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Tuesday, November 10, 2009




SOOKIE DOES DALLAS


It's a night as dark and skeevish as the inside of an outhouse at a Marilyn Manson concert as our very own Jason Stackhouse slowly makes his way back to the bunkhouse of the Elite Death Squad of vampire assassins in training.  Sorta like Top Gun for the vampire killers, just without the planes or the brains.  He is no doubt thinking about how much a nice, hot bowl of cooter soup would really hit the spot - if you know which spot I mean and I think that you do - right about now.  Finally he rounds the last bend and stops in front of the door as he feels the hairs on his neck go into full def-con 4 alert.  As he slowly makes his way into the room, he is suddenly jumped from behind by a masked, husky voiced Rump-Ranger Wanna-be.  It's the Lukinator and he's not fuckin' around this time.  Damn Jason, it's a good thing you weren't coming out of the shower.  Something on you would have gotten expanded, and I don't mean your mind.  Is that a stake in your pocket Luke, or you just happy to see me?  As Jason finally gets up and sees the bloody mayhem all around him and realizes that it's only ketchup and that's he's just been punked by a roomfull of jackerwads, he gets madder than a pit bull looking at a Michael Vick jersey.  He returns the favor to Luke by belting him in the nose as he furiously announces "vampires are scary, vampires are not a joke!  There's a war going on and you're either on the dark side or the side of the light - and there ain't no in between!"  Fuck dude.  You're really hot when you get riled up.  I'll bet Luke will agree with me too.

Meanwhile, back at the House That Love Built, our boy Bill is all in a dither (again!) as he threatens to hurl sweet ole Hoyt Fortenberry from a window "that is closed!"  Well shit.  That ain't no way to treat company. Even Sookie agrees with me.  All Hoyt was trying to do was get himself a little summin summin cause I don't really think he's ever had a little summin summin.  Let's be fair here.  You and Sookie go at it like chinchillas at a brothel whenever the opportunity presents itself, so why not let Hoyt whittle his pencil a little?  Then Bill just devestates Jessica as he tells Hoyt that it's not Jessica that he wants to protect.  Shit Bill.  Sometimes I just want to thump you upside your head.  Now I have to confess folks, I really didn't get the whole look of embarrassment on Jessica's face when she ask Bill if it's her fault that her fangs come out when she gets turned on.  I don't know, maybe I was having a down day as far as smarts go, but I still don't get it.   But as Jessica scurries up the stairs, Sookie gets all over Bill's shit.  She tells him that he just doesn't like vampires very much.  As Billy Boy sits down and explains just how things are now verses how they were when he was turned,  Sookie tries to look interested. But all she's really interested in is dragging  Bill up those stairs and riding the Big O Train again.  Then she coyly makes a suggestion that Jessica accompany them to Dallas.  After some wheedling and probably a blow job on the stairs that we weren't privy to, Bill agrees.  We thought the Ewings gave Dallas hell.  Just wait.

Here we are back at the crick, as Sam and Daphne circle each other like they're about to suma wrestle. As they continue to swim in a circle until I was positively dizzy from trying to keep up with them,  Daphne suddenly gets a hard on for some sweet potato pancakes and tries to get Sam to climb on outta that murky, yucky water and join her. You'd better listen to her Sam.  I hear they's leeches and even worse in crick water.  Can you imagine anything worse than a leech on your slide rule?   But Sam is having some issues with ole Daffie seeing his junk.  So he declines.  That is until she let's him know that she's not only seen boy parts before, but she's seen his and he might as well give it up.  She doesn't really look too impressed with what she saw if you want my opinion.  As Sam watches Daphne climb from the water, he notices that she's got some really deep, nasty scratches on her back.  Sam, unless Daphne's last fling was with Nine Inch Nails, I'll go out on a limb here and say you might need to pass on this little piece of trim.  I'm 'jes sayin'.

Next morning Tara and Sookie chop it up on the phone as they discuss the if's and sniff's of Tara moving in with Sookie.  As Tara ends the conversation with "love you the most" Maryanne and her large collection of Maryannism's show up and want to know just who Tara loves the most.  Well, it ain't you, ya crazy bitch.  How do you like them kumquats?  Maryanne, of course, tries to get Tara into a partying mood, but Tara's about had enough of whatever snake oil  Maryanne's been selling.  She tells Maryanne that she's decided to move in with Sookie.  Something tells me that this is not going to be Smooth Sailing.  But of course, Maryanne pretends to gently nudge a guilty Tara from the nest with a long hug and another one of those mooterfookin' Maryannisms "Go, flourish and don't ever say no to yourself".  Now this might be good advice most of the time, but what if you wanted to rub one out while at church?  Wouldn't that be a good time to say "no" to yourself?  Again, I'm 'jes sayin'.

Breakfast time at the Light of Day Camp is like watching hogs at slop time.  Here we have Jason, the Lukinator (looking all the world like Gonzo from Sesame Street with his big purple nose) and a few others wolfing down their food like the winner will get their knob polished by the lovely Miz Sara Newlin.  Wait - maybe they will.  Anyhow, even the dimwitted Lukinator is spellbound at the sheer stupidity of Jason as they lead a rousing discussion of all sorts of issues a true hater of everything vampire related  might need to keep in his arsenal of fucktardedness.   Say, like how Lazarus or Jesus was the first vampire.  And all about evil and how Europe plays into it all and who can explain Europe?  Not me.  Just as Jason is about to wolf down a short stack of Aunt Jemima's, there's an announcement over the intercom that Jason Stackhouse is wanted outside by Reverend Newlin, PDQ.  Jason practically pees himself as he gets up and heads outside, wondering if The Reverend with the Book-'em Dan-o hair has gotten hip to his shit about those boner's he's been getting over Mrs. Reverend.  But it's a false alarm.  All the Reverend Newlin wants is a good ole boy to ride shotgun in his jeep and holler "yee-haw!" at the appropriate times when the paint balls find their target.  Ya'll, I ain't kiddin'.  This guy is fuckin' nuts.

