It's Always Sunny on Criminal Minds

You know what's like seeing a shooting star on the night of a full moon during a leap year while the olympics are going on? A tv show crossover. 

And I'm not talking about those very special episodes that network television loves to do in order to force people into tuning into shows they normally might not watch just to see a split second of a character from one of the shows they do watch. Look Dr. Ross and Dr. Carter are having a double date with Rachel and Monica! No biggie that ER took place in Chicago and Friends in NYC. Oh, isn't life on tv adorable! 

What I'm talking about is when you're watching one of your favorite tv shows and all of a sudden, you're inside one of your other favorite shows. 

This happened to me last week.

I was watching a Criminal Minds episode on Netflix. One, I feel is only fair to point out, that I've seen a bunch (like every other Criminal Minds episode). I'm not sure what was different about this time. I must've been looking up at the screen at just the right part, paying attention where I otherwise might be dicking around on my computer -- because truthfully I think and write better when I have noise on in the background and CM is one of the shows that I'll just let play while I work. Whatever it was...I watched as the unsub (CM lingo *wink, wink*) rounded the corner, his peacoat wrapped around him and his Clark Kent glasses secure on his head, and I stared on in amazement as he walked right fucking past Paddy's Pub. 

For reals, yo'.

He walked right past the entrance to Paddy's. Now, I know what you're going to ask. No, there was no sign. Come on, dummy. This is Criminal Minds and the team wasn't even supposed to be in Philadelphia. There was no Sweet Dee or Mac, Charlie or Dennis. Frank wasn't drinking wine out of a can and Rickety Cricket wasn't huddled by a dumpster. But fuck, if that killer wasn't about to stab someone right outside of Paddy's Pub! 

I was motherfucking delighted. Granted, I couldn't pay attention to the rest of the scene at all. The next thing I knew the story had moved on to the next plot point while I was busy looking up and down the street for a makeshift shanty town. But it was delicious. Those, probably, two minutes where two of my favorite shows collided was just goddamn lovely. Yes, it took me out of the show I was watching for a few minutes but that was okay. It was glorious and I loved it. 

This just doesn't happen often enough. Maybe if I wish real hard in two months time as I go to blow out my birthday candles, the next season of American Horror Story will take place in Stars Hollow!! 

Short Poppies -- the best damn reason to learn to pronounce the name Rhys.

Let's talk for just a minute about Rhys Darby, New Zealand's most delightful and enigmatic national treasure. My fiancé and I just finished watching Short Poppies, Darby's 8-episode faux-documentary, centering on the overly-ordinary and completely unusual fictional small town of "The Bay". In each episode, The Bay's mockumentary focusses on one townie of choice, always effortlessly and hilariously played by Darby. 

Now, I cannot express to you how madly important it is for you to (finish my blog) and then immediately open Netflix and binge watch all eight in a row. They're each less than a half an hour -- you won't have to call in sick from work or anything -- and it will end up being the best (approx) 3 hours of your entire month...or your life, depending on how things are going for you. 

For anyone who's a fan of Kiwi comedy -- and if you're not, you really should be -- you will immediately recognize Darby from his fucking perfect portrayal of pitiful, lovable, sad-sack band manager Murray, in Flight of the Concords. I dare anyone to watch that show and not realize halfway through the series that Murray is their landslide favorite member of the band. 

Rhys Darby more than delivers in Short Poppies. From Terry Pole, the first resident of "The Bay" we're fortunate enough to meet, the leg model and local lifeguard, to my own personal favorite Mary Ledbetter, the leader of the Lady Walkers who delights in delivering personal criticisms to everyone in the town, Darby seems to call on old Kids in the Hall folly and mix it with his own over-the-top yet somehow totally understated portrayal of each character. 

Sprinkled with fun and surprising cameos -- in front of and behind the camera --  I'm already longing to watch the series a second time. I know for a fact that there were moments when I was laughing too hard and too loudly to be fully confident that I heard everything that was being served up in front of me on a fucking comedy platter.