Hump, Marry, Kill: With Friends Like These, Who Needs A Better Life?

Hump: Mindy Kaling gets to write her own TV show and hire equally smart, hilarious people, like Adam Pally, Chris Messina, Glenn Howerton, Ike Barinholtz, Anders Holm, and the Duplass brothers, to be on it with her. So jealous. That right there is a dream lovefest.

Marry: I’ve been holding off on writing about it because it has yet to totally win me over, but I can’t go another week without acknowledging the adorableness that is David Walton on About a Boy. The adorableness that is David Walton in anything, really. Dude is 6-feet-4-inches of guitar-playing magic, and it’s about time he starred in a series that made it past the first season. Well, that last part remains to be seen, but keep doing your thing and having your face, D. Walt. And, I apologize in advance for how I trash your wife’s new show in the next section.

P.S. Stills from next week’s shows have Will playing poker with Crosby from Parenthood, which, on a recent episode, received a visit from Friday Night Lights’ Crucifictorious. I love how Jason Katims’ shows all exist in the same universe. If Tim Riggins ever shows up in a scene with David Walton, I’ll probably die because television nirvana will have been reached. Please forward my mail to Dillon, TX, in the event that occurs.

Kill: I’m not really going to go into my feelings about the How I Met Your Mother finale, because I’m way more disappointed in the Internet OUTRAGE over this perfectly lovely show that allowed us to feel genuine feelings and have real opinions about fictional characters. Craig Thomas and Carter Bays gave us nine seasons of a series that captured New York City during a specific moment in time for a group of people to whom many of us can relate. I cried during the finale, because it was over, and we were getting emotional closure. I also cry during iPad commercials, but that’s neither here nor there.

I loved how Ted, Lily, Marshall, Robin, and Barney all met and interacted face to face; you never saw their phones on the table at MacLaren’s. That’s a dying trait among New Yorkers currently that age, so HIMYM will always hold a specific place in my heart for how it lovingly encapsulated the last generation before smartphones pervaded every part of our lives.

Moving on. I will go into my feelings about Friends With Better Lives, the complete travesty of a sitcom CBS thinks is going to be the next Friends and HIMYM. The stereotypical sitcom tropes are alllllllllllll there: the pathetic, sex-starved married couple who appear to be sick of one another. The gynecologist jokes. The oral-sex jokes. The “blind date who turns out to be short” visual gag. (Is that supposed to be funny in 2014?) Ugh.

If you’re envious of your supposed friends’ lives, just get different friends. Or, lose your inferiority complex and stop comparing yourself to people you’re supposed to like. This show makes me sad for the hundreds of pilots networks pass on every year that are undoubtedly better.