Whoa!  It's the birthday gift that just keeps on giving!  As Sookie chokes back tears over her missing of Gran, she gives a photo of Gran, Tara and herself to Tara for her birthday.  Hmmmm....Can anyone spell cheap?  I know it's the thought that counts, but come on.  I'm sure Tara was just thunderstruck over such an overwhelming gesture, but I'm sure she herself was thinking the same thing.  What?  Sookie didn't have enough time between working at Merlottes' and riding  Mr. Bill's Magic Rocketship  to make it to the mall?  Damn Sookie, just a little gift bag from Bath and Bodyworks would have been nice.  And Sookie being Sookie, she just cannot stop herself from blabbing to Tara about what happened with Layfayette at Fangtasia.  As if there was ever any doubt, this girl does not need to take up being a double-naught spy as a new career move.  We'll all be speaking Arabic before Christmas.

Poor Miss Jeanette is looking as fucked up as a person can look as Kenya, Mike the Yucky Coroner and Sheriff Dearborn examine her poor, heartless body and discuss possible ways of her demise and what on earth could have made those horrible scratches on her back.  Hey!  Over here!  I know!  I know!  When the two buffoons crack wise, lady cop Kenya is NOT amused.  And she's even less amused as Detective Andy comes busting in, as usual acting stupid while blabbering on about a pig.  They all look at him like he's fucked up crazy at least 15 ways from last Sunday as Sheriff Dearborn orders him not only from the room, but takes all his Official Detective Shit away from him.  Awe man!   It's gonna be a cruel, cruel summer.

Lafayette hasn't lost his door answering skills as the agradamnvated hostess with the mostest hollers out "damn hooker shit!" as Tara practically beats his door down.  When he opens the door, Tara's flies all up in his shit about the gunshot wound.  And what's this about him being chained up in a basement and bitten by vampires?  Now ya'll, Laffy ain't nobody's fool.  He knows exactly where Miss Tara Mae got the 411 about his boot camp with the vampires. The expression on his mug says it all.  Like there's nothing he'd like better than to take Sookie and ream her out a new one over her big-ass mouth,  but sadly resigns himself to just let it go.  Tara makes sure he knows that it's her birthday, but in the state he's in, he just doesn't give a flyin' fuck as she leaves, looking all pitiful and abandoned.

As Sam bustles about Merlottes, acting all busy and shit, he talks to Terry about running the place while he's gone.  Now y'all, I love me some Terry Bellefluer as much as you do, but I gotta say this.  Terry is the LAST person you'd want to leave in charge of a place as crazy as Merlotte's.  What on earth is Sam thinking?  Poor Terry all but blows a major cog as he struggles to cope with planning just a few lunch specials.  This is not a good move Sam.   But Sam is all about Sam right  now.  He barely responds as Sookie tries to talk to him and find out just what's got his buttcrack so fuckin' chaffed.  Hmmmm, let's see here.  Could it be because you led him on and let him get a good ole whiff of your tuna casserole as he frantically searched for his money, then announced that you were no longer selling to him?  Could that be it?  Ya think?  But here's an idea!  This will get him feeling happier and ready to face a new day in Bon Temps!  Tell him that YOU need to be gone for a few days.  Even better!  Tell him you need to be gone with BILL for a few days to deal with your own shit.  Yeah, that outta do it.  Sam's really happy now.

Well.  It sure didn't take Tara very long to land on Sookie's sofa.  She must have stuffed all her worldly possessions in a Wal-Mart bag and hauled ass over there like it's free Pabst Blue Ribbon night at the VFW.   For here she is, crying into her imaginary beer and no doubt wondering why she got stuck with such a suck-ass life.  You just gotta feel sorry for the kid.  Here it is, her birthday and nobody really gives a damn.  Suddenly, she hears something.  Considering the history of the house with Gran and all, she just can't help but be skeeved out to the inth degree.  But this skeeving has a happy ending as Maryanne, Eggs and Carl crash the joint with cake and all the tomfoolery that goes with a surprise birthday party.  Of course, Maryanne cannot deliver birthday cake without spouting out some sort of bullshit about "embracing the mysteries of what's yet to come".  Come being the key word here........... Tara, I'm with you here.  What friends?

Speaking of coming (well, weren't we?) Jason Stackhouse probably has more sticky goo on the inside of his leg than the spackling department at Home Depot.  He struggles to pay attention to whatever boring-ass crap Steve Newlin is droning on and on about.  Meanwhile, the lovely vanilla flavored Sara Newlin shows Jason all of her perky Dallas Cowboy cheerleader moves as she all but pops the buttons from her little red gingham blouse .  And I don't think one of those ribs she's smoking right now is the kind of hot meat she's hoping to have in her mouth.  'Jes sayin'.

Just gimme a "T" for Texas as a totally buzzed looking Sookie comes bounding out of the exit door of the Anubis Airline.  Sookie, it's a good thing you got cut off at ten with those doll sized bottles of hooch.  You're already, shall we say, goofy as hell at times and I don't think you need to be getting skunked at a time like this.  Suddenly, she realizes that the limo driver is up to no good, so of course our boy Bill comes flying out of his Star Trek looking vessel, all vampire fast like, and saves the day as poor Jessica is left to bounce around in hers like a Mexican Jumping Bean.   Then Bill decides that some sort of skullduggery is afoot and proceeds to glamour the truth out of the limo driver.  In a weak moment and possibly to score some extra Pussy Points with Sooke (as if that was really necessary) he decides to let Jessica do some hands-on training with Glamouring 101.  Say no more, as Jessica is a gal after my own heart and wastes no time having the time of her life fuckin' with the head of Leon the Limo Man.

In the meantime our poor Layfayette is still laid up on his sofa, watching Sinbad as suddenly a big bad vampire comes knocking at his window.  He looks up and sees what amounts to his worse nightmare.  But Eric comes in peace.  Cause he's wanting a piece.  Real bad.  Badly enough to offer Layfayette some of his highly prized 1000 year old vamp blood.  The scene which follows is probably, hands down, one of the funniest things I have ever seen on film.  It's like Layfayette has suddenly gone into warp speed and is fucking the air, the sofa, the wall and anything else that gets near his air space.  As a bored Eric watches, his interest momentarily perked, his cellphone rings.  It's Bill and he's all in a tizzy over the almost kidnapping of the cooter that apparantely can launch a thousand ships.  Must be nice for your stuff to be so valuable and highly sought after.  I reckon mine is just regular cause nobody wants to give away their valuable blood in order to tap my ass.  As Bill gets all huffy and starts to ream Eric a new one, Eric reminds Bill of just who's the bottom bitch and who ain't.  Bill, I think this conversation is o.v.e.r.

