Thursday, November 18, 2010
To begin with, why is it called Eyecon? Beats the heck outta me, but whatever it's called, I do know one thing. It's F U N! I had the most wonderful time. And I wasn't the only one. All my fellow Billsbabes had just as much fun as I did. It's been a really long time since I felt so relaxed and ready for some fun, just for me.
Early on Friday morning, I hopped into my trusty, but very dusty red Jeep and drove down and met up with my good friend and fellow Billsbabes Nina. We cruised on down the highway ala Thelma and Louise (minus shooting a guy at a juke joint. We couldn't agree on which one of us would actually get poked by a drunk and which one would do the shootin', so we just decided to forget it) until we reached Orlando, Fl. Orlando is often the desired destination for all things fun in the sun and this weekend was no exception. We arrived and checked into the beautiful Florida Hotel and Conference Center, and before long we were banging on the door of our ringleader, aka The Bag Lady. I'm sure she's been known by other names, but hey, this is going to be a "G" rated post, so I won't repeat those. We had to wait in the hallway until she found her shirt and put it on and I don't know what was up with that, but I believe in going for the gusto and I'm not here to judge.
As much fun as it was meeting the fantastic actors from True Blood, I have to say that it was more exciting to finally get to meet, face to face, some of my fellow Billsbabes that I've been talking with either online or by phone. I was positively giddy with excitement! I was giddy with other stuff too, but we won't go into that.
Later that evening Nina and I, along with Michael, Renee, Margaret, Anjanette and Ruth, made our way downstairs to the Meet and Greet Cocktail Party. Those cocktails were a little hard to come by, but after downing one Marguerita that my bud Renee volunteered to stand in line for (pidgeons had started roosting on her head, thinking she was a statue), it wasn't long before the main event started. In through the doors arrived our highly anticipated guests, minus Joe Manganiello. Sam Trammell, Allan Hyde, Kristen Bauer van Straten and her incredibly handsome husband Abri arrived to squeals and applause. Photos weren't permitted, so you ain't gonna be seeing any from that. There were a lot of people there jostling and shoving in order to see their favorite stars, so we didn't stay a real long time. We decided to make our own fun, so we soon hit the road in search of thrills and chills at Planet Hollywood at Disney After Dark. Oh, and I was about to forget that we had a surprise visitor show up unexpectedly. He was a long legged, big footed fellow and he was totally diggin' his homies at Planet Hollywood. We could hardly keep the honeys off him.
After breaking for some much needed sustance (I'm lying through my teeth here, cause I could go without 3 squares for about 3 months and still be totin' a load) we got ready for the Pictures and Autographs. And what fun it was! It was so great to be able to meet and talk with Sam, Pam, Allan and Joe. Sam is just the bees knees! Those blue eyes of his could sure make a good Christian woman think about sin.
There wasn't much time after this activity until the Banquet was scheduled to begin. We barely had time for more than a quick swipe and a piddle before we had to make our way down to the banquet area and get lined up. I, along with Nina, had the great luck to be seated with the beautiful Kristen and her smokin' hawt husband Abri. Ladies, you want to see a beautiful couple, then look no further. She's just as beautiful as she appears on screen. But that's where the resemblance to Pam stops. She's just the sweetest, friendliest thing! And that husband of hers has an accent that could make wooden ice cubes melt and totally cause an eargasm. You can see the love those two have for each other. It was downright humbling. And for an old cynic like me, I'm surprised it didn't make me nauseous. We had a wonderful time talking with them and getting to know a few things about them and their life during dinner. I was just about too excited to eat. Notice I said "just about". Nothing ever gets me that excited. And that's a shame, cause quite frankly the food was a little suspect. Kinda rough going for the taste buds. Hell, I think I saw the dinner plates trying to escape through the back door so they wouldn't be charged as an accessory after the fact. But hey, we didn't come there to eat. We came to have fun and fun we did!
The Fangbangers Ball. That name just about says it all. Costumes were not required and yours truly didn't dress up in any costume other than my usual traveling clothes, but there were some really original and fantastic costumes there. I saw more Lady Gaga's than a MTV marathon. I saw Eric, Queen Sophie, lots of Sookie's, a Laffie or two and enough vampires to drain the entire convention center before dawn. Everyone sure looked like they were having a great time. I'm not too steady on my feet and the Good Lord didn't see fit to bless me with rhythm or coordination, so I just sat and watched the young folks slinging a hoof and enjoying the music and atmosphere. I don't think I've stayed up that late since the last time I had to find somebody to post bail. (Just kidding!)
Can I get a "hell yeah!" for Mr. Sam Trammell? He totally lives up to all the hype. His Q & A was such a treat for us all. I've already reported on my thoughts about meeting him, so I won't prolong this long-winded post any further. I know you all are relieved.
