. Things that I would eat and drink would come directly from the television ads, so that I would be able to identify and comment. “Yes, the new chicken wings at TGI Friday’s really are out of this world!” I’d say, my gut growing ever expansively.

People have said that television is on the upswing this year because more shows that have scripts are popular again. But I say: who cares? Sure, there are some crackerjack new shows this season but that’s not like I wouldn’t watch it. Instead of being wowed that “The Apprentice” took a new turn with its Street Smart vs. Book Smart face-off (and, similarly, next season of “Real World”/”Road Rules” challenge will be Heroes vs. Villains), I’d just watch it. And if things got really bad then I’d just buy a cable box and give “Carnivale” another shot.

I give so much of my life to television, it’s unreal. And I don’t want wispy little half hour sitcoms, it’s all hour long dramas for me. That’s a lot of time. When the majority of my friends go back to school, it’s the people inside my gorgeous 30” widescreen TV that pick up the slack. Fuck Charles, Mike, and Ben. I’ve got Allan Shore, Veronica Mars, and all of the Desperate Housewives.

Now, I’d say television give something back. And when I say something, what I mean is money. Hopefully this new dream will be a lot more successful than the one about a free but robot-filled Tibet.

Setting my TiVo now… [Bloop-bloop]

- Drew.