Meanwhile, I don't think Gran Stackhouse's home has seen this much rocking under it's roof since Jason brought home the cheerleader squad.  As Tara and Eggs dance like the pro's they probably are, Maryanne makes a point of fuckin' with Sam until she has him as frustrated as a drunk living in a dry county.   Maryanne makes sure everyone is feeling the spirit as she makes a point of tossing Tara's aluminum foil wrapped gift from her mama into the shrubs.  Well, that wasn't nice.  I hope it wasn't brownies or something.  The fireants will have it before morning.  And she's off, gyrating and vibrating into the dark as everyone seriously gets their freak on, including Tara and Eggs who are getting down to some serious fuckin'.  SERIOUS fuckin.

Back in Dallas, poor Sookie's not having much luck bedding Bill and getting her hands on his overworked trouser rouser as a sudden knock at the door seriously disturbs the piece.  It's Eric and he's a wantin' a little face time with Bill.  I swear, Bill's dick is probably more over-worked than the Israelite slaves who built the pyramids.  I'm serious here.  As Eric and Bill engage in another dick-measuring contest, Sookie answers a knock at the door to discover a bellboy and a handsome young man dressed in....practically nothing.  It's Jessica's midnight snack.  Sookie's all confused cause she just knows Bill's gonna be pissed about this, but before she has time to wrinkle her nose and looks spastic, she realizes that she's just met someone like her.  No, I don't mean hornier than a taste-tester for Spanish Fly, but someone who can hear people's thoughts.  She can't wait to talk to him.  If she can just catch him, that is.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

A Very Worthwhile Cause!



Click on the above title to see how you can help out with a very worthy cause!

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

I GET A KICK OUTTA YOU!


Listen up General Motors. This is why Honda is whupping your ass. That little yellow hoop-dee of Sookie's must be at least 15 years old, yet it held up under Bill's most awesome man-fit as he drove it like he was 30 minutes late for divorce court. I kept expecting to see spit flying (would it be bloody spit?) from Bill's former pie-hole as he momentarily located those magnificent cajones he once proudly sported as he flung out a massive, yet impressive, throwdown on Sookie. And let's be honest here, didn't we all enjoy it? Just the teensiest bit? Last season, when Sookie was throwing down all that smack on Bill and recinding his invite and just being a hardcore bitch in general to him, especially after Bill had to re-connect with his big, bad vampire self and do what was the equivalent of a public vampire gang-rape, weren't we all just ready to jump up out of our seats and give out hi-fives and huge shoutouts to that awesome vampire! Yeah! 'Dats what I'm takin' about! Finally, as we who squat to pee are prone to do, she's had about enough of his shit as she furiously orders Bill to stop the car. I don't know about you, but I just loved LOVED the look on Jessica's face as Bill announces, and not to convincingly, that "she'll be back'. Jessica was like "Jesus Christ, but you are one dumb fuck." Bill, for an old guy you sure haven't learned much about women. We never NEVER give up first and come back to the car. But, of course, Sookie being Sookie, she runs into some deep do-do whilst traveling down the highway of life. So, of course, it's our boy Bill to the rescue. Again.


Poor Sookie. She's a damn mess. Back all tore up, nice denim jacket is pretty much a done deal. Looks like she won't get to use the Bedazzler on it. But her hair still looks great! As Bill finds her all super vampire-fast like as she's lying flung out in the middle of the highway (see, if that were me, at least 6 cars would have come by and run over me again, thinking it was a huge deer or something) and watches in horror (his face is like "da-um bitch, you are seriously, and I mean SERIOUSLY fucked up) as she starts frothing up some vile, nasty white stuff that looks like the nozzle misfired on a can of Faultless Spray Starch. Since Fangtasia must be the triage unit for all things vampire related, Bill orders Jessica to drive them there. Our Jessica is all ready to enjoy some hang time with her Fangtasia homies, but our boy Bill sticks a prick in that cherry as he firmly orders her home. Poor kid. It's like nobody wants her.


But help is a comin' in the form of our very own half-pint MD, Dr. Ludwig. Who's no fan of the fang and also is no fan of the bedside manner and wastes no time with howdys and fist bumps as she cuts straight through the shit. This low-down causes Bill to all but go into major spaz mode. As Bill stands around looking all janked up and worried after hearing Sookie's not only been poisoned, but will probably croak, he completely misses that look on Eric's face that makes it clear to anyone who has a dog in this hunt that as soon as the opportunity presents itself, well, that's definately an ass that he intends to tap. Sookie's, I mean. Not Bill's. Bill, you really need to start paying more attention to what's going on. You become totally pussy blinded everytime you're with Sookie. We established a while back that you're a tad slow on the upswing at times and don't pay a helluva lot of attention to anything except her.....assets....but really, you need to buck the fuck up and start paying attention. No kiddin'. Poor Bill, who's already looking as guilty as a sinner in church, holds Sookie down while Dr. Ludwig pours either battery acid or Leona Hemsley's spit on her back as she screams in pain, which, btw, would permantly damage the hearing of mere mortals, as Dr. Ludwig digs a knobby finger into her back and slides up a really nasty, loogie looking thing that reminded me of a Jelly Belly after I sucked all the sugar coating off. Since Bill was otherwise occupied looking all stressed out and guilty, I guess he just didn't have time to worry about the fact that Eric was hanging out in the corner, seriously getting his jack on as the aroma of Sookie's blood and cooter wafted over to him on a cloud of funk.


While all this fun stuff is going on at Fangtasia, we see Sam Merlotte, Bon Temps local Sad Sack, as he's sitting at his desk acting like he don't know whether to shit a tree stump or play poker. And to further enhance his sparkling personality, Merlotte's newest and not-too brightest, Daphne, shows up to announce that's she's fucked the pooch as far as her tickets go.. So of course Sam has yet ANOTHER meltdown and sends her fleeing in tears as Tara rounds the corner spouting Maryanne-isms. Lately, it's like Tara's become a talking Barbie doll. You just pull her string and she spouts out Maryanne-isms with aplomb, much to the not-delight of Sam. Sam, seriously dude, you really need to consider scoring some Xanax. Really.


