Whenever I meet a Brit I thank their country for Hugh Laurie.
They know the now middle-aged actor for his quick-witted, comedic talent in British shows like "Jeeves and Wooster," "A Bit of Fry and Laurie" and "Blackadder."

We know him as the tortured genius, Dr. Greg House.

One of my no-guilt-whatsoever pleasures is watching Laurie in "House" on Tuesday nights. Grizzled, with a permanent stumble (is it hot in here?) and wrinkled shirts, the sarcastic, sacriligious neurosurgeon (one of the world's leading, of course) is emotionally damaged by the betrayal of a lover and physically suffering with a crippled leg. The pain forces him to pop vicodin, like candy.

He is often cruel, shocking even, in his maniacal pursuit of the truth and a diagnosis.

Me, as in among thousands of women, are smitten with him. We can't help ourselves, it's an actual medical condition, or mental illness, known as as the "Only I can save this guy from his demons" phenomenon.


Several "House" yahoo lists boast a female membership numbering in the thousands. The meaner House is, the more pills he ingests,the more we love him, not to mention his outstanding "philtrum."

I feel sorry for Jared. He sits next to me at work, and is, the world's greatest baseball fan.

Unfortunately, House has been postponed a month because of this (alleged)great American past time.

Jared's punishment for his guilt by association is checking and rechecking air times for House and any spoilers revealing tidbits about upcoming episodes.

Tony Blair and the Queen, please let us keep Hugh.
Trade you for Dr. McDreamy.