I watched the first three episodes of Pushing Daisies last night, courtesy of Netflix. I was aware of it while it was on, and aware that I would probably enjoy it, but I never really made the effort to check it out. Not sure why. It's since been cancelled, but Netflix gave me the opportunity to tune in, after the face.
Most. Adorable. Show. Ever.
I thought that the whole not-being-able-to-touch thing would drive me crazy (he brought her back to life, but if they ever touch she'll die again--for good), but three episodes in and I'm still hooked. I don't know whether this will change, but currently Ned and Chuck's delight in once again being in each other's lives far overshadows the inherent tragedy of their situation. I want to hug them both, all the time. This show makes me laugh, not in a ha-ha funny sort of way, but in a sheer delight-can't-help-it sort of way. I love it. It doesn't hurt that it's retro and pretty in a way that rubs me just right, either.
One downside: Now I want pie. Constantly.
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