"Unfortunately, a brain is not a foot."
That was real dialogue, folks. Truer words were never spoken.
I feel a little bit like this post writes itself. Let's let some pictures speak:
"There's still so much about the brain we still don't know." FYI.
I don't want to disrespect Terrell Tilford, I really don't. When he first came on the show, I was thrilled. I mean, the man is pretty. Real, real pretty. And he did egomaniac hot-shot doctor really well. I had high hopes, because I loved seeing this family develop (springing from Shaun, an unlikely source). And I forgave him a few missteps. I'll give anyone a chance, and sometimes a great deal is asked of these people -- a great deal to do with no rehearsal, with obscenely close closeups, with sometimes ridiculous dialogue and absurd situations. It's not as if he wrote the line, "Unfortunately, a brain is not a foot."
What do they want from us??
I wish I were computer-savvy so I could put some audio tracks on here, but I think you all know what I'm talking about.
I... don't.... I can't... I mean....
I simply had to investigate. Partly because the man is so fine and so... so. Sigh. So I found his reel, where it's clear he has always been super-hot and perhaps works better in slick, glossy, over-produced television shows where he mostly functions as a model:
And I know what you're all waiting for. I won't disappoint. I was worried when this happened because I do believe that the OLTL set budget is roughly $78 and they totally had an inflatable raft (and Brody In A Wetsuit!) only, like, the day before. In fact, with all these horrid rumors about the show heading to cancellation this year, I panic every time I see a piece of furniture that looks like it might not be cardboard. Look, producers, I only live a few subway stops away from the OLTL studios and my dog is the only one home during the day; please, feel free to use my apartment for free. It's no Llanfair (in Llanview, home of Llantano Mountain, Llantano River, and Llantano Bay, and headquarters of the Llanview-only Llannett, the local internet search engine, which administers Llanchat, where teenagers who just lo-o-ove Lionel Richie go to chat online), but hey, it's free.
Back to business. Dr. Greg was very upset. Yes, very upset. He threw around some of the plastic furniture in the hospital waiting room, got restrained by a security guard, and tore off down the hallway like some amalgamation of a toddler, Frankenstein, and somebody who really, really has to pee. Shall we take a stroll down memory lane?
(He's actually flying a little here, yes?)
I wish there were more, I really do. But he's starting to turn the pain inward, and to just angrily yell at children in wheelchairs.
I can't wait to meet Dr. Nance, despite the fact that just a couple of weeks ago, Dr. Greg was the only living human who could handle this or any major surgery.
I wanted better out of this guy. It's at the point that I'm almost enjoying it -- but seriously, every day that he's on, I feel tense because I'm so worried about what he's going to do.
Do we need something to make us feel better?
Cute boys! Being jealous!
That helps a little, yes?