"But when I dreammmm....I dream of you......." It looks like Jason is having his own dream of being blown while at camp. Wouldn't Royce Alan Williams be proud? He's sorta enjoying this.....until he jerks (*snort*) awake and sees Eddie The Murdered Vampire, all naked and wollering on top of him. This, of course, causes a major freak-out on Jason's part and so he does what all good soldiers of the sun would do. He prays. Which pisses off the Lukinator. And earns him a pillow being thrown at him. Cool. Another pillow for my bunk. Thanks dude. Does anybody really care?


Ah, yes. Here we are once again at the home of the Maryanne the Fruit Queen, as she and Carl are whipping up a batch of soup, made with hearts of Jeanette. And Carl is no dummy folks. When Maryanne suggest that it might need a wee bit more juniper, he all but dumps a load in his drawers as he scurries away to fetch it. Soon Tara shows up, looking semi-mellow over the idea of someone just bringing her stuff before she even asks. Which of course earns her another Maryanne-ism. I wonder what the prize is when you have collected say.....a hundred of these damn things? Not sure I wanna know. Anyhow, after some chit-chat and par-tay in da house talk, Maryanne proceeds to roll the biggest, most awesome looking joint I have ever seen. Now Maryanne bugs me mightly, but I will have to offer major props in the doobie rolling department. She be awesome! Of course Tara cannot resist the notion of lighting a fire under that lovely thing, and of course she won't be able to show up for work. Think Sam will be pissed? Oh, I dunno.....he's really been so mellow and understanding lately...... OF COURSE SAM WILL BE PISSED. HE IS STILL BREATHING, ISN'T HE?


After some really lame-ass group therapy session at the FOTS that nobody really wants to re-hash, least of all me, we can just blow right on past that until we cruise into Fangtasia, where a fully healed and wearing a fly Fangtasia t-shirt is Sookie, who's anxious to check out her back to see just what the fuck all the commotion was about. Suddenly she's surprised by Fangtasia's very own barmaid de jour, Ginger. Who's mama raised her right, cause she immediately brings Sookie a little bite to eat. This appears to be an original Ginger special. A "peanut butter and chocolate syrup two-top sandwich". Which, if you think about it, would back down a fuckin' fly from a puke wagon. And that's pretty much Sookie's reaction. Wait! What's that I hear? Layfayette's in the basement? And Ginger's got a gun? Where's Lassie when you need him! Quick Lassie, go find the Miller's and tell them Lafayette's being held hostage in the basement! But our Sookie's just had herself a big ole hit of vamp blood, so she needs no help from Lassie as she's quicker than the average gal. Unless you take into account the ones who show up at Filene's basement on wedding dress day. As a completely unbelieving Sookie kneels by the side of our poor, filfhy, smelly and gunshot Lafayette, it just tore me all up to see him like that. But even better than Lafayette's rescue? That damn purple eye of Sookie's is finally, finally gone.


There's an orgy at Maryanne's, but unless you're turned on by nekkid men with beer guts and pork swords a blowin' in the breeze and way too chunky to be nekkid women with tits a flippin' left and right, then I won't even bother with the freak-out at Maryanne's. Even Tara, who lately has been keeping her intelligence way too close to her cooter, is grossed out. 'Bout time honeychile. I'm jes' sayin'.


As Eric finally gets his boner under control, he announces to a furious Sookie that she most certainly can give him props for saving her life by jetting off to Dallas to help find his homeboy Godric. Sookie graces him with a look that a dog would give a box of worming pills as she announces that it will cost him $5000, which causes that smirk on The Viking's face to be even smirker. But that smirk sorta disappears when Bill ups the ante to $10,000 AND informs Eric that there's no way his bottom bitch will be going to Dallas without him. Yeah Eric, looks like you're gonna have to lick that Baby Ruth again. Rethink your game plane and all that stuff. Meanwhile, my favorite vampire in all the world, Pam, shows up and flings a shell of his former self, Lafayette, into the room. But our short-order cook still has enough piss and vinegar in him to set off the rile-up in Pam. Poor Layfayette. As he returns to his dark, empty house (which I'm sure he never thought he'd see again) he was 20 ways past pitiful as he curled up on his sofa, all swaddled in an afghan that I would bet the farm his mama had made. *sniff, sniff*.


Meanwhile, everybody's busy gettin' down at the home of Maryanne when the worst cop in the world shows up. What an idiot. First he sees a pig in a dollhouse, then he doesn't. But what he DOES see and wishes he didn't is a half-nekid and drunken Mike Spencer gettin' his freak on with the local barfly Jane Goodhouse. EEEEKKKKK! My eyes!!!


Jason, trust me on this one. You stay away from that 'nana pudding. She might not whip it out for anybody, but I'm betting my left ovary that she's gonna whip it out for you. And she'll be expecting you to bring the banana AND whip cream next time.


Jessica's had about enough of this "home alone" crap. So she paints up her lips and rolls and curls her tinted hair cause Jessica is contemplating going out somewhere. She makes her way to Merlotte's where she catch the eye of the sweetest guy on the planet. That Hoyt Fortenberry is just all kinds of awesome. He gets invited back to da house, where he thinks "Vampire Bill's" house is just soooo cool. Yeah, me too dude. Just as they're getting their freak on, they are rudely interupted by the two horn dogs who've been outside on the porch all but dry humping each other. Oh, btw, Bill still loves him some petticoats. Once inside (the house, get your mind outta the gutter) things just don't go real well with this meeting the parents thing and Bill, once again, completely over-reacts. Bill, whaz up wid 'dat? Chill baby, chill.


Meanwhile, as this incredibly long night comes to a close, Sam the Sham makes what he thinks is a good-bye run with his doggie befri. As he leaps into the crick, he looks up to see a fetchingly lovely Daphne stripping down to her Victoria's Secrets. But what are those scratches we see? Hmmmmm.........

