As a card-carrying square, my experiences with the Demon Cannabis are few and far between. Yet I’ll admit to something of a craving for <a href=”http://www.ew.com/ew/article/review/tv/0,6115,1225288_3_0_,00.html
“>Weeds, which pushes its second season on a stubbornly unscandalized public this evening. The dank dramedy stars my immortal beloved, Mary Louise Parker, as a housewife-turned-suburban horticulturist. (One day, MLP, you will succumb to me. Until then, stay in shape.) Still, this craving has’t risen to the level of actually setting my TiVo. Why’s that? Mainly because it’s full of old Wire episodes I can’t bring myself to delete. But also because something about the packaging feels, well, packaged. Felt the same way about Big Love, come to think of it: Seemed like a premise so ready made, I didn’t need or want to know any more.
But I hear Weeds gets better and better, so perhaps I’ll take a pull. (Come back to EW.com tomorrow for Hannah Tucker’s first TV Watch.) What’s the harm? I can stop any time.*
*Not entirely true. I spent most of the ’80s freebasing Airwolf.
addCredit(“Weeds: Randy Tepper/Showtime”)