And I need to give a holla out to the event owner, Kenny. He is such a sweetie! A sweeter, nicer young man you couldn't meet. He really made us all feel welcomed and made sure we were taken care of. Thanks Kenny. Actually, the entire staff was super to one and all. I know they must have been dog-butt dragging tired by Sunday night, but you wouldn't know it. Thanks to you all!
Sadly, before long it was time to get our things together, say our good-byes and get ready to make the drive home. With long, sad faces we hugged each other as we repeated over and over how much fun we'd had, how great it was to finally meet each other and how we just couldn't wait until the next opportunity to do this again. It was a great weekend and if you ever get the opportunity to attend Eyecon, then do yourself a favor and GO!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
I had an intensely great time at Eyecon in Orlando Fl this past weekend. I got to meet four, yes count 'em, four stars of the fabulous True Blood! Sam Trammell, Kristen Bauer van Straten (along with her mega sexy-sweet husband, Abri van Straten), Allan Hyde and Joe Mangneillo. Jealous yet?
One of the the highlights of this past weekend was meeting and talking to Sam Trammell. Yes ladies, he's just as adorably handsome in person as he is on screen. He's a true sweet southern charmer, who's mama sure raised him right. He was sweet, polite and cordial to each and every fan, every time he met one of us. I can't imagine how overwhelming and tiresome it must have been to be accosted continually by a bunch of overzealous fans. But I must say, he handled it like the pro that he is. He has a way of making each and every fan that he spoke with feel like he showed up just for that person. Sam, if you ever read this, rest assured that a lot of middle aged housewifes left Orlando Florida with a huge crush on your handsome self! You rock!
One of the most entertaining activities offered to us were the Q & A's (that's Questions and Answers for you Eyecon virgins) by the guest stars. Sam, of course, had each and everyone of us eating from his hand within the first 10 seconds. He was funny, engaging, animated and just downright adorable! Great questions were asked by the audience and great answers were given by Sam. Except those that had to do with what was gonna happen in season 4 that is! His lips were sealed and nothing, not even our pitiful begging could loosen his lips. Yeah, he's a tough one alright!
One of my favorite parts of the convention was the autograph and picture session. Sam graciously signed all sorts of pictures, shirts, Eyecon badges, posters, DVD sets, and other stuff that I just can't remember. Like I said, every person who came to his table was treated like he was there just for them. He posed for so many pictures that I'm sure he had to use a crowbar to get the smile from his face before he could eat supper. But he looked like he was having as much fun as we were. I sure hope so.
I didn't sit at his table during the banquet, but if the goofy grins and dreamy looks of the ladies who were at his table is any indication, they sure had a great time. I was privileged to sit with Kristen Bauer van Straten and her handsome husband Abri. I'll write about that in another post. I know everyone is on pins and needles and just can't hardly wait. *snort*
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Well, I've come to the conclusion that this episode is all about......crazy. And nothing or nobody is more crazy than Tara's very own Sir Wacko-A-Lot, as he's got her hog-tied to one of Talbot's prized antique chairs that probably held the ass of Lucretia Borgia or something. But whomever's ass it once held, it's obvious to Talbot and his highly sensitive snoot meter that Tara and Franklin are just completely wrong for his decor. As he and Franklin snarl and throw fangs at each other and just have a pissing contest in general, in through the doors come The Three Amigos, still chortling and black-slapping each other like they've just completed the back nine at Pebble Beach while Lorena twirls the bloodied, sequined top of that poor ravaged girl. Maybe she’s gonna learn to pole dance and strip in an effort to entice her beloved William back into her cooter where she so clearly thinks he belongs. Screechhhhh......needle off the record time. Bill is suddenly as silent as a dog's fart and looks completely gobsmacked as he rounds the corner and catches sight of Tara. All eyes are on Bill as Tara demands to know "what's wrong witchew" as his face closes up tighter than a hawk's ass in a nosedive as he turns away and refuses her plea for help.
I guess I have a confession here. I am all into Frankllin Mott. I don’t know if it’s the way he totally rocks those scruffy, pointy toed cowboy boots or the way the fucked-up crazy just rolls off him like gas from an egg sucking dog, but he’s quickly become my next to favorite vampire (Pam is still No. 1) When he shows up, ya just know he’s gonna be bringing the crazy/funny and you’ll be laughing so hard it could bring tears to a glass eye. Case in point: which other vampire’s only line of defense against being reprimanded for not only dragging around another girl and possibly leaving another mess for King Russell to clean up, and doing in a group of elderly church ladies at the casino’s in Biloxi (these had to be Catholic church ladies, cause Baptist church ladies certainly wouldn’t be caught dead - or maybe they would – in a gambling den of iniquity ) is “they wouldn’t let me have a turn!” No vampire I can think of. But I don’t think Tara shares my infatuation with this sprayed roach crazy huge freak though. Most of the time when he’s around her Tara looks so damn terrified and uptight that you couldn’t shove a greased BB up her ass. But ole King Russ likes him! Or rather, likes his work. He’s mega impressed with the collection of information about this strange girl with the magic nookie that seems to have half of Louisiana’s vampires under her spell. And he just grins like it’s nickel night at the whore house and he just scored a whole roll of them suckers when he hears that the one and only Sookie Stackhouse is in Jackson. But alas, things are starting to look a bit bad for our pretty boy Bill. As Gomer the Pyle would say “what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” As Russell begins to grill Bill (a little nod to season one) about the folder of Very Incriminating Shit that Franklin found at his home, Bill tries, not to convincingly might I add, to deny and evade the issue in the vain hope of having the king as confused as a blind dog running around in a meat house. Nope. He’s not buying it Bill.