Saturday, July 25, 2009

ERIC GETS FOILED AGAIN




BELCH! Hang on to your Pepto folks, cause our next spincter tightening episode begins with Eric, still wearing those fetching hair foils, doing a spot-on impersonation of me at the Smokin' Pig BBQ Buffet. Exchange the blood all over his vampire mug for some Jack Daniels Rib Sauce, and the resemblance is even more startling. Then, as Eric finishes chawin' down on Royce's tasty redneck vittles, and as an extra visual reinforcement to Layfayette (as if he needed one) he oh-so casually flings a dismembered arm, like a boomerang, across that smelly and gross dungeon as it slo-mo's it's way over to the left titty nipple of a totally terrified Layfayette. (I was really praying it wouldn't fall into the shitbucket.) Hey, I don't know about ya'll, but I'm definately a believer. I don't need ANYMORE convincing that Eric is Bad News. Poor Layfayette is so terrified, he doesn't know whether to shit in his eyes or screw his pants shut. And bless pat folks, Eric's worried about having blood in his hair. What did you think dude? You've just torn a slightly chunky redneck limb from limb, you've ingested enough blood to make you need to loosen the drawstring on your work-out pants and make you think that perhaps your next feed should come from someone who's been doing Jenny Craig, but yet you're wondering if some blood might be in your hair? Actually, after Eric ingested all that redneck blood, I was totally expecting Eric to order Pam or Chow to make haste to an all night car dealer and find him a 4-wheel drive pick-up with mud-grip tires, a gun rack on the back window and a Rebel flag vanity plate. And let's don't forget to load that 5-disc CD changer with some Lynrd Skynrd.
Quick cut to the Compton crib, where our eternally horny Sookie (I've decided horn-dog runs in the family) and a "teetering on the cusp of pussy- whuppedness" Bill are lying in bed,engaging in some silly, post coital small talk that's suppose to make us see just what a normal, average cute little couple they are. I find myself wondering what Sookie did with that bloody chenille bedspread. I do hope she's got it soaking in Bill's badass bathtub with a little dollop of OxyClean. And of course it's not too long before Sookie's horny hiney gets the better of her and she's coyly making a suggestion that Bill might need to make up to her for.....what? I guess it doesn't really matter. All she's really interested in is straddling those powerful vampire loins again and taking another ride around the corral. Good thing Bill's a vampire. Either his dick would fall off from overuse or Mike the Coroner would be making another midnight run.
Man, it just hurts my heart to see our once peacock-proud Layfayette all broken down and terrified as the always adorable smartass Pam smirks and calls him a hooker while chiding Eric about fuckin' up his hair. Layfayette is doing everthing but making a rabbit appear from a hat, as in desperation he begans to work an angle, any angle in order to get his ass up and out of there. In sad desperation, he throws out the name of Jason Stackhouse, but unfortunately for him, Eric jes ain't buying the shit he's selling. As Eric files away this little tidbit of information as future currency that he hopes will buy him a piece of the incredible Sookie Nookie, he lets Layfayette know the bloody-haired sheriff of area 5 jes ain't quite through with our vamp blood dealing hustler just yet. So it's back to the Fun House for Layfayette!.
As the wheels on the FOTS bus go round and round all through the town, Jason, our very own vampire killin' little grasshopper, tries his hand at joining in with some really lame-ass vampire hate songs as he and the Lukinator have a few quality moments of dick measuring and just all around buddy bonding time. If you think he looks happy now, just you wait until he gets his very own "I'm in the vampire killer club" silver decoder ring. Quick cut (this episode made me all but dizzy!) to the ever lovely Tara, as she comments on the way Eggs smells. With someone named Eggs, I expected he would smell somewhat like a hot fart in a closed up car, or maybe a natural spring of sulfur water. But no, according to Tara Mae, he smells nasty and nice and all at the same time. Gee, it's really been a while since someone said that to me. Unfortunately for the lovebirds, Tara has to make post haste to her job at Merlottes, where we just know Sam will be, once again, pissing and moaning about something. I swear, here lately he's stayed so riled up that he could start a fight in an empty house. Soon enough, here comes Sookie, who I swear looks like she 's had her hair fixed at the Ellie Mae Clampett School of Hair Design. I guess Ellie Mae has gone through all of Jed's oil millions and had to take up a career. Feeding all those critters can get expensive, not to mention the upkeep on the cement pond. I hear pool boys are union now. I know Ellie Mae's proud that Sookie appears to be her best customer. Sookie and Maryanne meet for the first time, as they perform the patented southern "nice to meet you, fuck you" ritual, their eyes are just screaming "I'm gonna kill yo skank ass, bitch" as they make small talk and Sookie tries to make sense from the weird-ass mumbo-jumbo she hears in Maryanne's thoughts. Now I don't know what language Maryanne was speaking, but I'm fairly certain she was saying "if the price of those fuckin' mango's keeps going up, I'm gonna have to pimp Carl out in order to pay for them".
Soon a randy and bouncy curls looking Sookie Mae Clampett invades the Compton joint again, as she has just seen Jessica's parents pleading for her return on the tv. I assume she was, once again, going over to verbally abuse our poor de-nutted Bill about his turning of Jessica. But alas! He ain't there. Seems he has gone out to the local mall for a few glad rags for his little girl. Now, truthfully, I find this somewhat fuckin' dumb. Why didn't he wait for Sookie and enlist her help in selecting a new wardrobe for Jessica? You think he might not be over the moon about Sookie's choices in wardrobe? I dunno....... Soon we see poor confused Bill, as he desperately looks around for the corset and crinoline section. But help is a comin' in the form of a super-horney salesclerk who's all but dripping on the floor when she finds out "Yes, I am vampire". That is until Eric with the new 'do shows up. At first I thought he really wanted to talk to Bill about some missing vampire bullshit, but now I'm more and more convinced he just wanted Bill's opinion on his new 'do as he and Bill send out a rousing vibe of light-loaferness that sends the salesclerk, who had every intention of backing Bill's ass up in the dressing room, scampering off. Bill, you really need to go home. REALLY. You have no idea what those two gals who have taken over your newly renovated bathroom are up to.
Poor Layfayette has finally broken free of his leg irons in a scene that is probably, hands down, the most gruesome and disgusting thing I've ever seen. I don't really want to describe it to you, or even dwell on it very long, so if you're curious then tough shit. Go watch it yourself. As Layfayette makes his way upstairs into the bar of Fangtasia, he's so overcome with relief that's it's daylight he practically pees himself. Suddenly, from her duties as fangbanger deluxe, comes crazy ole Ginger the waitress, looking as crazy as ever and waving a revolver around like somebody would wave around a urine specimen from someone with the clap. Now ya'll, I do believe Ginger has got the craziest looking face I've ever seen. It's like the bones can shift and her whole face just morphs into some more craziness while you're watching. As she shakily points the gun at Layfayette and he's doing everything he can think of to bullshit her into letting him out the door, she pops a cap in his ass. Well, not really his ass. It's his leg. But either way, he's screwed. And he knows it. Now all he can to do is lie all pitiful like on the couch in Eric's office, while Pam smirks at him and Chow paces the floor like a lion who knows a huge sirloin is within reach but has to wait for the straw boss to show up before he can dive into it. Like I said, Layfayette knows he's royally screwed, but he has no idea how completely shitty this evening is about to turn into. For soon he's about to become....I can only describe it as a flashback to a time I was at the KFC buffett and a college football team dropped in.
While some really crazy, black eyed, epileptic on crack dancing is going on at Merlotte's, curtesy of Maryanne, Sookie and Jessica arrive at the Hamby home. Jessica is really heart-tugging here. She's been crying bloody tears and is so homesick. Sookie feels really bad about how the shit went down between Jessica and the vampire turning thing, so she agrees to drive Jessica to see her home one last time. But before Sookie knows what fucked her blind and has time to react, Jessica is out of the car and at the front door, all super vampire-fast like. Actually, she kinda looks like me at the buy-one-get-one-free sale at Bruster's Ice Cream. I can move pretty fast when I need to. Uh oh. Sookie's really peed in her chilli now. She's in Big Trouble and she knows it. Things begin to tumble downhill faster than a fat man on a ski slope wearing greasy ski's as Jessica turns her vampire wrath on her father whom, I assume, was rather fond of what we use to refer to as the attitude adjuster. Just as she's about to rip open his neck, the front door is flung off by none other than the most pissed off vampire I've ever seen. Daddy Warbucks is on the warpath. AND BOY, IS HE REALLY PISSED!

