Welcome Welcome to the newest weekly chapter of the Festivus: Hooked on V, otherwise known as Katy’s Corner aka Babygirl sounds off on the only thing she loves more than herself/Chard: TRUE BLOOD.
If you don’t watch this show, you’ll probably first d-smack yourself then order HBO ASAP upon reading my recaps of the greatest thing to happen to television since Edward R. Murrow or even the powersuits on Dynasty. A travesty that shiz was before my time. Neither here nor there.
First and foremost, Season 5 is not following the GD books. Tara is running around causing more butch drama, but this time she has fangs and an all-denim ensemble covered in smegma. Nice Canadian Tuexedo. Why the nips is this trick not dead yet? Kill this bitty off already! Nobody likes her. And what the f was she doing taking a bullet for Sookeh in the first place? Of f-ing course the one thing they are sticking to is the whole Alcide/Pelt family shitstorm. Alcide should really just hate-fook Sookie in front of a blazing fire, leave town, and all will be forgiven.
(Shaking head, long sip of Sancerre) Sookie Sookie Sookie. Now there’s a hoe who needs turning. Her hump pieces are just going to keep on getting hotter while she rots away semi-flirting with that vagine of a bartender Sam. You KNOW shits gonna hit the fan when she finds out they’ve been getting their swizzle on with that biblical broad. Who by the way, should’ve casted my boo Lilo for that one. Anywhooblood, Doesn’t Sooktard realize that saying no to both Bill and Eric is like slapping God in the face? I’d be like UM let’s just call me Boca and y’all can time-share this piece! Hot dang is she the worst. It’s like Carrie Bradshaw all over again; you want to root for her since she’s the protagonist, but she makes such terrible choices all you want to do is meet her in real life and pants her while waiting on line at Target and let bums laugh at her dumb ass.
And I’m still not done. The guy from SVU doesn’t quite scare me enough as the head honcho authority figure. I just keep expecting Mariska Hargitay to stroll around the fire-lit dungeon conference room and hand homeboy a cup of joe and talk about getting a warrant downtown. But props to the Authority for demanding that Bill and the Swedish Lady Boner take their shirts off more times than necessary.
Jason: stick to what you’re good at. For me, thats mischief, shift dresses, and witty one-liners. For you, that’s keeping those abs ripped as f and banging out. Stop soul searching and build yourself a damn harem!
Lafayette: use your time in the kitchen with Terry and that Ginger Racist to the fullest. Poison their grits and put on your weird demon cat mask if you must. I’m over the PTSD nonsense. War sucks, we get it.
And then there’s Jessica, my new favorite. Pale and busty? Check. Likes surrounding herself with fratty douches? Check. Keep it up, Red. Maybe you’ll be the lucky bastard who gets to merk Tara. And merk Hoyt while you’re at it, you know that guy is doomed by mid-season anyway.
Charlaine, wherever you are, I hope you fling some buttermilk biscuits in the face of Alan Ball. His creative liberties really get my stress rash flaring. If it wasn’t for Pam’s historical montage, I’d be pretty ticked with the show right about now. But there’s hope, since I think we can all agree that the best example of Alan Ballsac’s mental farts on lithium plotlines were in Season 2. Spending that much time with the citizens of Bon Temps with zombie eyes INSTEAD of looking at Sookeh take the D from Eric and/or Bill is just nonsensical. Give the peoples what they want, Ball. And what they want is less witchery, less fairy, no more Arlene/Andy/Terry/B list character stories. WE WANTS US SOME SEMI-VIOLENT CHIVALRY ON STEROIDS HUMPITY BUMP BUMPS with that heartstring-pulling VIOLIN/THEME MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND, or some Fangtasia arena rock thats best suited for strippers.