Sookie’s not having a much better night, what with Mississippi potholes trying to kill her and having to deal with Alcide’s meltdown over the sight of his former sweetpea getting gang raped and branded at the local wolf’s den. Poor Alcide. He’s still completely crunk over Debbie and he’s just a pitiful sight as he sadly tries to explain to Sookie about the way Debbie Pelt use to be before the vamp blood turned her into a raving lunatic. Which she demonstrates to Sookie when she pays Alcide a surprise visit in order to tell him that he’d better keep his yap muzzled about what went on at Lou Pines if he wants to keep wagging his tail another day. Sookie hears all the commotion and comes wandering out of the bedroom right into a shitstorm of crazy. Debbie is all but foaming at the mouth like she’s got rabies or something when she catches sight of Sookie. That Debbie, she’s just the kind of gal you would want to take home to mama. Too bad she doesn’t have a twin. She has that crazed addict’s quiver going on so much that I do hope she remembered to order fries with that shake. And I do believe Debbie has taken the skimpy clothes crown away from our Bon Temps waitress. To tell ya the truth, she don’t hardly wear enough clothes to flag a handcar. I don’t know about tightness though. I think Sookie might have her on that one. Sometimes the only way those britches Sookie wears ain’t too tight is if she got gunshot in the ass and she’s trying to stop the bleeding. Anyhow, later that day, after Sookie and Alcide recover from their visit from Twitch the Bitch, Alcide just throws a fit over Sookie catching a ride on his brain waves and her demanding to know what all this packmaster shit is about. Alcide, don’t you remember what I told you several recaps ago? That Sookie, she might not get you killed, but she will get you into more hot water than a limp dicked rooster headed for the dumplin’ pot.
Well, look who’s come a calling! It’s Eric and he’s none too pleased about being double armed and bum rushed into King Russell’s house, but Talbot sure seems happy as he gets all sprung when he sees what’s standing there. It’s dick on the hoof, and lots of it. Eric waste little time with small talk as he immediately starts in to running his yap about looking for a missing vampire from his territory who’s suspected of selling V. Russell already knows Eric’s full of shit and is shooting lies from his ass with the rapid fire speed of a politician the day before election so he totally sets Eric up as Bill walks into the room and pretty much informs Eric that he’s a lying sack of shit. Russell and Talbot make some snide comment about how Eric and Bill must be stupid for arguing over a human and ignoring THEM, but when it comes to the magic nookie I guess all bets are off. I’m sure when Eric hears Bill announce that “Sookie is no longer mine” he probably springs wood the size of Butterball turkey and his eyes glazed over. Finally Eric shakes the dream of Sookie’s cooter from his head and gets to the most important bidness at hand He tells the king about that evil cocksucker the Magister who’s holding Pam hostage because of the V selling and he’s gonna kill her unless Eric produces a sacrifical goat in the form of Bill Compton. Personally, I think the Magister just needs to take his mean ass on back to Juniper Creek and get busy harvesting and fertilizing those eggs of one of his daughter’s so he can impregnate his ex-wife.
Russell has Other Major Shit going on right now and really doesn’t have time for dealing with guests, but Talbot is more than happy to take over and show him “everything”. In no time at all he’s showing Eric some rare Japanese erotica. Subtle much Talbot? Eric is laughing and acting all sexy and flirty with Talbot, who probably thinks that before the night is over he might be Rump Rangering all over that tall drink of blood as Eric is eyeballing all the rare collectibles and treasures that Russell and Talbot have accumulated over centuries when his eye is drawn to a display of crowns. Eric recognizes one of them as he reaches inside a glass case and picks it up. We have another Long Time Ago flashback to Eric’s days as a human. A freshly fucked Eric, still basking in his post coital afterglow and dressed up in viking garb comes strolling into the dining hall holding the stiffest, most wooden looking baby I’ve ever seen. It’s his sister. Now I know it’s kinda hard to make use of a real human baby on this show, but come on folks. This kid looks like she’s made of a piece of fat lighter stump stovewood that somebody hastily rounded off one end to resemble a head and stuck a few wispy baby looking hairs on it. But having a stiff looking baby sister is the least of Eric’s problems as his father, who appears to be a king of some sorts, lights into him about being a total slacker who’s only ambition in life is chasing tail. Eric doesn’t exactly appear like he’s taking this ass reaming to heart as he just shrugs and gives his daddy the ole “so the fuck what?” look before he gets up and heads on back into the goat room or whatever it is and starts pounding the milk maid like he’s shoeing a horse. If ever there was an occasion where pussy saved a man’s life, well this would be it as all hell breaks loose in the dining hall. Eric rushes back only to find his mother and baby sister lying dead in a pool of blood as several vicious wolves are milling about. Eric draws his sword and goes after the one who’s making tracks to the door with his father’s crown in his mouth as some dark, hooded figure tells him to chill the fuck out and not try to be a hero. Poor Eric can only run back and listen to the dying words of his father as Eric vows to get vengence.