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

SHE WORE A PEARL NECKLACE AFTER DOING THE TUBE SNAKE BOOGIE - AND HE WUVS HER!


The highly anticipated premier of True Blood's second season had me, like other good True Blood friends, virtually squeeing and heheing all over the place. Luckily, the cable didn't go on the fritz and the show started on time or else my chair would have gotten rather messy, what with me squeeing and heheing all over the place. And what a screaming start it was. Literally. I'm not real sure which of our two Bon Temps gals can scream the loudest, Sookie or Tara, but one thing I am sure of. Tara wins the twisted, let's-hope-it-don't-come-a-freeze face contest, hands down. She really knows how to throw her face into something.....else.... while laying down a blood curdler. I am speaking, of course, of Miz Voodoo Chile and her slight return. Or the heartless one. Yeah, I know. I'm not being very reverent of the dead. But damn, Miss Jeanette, you did Tara wrong by taking her money not once, but two times. That'll learn ya about them ill gotten gains.

Meanwhile, Sam uses this dead-body-in-my-parking-lot as another golden opportunity to hang out next to Sookie, looking all Sad Sack and pitiful, while trying his best to let Sookie know, yet again, just how much he's so not over her. And would someone PLEASE tie Andy Bellafluer to the bumper of a car? While it's moving? Please? About five minutes of watching a clearly distraught Tara being verbally abused by this lout while taking her turn sitting in the Jason Stackhouse hot seat down at the local hoosegow is about all I can take.

OMG! It's Lafayette! He's alive! Well, sorta. And he's in some sort of vampire version of Dante's Inferno, all chained up while some white folk take turns shitting in a big bucket, sorta like what drywall mud comes in. This made me put the hairy eyeball on my new white toilet with a whole new level of fan sized appreciation. Ya'll, some things is jes' wrong, and I do believe this is one of them. No....not the chained up white folk, but having to shit in a drywall bucket. And I did not see any Charmin for them to use. This is just soooo nasty and violates several major health codes for a public establishment. But somehow I don't think the lucky folks staying in Eric's Scenic Hideaway are going to complain very much. And poor Lafayette has been reduced to holding out his tongue, all pitiful like, desperately hoping for a drop of water from some nasty looking rusted overhead iron beam. Which turns out to taste as vile as I figured it would. I'll bet some of Eddie's Merlot would really hit the spot right about now, hey Mr. Entrepreneur? But Eric's not quite through, for he's got more good shit to lay down. For low and behold, what have we here! Why, it's Mr. Garlic Press himself! Being dragged down the stairs by some big bald headed goon wearing a dark suit, while making all kinds of noise and in general being a loud pain in the ass. And just when Layfayette thought his day (or night) just couldn't get any worse, well guess what? It's worse. But look on the bright side, Layfayette. You two can hold hands and take a trip down memory lane. At least until Eric comes off the spool and rips off an arm from Mr. Aids Burger.

Soon we are at the home of Bill and Sookie Plus One. Just in time to see PYT (pretty young thing) wrapped in a very thick, nice towel (the kind you would snag from the Waldorf Astoria) as she hangs over the balcony and announces to a" I'm in some deep shit now" looking Bill and a bumfuckled looking Sookie that she just "loves your showah". Sookie, remember back a few weeks ago, when you threw down on Bill and recinded his invite? He tried to tell you. But you just wouldn't have none of it. Maybe next time you will listen. But probably not. But it's just the way life is. When some bad shit happens and you think maybe you should tell that significant other, but you just never do get around to it ,then finally figure why rock the boat, that sometimes those things can come back to bite you in the ass. Bill, consider your ass bitten.

Of course, there's some boring ass shit going on with Jason and the FOTS. I can tell this storyline is going to annoy the pigpiss outta me. I'm already tired of Steve Newlin, his Stepford wife and his crap in general. Maybe because I run into him and his ilk on a daily basis. I actually felt pity as our Jethro Bodine looking Jason in his plaid buttoned to the neck shirt, tries desperately to look like he really knows 1.) what the fuck they are talking about. 2.) why the fuck they are talking about it in the first place 3.) what any of this has to do with the price of eggs. 4.) how soon he can find a hot chick to nail in the storage room of the chapel.

