A suckfest can be defined, and had, by one single person. Take me for example. I bet I’m one of the few girls left who run to turn up the TV when they hear an old Craig David or Nsync song come on the music channels.

It was Friday night last night… prime time for a suckfest. I spent the night reading Lord of the Rings. Yes. Reading on a Friday night can be counted as a valid suckfest. 

Saturday night, tonight, I resorted to throwing the TV remote control into the air, repeatedly, and catching it, before repeating the action. Then challenged myself by standing under the chandelier and throwing the remote up as close as I could to the chandelier without actually hitting it. It only served to momentarily seduce my boredom, not satisfy it.

There used to be something dignified in being a hermit, or even hermit-like after a series of lame – LAME – Friday and Saturday nights. But I think even the hermits have now the leeway, and impatience, to admit that we’re quite bored.

And this is always an annoyance on Fri & Sat nights. Midweek one would hardly consider it!