Weeds is my absolutely, positively all-time favorite TV show ever. It is funny, dark, surreal, shocking and exciting. And it has great musical taste. It makes me want to start a business selling pot – all the way up until people start getting shot. Then, it just makes me grateful I don’t have to sell pot.
On the first season of Weeds (which you can find on Netflix), the rude, obnoxious desperate housewife Celia is diagnosed with breast cancer. Shane, the younger son of the main character (a woman who has a thriving drug business in order to make ends meet following her husband’s untimely death) is struggling with the loss of his dad. The two cop a squat on a curb and have a little chat.
Celia: Everyone thinks I’ve lost my mind.
Shane: Everyone thinks I’m weird.
Celia: Well, I can see how you might give that impression.
Shane: I really don’t care what they think.
Celia: Good for you! Let your freak flag fly! … I’ve recently stopped giving a shit what anyone thinks and, I gotta tell ya, I feel great.
Shane: But you have cancer!
Celia: And you have a dead father. Both of us make people really uncomfortable. There is no way around it. So, we can feel all self-conscious and pretend like everything is normal or we can just be our strange selves.
Shane: Thanks Mrs. Hodes.
Celia: For what?
Shane: For telling me the truth.
Celia: You are welcome. It’s a bitch, though, ain’t it?
It is a bitch. I have surgery tomorrow (Thursday) at noon to remove the first and second level axillary lymph nodes on my right side to get the cancer out. It would be awesome if that’s all there is. I’m not sure I can get any weirder.