What's up with Carl? For some reason he makes me think of Goldfinger's OddJob. And I'll bet he throws a mean-ass bowler hat. Maybe, after that awesome smack down by Maryanne, the bowler will be thrown at her head. And Sam - all I can say is AWE! Just AWE! What a cute, adorable little beagle pup you were. And did no one ever tell you not to pick up other people's valuable shit? Take that strange looking statue at Maryanne's crib. I don't know exactly what it was, but one thing I know for sure. It's expensive. Very expensive. Haven't you ever seen that sign that use to hang in our local dime store? "It's pretty to look at, it's nice to hold. But if you break it, we mark it SOLD." Words to live by Sam. See, I am extremely qualified to chide you on this one. Cause I broke more than my share of trinkety shit at the local five and ten.

*Sniff, sniff*. I swear, just when I wanna slap some sense into Sookie, there she goes and makes me cry. When she went into Gran's room, I swear I was nuttin' but a mass of snot and tears. That is until she picked up that cardboard box and cut her finger. All I could think of was Arlene saying "Bet Vampire Bill would get a rise outta that". Then to top it off, outta the blue here comes an older version of Pee Wee Herman to see Sookie about Uncle Bartlett, the local pedophile, and his guilt money. When that strange looking little dude with the bowtie started talking, I stopped crying. Cause he really freaked me out. Oh well. Sookie doesn't want the child molesting uncle's money, so she does the next best thing with it. She gives it to Jason so he can attend the vampire killin' camp.

Oh yes, we're back at poolside. Great weather, great tropical fruit, even better weed, and a seasoned bullshitter in a lovely, black Grecian dress. What could be better? Maryanne is feeding Tara and Eggs so much shit that frankly I'm surprised they have any room at all for those kumquats. And the most important part? NOBODY NEEDED TOWELS. See Carl, you royally screwed up Maryanne's plans to have Eggs and Tara fuckin' poolside in five minutes or less.

Soon we are back at Merlottes as the waitress who's down to her last straw - or rather last nail - Arlene , convinces Sam to hire this new girl, Daphne. Who's mama is half Cajun. Which means either she can make some mean ass crawfish pie or can play the accordian like a muthafucker. Or maybe she's.....something else? Oh yes. Sam definately needs another crazy, strange, ain't-what-she-seems female in his life. Wonder if she vibrates ?

Meanwhile, back in Eric's Love Shack, our poor Layfayette is playing Dr. Phil to one Royce Alan Williams as he reminesces about having his wee little knob blown while at Camp Safety Patrol. You too, huh? Some things don't change, I reckon. It was a camp tradition around here. Royce, if getting blown by another boy was the worst thing you could think of to confess to Layfayette, then guess what? You're about to have something even more mind-blowing (or dick blowing) to put in your yesterday's diary. Cause guess what! Here come the big bad sheriff of area five! And he's a coming' for you! He's gonna be all over you like stink on shit. Or the shit bucket. Whichever. No? You say you've got something up your sleeve to take care of his nibs? And there's gonna be Big Trouble? You've got a silver cross? Why, you little rascal you. Yeah, that'll teach those cocky vampires to mess with the best. Oops! Guess it didn't work. KIDNEY anyone? Can I give YOU A HAND with that? How about a LEG up? Or maybe an ARM to go around your shoulder.

Just when we thought things couldn't get much funner, we are back at Daddy Compton's as he and the apple of his eye are having their own vampire version of a wine tasting party. And here, blowing through the door like another Louisiana hurricane, is our own purple-eyed Bitchinator. And she's pissed. Again. After kissing ass and smoozing Jessica into retiring for a spell into that hole in the floor, Sookie once again turns her wrathful purple eye upon our Nervous Nellie Bill. I just loved the way he was was acting all jovial , trying like a randy little shitmonkey to be all carefree and casual, hoping against hope that he wasn't knee keep in the do-do again. He shoulda known. Once again, Sookie's all up in Bill's shit about knocking off her perverted Uncle Bartlett. *yawn*. Get over it Sookie. Bill is a VAMPIRE. He's gonna have the occasional slip and send a human or three to deadsville. Don't take it so personal. After all, if Uncle Bartlett hadn't croaked, how would Jason have gotten the money to attent vampire killer camp? See, everything happens for a reason and no good deed ever goes unpunished. How many times must I tell you this? Anyhoo, back to Sookie's massive throw down on Bill. Except......Bill gets all sad and weepy. I just wanted to take him in my arms and take his beautiful head and maybe push it down onto my lap.........oops, getting a little off topic here.......but damn Sookie! He might not have said he was sorry, but he is. Get over it already. And anyhow Sookie, maybe you haven't noticed this one little thing about yourself. Whenever someone dies, for some reason it makes you hornier than a West Pac sailor on shore leave. See a dead body? Oh please Bill, please nail me. Gran dies? Oh please Bill, do it, I want you to. Uncle Bartlett is dead? Well hell, how fast can we get to your bedroom Bill? Sookie, I don't think you need to go work for Mike the coroner. You'll fuck yourself to death before Christmas. 'Jes sayin'.





Sunday, June 7, 2009

SWEET TORMENT


I am a present focused person. Which means I want to enjoy my pleasure now. It makes no sense to wait until tomorrow what can be enjoyed today. Who knows? I could be stretched out under a red dirt coverlette by tomorrow, so let me have my fun today. Of course, that makes waiting for something as wonderful and exciting as the new season of True Blood that much more of a challenge. I awaken each morning reciting the countdown. "Thirteen more mornings to awaken before my eyes can once again be graced to his beauty, twelve more days before my eyes"......you get the picture. For me, it's like a delicious torment. I find myself flipping through the many HBO channels I have on my lineup, hoping to get a glimpse of one of the delicious promos we have been treated to. For me, it's like cranial foreplay. I feel the tingle begin as Bob Dylan rasps "Oh well I love you pretty baby" and doesn't let up until I feel the final tingle hit the tips of my toes. Ah yes, it is a sweet torment.

If I were Joan Baez, I would write such a song about that wonderful man, Stephen Moyer, with eyes bluer than robin's eggs. Each time we are treated to a new photograph of him, in all his beautiful glory, each time we see the briefest of clips of him that foreshadow promises of the delights of a new season, we collapse into a satisfied heap, as we revel in the afterglow of orgasmic joy. With frenzied obcession, we sit, hands gripping the arms of our chairs as we wait with the anticipation of a new bride, for something- anything - that will assauge the aching need we feel to see him. Are we all nuts? Probably. But it's a nuttiness that we, as Billsbabes, are all to proud to be afflicted with. We desire no cure. All we do desire is more explosure to that sweet torment known as True Blood and Mr. William Thomas Compton.

