Veronica Mars.

Okay, so I'm constantly behind-the-times when it comes to television because:

A) we don't have cable and
B) we have no reception. 

Everything that we watch is on DVD. 

(I suppose that we could break down and buy a pair of rabbit ears, but we've become accustomed to living in a commercial-free, nightly-news-free, Katie-Couric-free world.  It's kind of wonderful, actually.) 

So I Netflixed Veronica Mars because:

A) It seems like every YA librarian and her mother is obsessed with it and
B) The fantastic Rob Thomas created it.

(Rob Thomas, the author of Rats Saw God, Doing Time and Slave Day--not Rob Thomas the Matchbox 20 guy.  As far as I know, they are NOT the same person.)

I watched the whole DVD last night--four episodes.  I just.  Couldn't.  Stop.  At first, Josh was Mr. Skeptical and continued playing his computer game, but about ten minutes into the second hour, I realized that he had covertly stopped playing and was hooked too.

A high-school girl who moonlights as a PI, a motorcycle gang, horrible rich kids, and the unsolved murder of Veronica's best friend.  Paris Hilton guest-starred in the second episode--and WOW.  She is a bad, bad actress.  It was rad. 

Classic Noir combined with Bev9er combined with A-Group-of-Outcasts-Heroes-Led-By-a-Small-Blonde-Girl-a-la-Buffy. It rules.