Commenters: If any of you are still reading, know that I can receive your comments, but due to the funky firewall at work, I can't respond. Since I hardly ever log on while at home (due to the eyestrain of sitting in front of a computer for 8 hours a day at work), this is problematic. I swear to you that I will answer comments tomorrow, when I will work from home.
It is Monday evening. Sweet Dub and I watch the first few scenes of The Tudors. Henry VIII seems horrifically unhappy, although he pretty much does whatever he wants. When we get to the second sex scene in ten minutes of viewing, Henry is about to bed his handmaiden (or some other serving wench, I don't know her exact title). He says, "Do you consent?" and she says breathlessly, "I do, Your Majesty," falling into his arms in a near-swoon, with her clothes tumbling off.
"WHAT?!" Sweet Dub exclaims, rewinding it through the power of TiVo. " 'Do you consent?' What kind of PC bullshit is that?! That's it for me," he says, firmly handing me the remote and stomping from the room.
So much for that series. It pretty much lost all credibility right there.