The clock has struck midnight. Seven more days................

P.S. Isn't that beautiful image of Mr. Moyer to die for? If you're curious as to where I found it, then just follow the link to Sunlight On Your Skin. You'll be spellbound!




Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The Adventures of Sookie and Her Magic Nookie




Once upon a time there was a little girl named Sookie.  She was like no other little girl.  For Sookie had magic powers.  She could hear what people were thinking.  But her other talent was much more special.  Sookie was born with a magic nookie.

Sookie lived in a town called Bon Temps.  She lived with her Gran and her brother Jason.  

Sometimes Sookie was very sad.  None of the other children wanted to play with her.  They called her names.  One day a new girl named Tara came to Sookie's school.  Tara was sad too.  No one wanted to play with her either.  Sookie asked Tara to be her special friend.  Tara was happy to be Sookie's friend.  

Sookie and Tara grew up and then they went to work at the same place.  It was a bar and grill called Merlotte's.  Sookie like to work at Merlotte's.  She met many interesting people.  
One night  a strange and handsome man came into Merlotte's.   Sookie's magic nookie knew there was something very special about this man.  He was a vampire.  His name was Bill.  Sookie thought it was very funny that his name was Bill.  Everytime Sookie was around Bill, her magic nookie would  talk to her and tell her about all the things that she should do so that her magic nookie would stay happy.  

One night Sookie came home and saw that someone had murdered her Gran.  She was very sad. Her magic nookie talked to her and told her how to get glad again.   It told her to put on her Stevie Nicks dress and she and her magic nookie should go visit Bill.  Bill was very happy to see Sookie.  He was even more happy to see her magic nookie.  He was so happy that he showed Sookie his fangs.  They were very sharp.  

Bill and Sookie's magic nookie went on a very special trip.  Sookie's magic nookie had never been on such a trip.  It made her so happy that she wanted to take this trip again and again.  Bill had even more fun than Sookie.  He decided that he would take Sookie's magic nookie on as many trips as he could.  He decided he wanted to travel everyday.

Other men wanted to take Sookie's magic nookie on a trip as well. 
 Sam, the man that Sookie worked for, wanted to take the magic nookie on a very long trip.  But Sookie would not let him. Sam was very sad.  He decided to take Tara's nookie on a trip, but it was not a magic nookie.  Sam decided he would stay sad.  



One night Sookie met another vampire named Eric.  Eric knew that Sookie had a magic nookie.  Eric wanted to take Sookie's magic nookie on a very, very, very long trip.  Bill did not want Eric to take Sookie's nookie on a trip.  Eric decided that he would not give up.  After all, it's not everyday that you meet someone with a magic nookie.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

SOOKIE, YOU 'JES AIN'T RIGHT!


"If you only knew what I had done to return to you."

I still cannot believe that anyone who sports girlie parts let that statement go right on by them. It just blows my mind. It's actually an afront to hoo haw owners everywhere. Sookie, were you NOT LISTENING? I realize that you were all riled up because your oh-so fine vampire boyfriend caught you macking it up with the person he had personally asked to look out for you. And it was an awesome throw down if I do say so myself. But seriously Sookie, WTF? You didn't hear that sentence, or did you just decide it wasn't worth exploring further? Again, WTF?

Let's see here, he's been gone for what, three days? He hasn't called, he hasn't texted (cause we know how he hates to use the number keys to type) and he hasn't even bothered to come rescue you from yet another purt-near strangling. I can see how you could be a bit pissed off at him, but really now? You're not even the least bit curious about what that statement meant? If it had been me, I would have stopped right in the middle of my rant 'n' roll and wasted no time in peeling the skin from his dick over that statement. I'd be like "you had to do what? No, don't ass-drag about it, you said if I only knew. So let's have it. Only knew what? Let me guess, it involved a vagina, no doubt. Well, what are you waiting for big boy? Let's hear page 33, paragraph 2 of the official Lyin' Sack Of Shit Playbook that all of you mofo's seem to own. What? Cat got your tongue?"

But what did you do? You let that one sail right over your it's-all-about-Sookie's head while you stomped on his sad, abused heart as you threw him out, then to prove to him and anyone who gave a shit that you meant bidness, you slammed the door hard enough to crack the ozone. And never mentioned it again.

Like I said Sookie, you jes' ain't right.

Monday, February 2, 2009

THAT GLORIOUS SYSTEMATICAL EYE-POPPIN' WAGGLE TAGGLE WALK



Again, in the spirit of noticing the most mundane, ridiculous things that have absolutely nothing in the world to do with the plot or trajectory of any given episode, I feel that it is now time for me to expound on Sookie's walk. Now we already know that our Sookie is the owner and sole proprietor of The Magic Sookie Nookie, but I think it's her walk, so distinctive and unique, that sets her apart from your average run of the mill fem fatale. I can't quite nail it down (unlike our Vampire Bill who nailed it BUT GOOD) but it's sorta how she twirls around and somewhat knocks her kneecaps together before she starts her strut. You know, like she all but changed her mind at the last minute and decided to stay put, then everything starts moving before her brain can catch up with her ass. It's almost as if her hips come out of joint like her backside has a Liam thing going on. As she walks away you can see her rumpus sort of shifting from one side to the other. Puts me in mind of two possums fucking under a bedpan. Whenever I see her walking an old saying I've heard my Mama say a thousand times pops into my noggin. "It must be jelly cause jam don't shake like that". Well, I guess it would all depend on how lose and lucious that jam really is. And if the way Bill acts since he tapped that ass is any indication, then that jam is indeed something special. He's sort of been in a daze since he lowered his bucket into that magical well. Adds new meaning to the term "one hit wonder". I sure wish I had a walk like that. I can only dream.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

New blog for my William Thomas Compton Chapters

In order to maintain the atmosphere of complete and total insanity at all times, I have moved my more serious blogs about Mr. Compton to a new home. A link can be found on the StephenMoyer.net site, as well as at http://TheLifeandTimesofWilliamThomasCompton.blogspot.com
Just look over to the right of the chapters, it's easy to find.

Thanks! Hope to see you there. Yeah, come on over. You know you want to!