I haven't left my house for 30 hours except to go to the store in my pajamas to buy Cinnamon Rice Chex, and it's all Idris Elba's fault. Okay, it's not entirely his fault, but mostly.
I've worked all week while my family has been in California. They get home late tonight, and when I returned from work Friday afternoon, I smoked a giant rock of crack. And by smoked a giant rock of crack, I mean looked around my clean, quiet, house and decided I needed to be inside of it for the next 72 hours without interruption. Because unless some horrible tragedy strikes that leaves me alone forever (which would be bad) I won't be alone for 72 hours in my house ever again for another year or more. The weather cooperated by being terrible, and my sister wives cooperated by coming over and bringing me breakfast and their company while we cleaned.
And that's when I got into Luther on Netflix.
One of the aforementioned sister wives recommended it to me, and I power-streamed the whole first season while coloring and eating a mixing bowl full of sugar cereal for dinner last night. The show is an extremely hack BBC police procedural that somehow seems less hack because everyone is British and casually drops big words like "fatuous." But in addition to being incredibly hack and gory, there is also Idris Elba.
Idris plays John Luther, the main character and a detective who solves every crime with the prescient EUREKA! of a psychic chemistry professor, while his fellow "coppers" stand around clueless and dumbfounded, serving no apparent purpose other than to act as impediments to his razor sharp detective-y instincts. And if the show is to be believed, there's a different serial killer or sniper stalking London every day of the week, a premise I highly doubt crime statistics would bear out.
I know what you're thinking. Another desperate, middle-aged white lady fetishizing and likely subconsciously objectifying--much to her horror and self-loathing--a hot black actor with zero self-awareness. Fine. Guilty as charged, minus the self-awareness part. But that fact is not mutually exclusive from the fact that Idris Elba is objectively very, very hot.
Even as his British colleagues pronounce his name "Loufa," which I believe is a sort of shower accessory, and even as he throws stuff around during every episode. Seriously at least twice per episode (so far) Loufa breaks a window, upends his desk, or chucks a giant book in frustration. Basically he has at least one enormous, out-of-control mantrum every thirty minutes, which in addition to mesmerizing me with his sexiness, also made me jealous: I would definitely get fired from my job if I threw even one book through a window ever, much less one every 45 minutes. But I want to do that. Badly.
I'm gonna keep this short because I only have thirteen hours of crack left in the pipe, and I have two more seasons of Loufa to get through.
P.S. I know it's Easter, but I'm Jewish, SUCKAS! Spending Easter Sunday with Idris Elba is quite possibly the main and only advantage to being Jewish.