While all this is going on with Talbot and Eric, upstairs in one of the bedrooms crazy ole Franklin has Tara all decked out in a pristine granny looking white gown as she is tied up to all four corners of the bed by drapery cords. Uh oh, Talbot is really, REALLY gonna throw a fit over that. You two crazy kids had better be careful and not get any blood on them. Anyhow, poor Tara is really doing her best to act like she’s just really down with all this crazy and is trying to keep Franklin on the happy side of psychopath. Awe, come on Tara. Don’t be harshing Franklin’s buzz! He just wants to impress you with his texting skills. Franklin, you are fast. I’ll give you that. But I’m still not sure if you’re faster than my grandaughter. Really. I’m not kidding. But soon all good vampires have to retire for the day, so Tara just bides her time until she’s sure the house is so quiet that not only can she hear a cat piss on a piece of cotton, she can also hear a tadpole fart from under a bridge before she quickly makes her way out the front door and hauls ass across the front lawn. Damn, that kid can really hoof it! But apparantely not fast enough as she’s chased down by Coot the Wolfman. I cannot even begin to imagine what she must think when she sees that wolf turn into a naked man. I’d say that conjours up an ass pucker factor of at least ten. It sure would for me. Franklin is, understandably, all bent out of whack over the love of his life with the electric attraction trying to escape. He squalls big old bloody crocodile tears and sounds like a pineknot going through a buzzsaw as he wails out “why Tara, why? You don’t know how much you’ve hurt me.” Yeah Tara, you’d better come up with something quick as this little escapade of yours went over about as well as a pregnant pole vaulter. But our Tara, ever the quick thinker, blurts out that she tried to run away because she’s scared of all those other vampires. Tsk, tsk Tara, you just have no faith in your man. If there was anyone I’d trust my life and well-being to it would be this whack job. Later that day Franklin comes into the dining room and wants to know why she crying AGAIN, just tell him who’s upset her. Now ya’ll, I’d be a mite upset too. Nothing gets me squalling faster than not getting my three squares of vittles, and there’s no telling how long Tara’s been on starvation highway. I expect she’s so hungry that her stomach had rubbed a blister on her backbone and she could eat a rag off a sore toe. But not daylillies. She can’t eat daylillies. Have you ever tried them Tara? I’ve always heard that enough mayonnaise will make anything edible. But no matter, as Franklin pulls out the piece de resistance. The promise of a trip to Shoney’s in Vicksburg AND a marriage proposal. And said all the good ones are already married?
Meanwhile, back in Bon Temps we have Sam and the whole drama with mama ‘n ‘ them. He’s decided to give them a place to hang Joe Lee’s piss yellowed skivies as Joe Lee and Tommy are hard at work throwing big trash bags and glaring with all the “FUCK YOU, NO! FUCK YOU” looks of a father and son who obviously have a great bond between them. Not. Soon Terry Bellefluer shows up, all but pissing himself with excitement because he’s gonna move in and play house with Arlene. I think we need to check back with him in a few months and see if he’s still this excited. Flower wilting morning breath from a pregnant woman who has just hurled will tend to snuff the excitement out of anyone, even Terry. Anyhow, Sam gives Tommy a job at Merlotte’s where in no time at all Lafayette has Tommy outside explaining all the fine points of different blunts when Jesus shows up. Lafayette is convinced that his crazy ole mama has died, but it seems that Jesus just wants to tape his ass.
Night shift at Merlottes is one busy muthafucker. Arlene is still throwing hissyfits over being overworked, she’s terrified of looking Jessica in the eye, Jessica is all upset from seeing Hoyt with some other chick and is fuckin’ with Arlene about tips and Joe Lee is screaming at Tommy over the phone. Sounds like my house on Saturday night. Anyhow, later Tommy and Sam are piled up on the sofa at Sam’s place discussing the varieties of cat calls when Joe Lee shows up throwing another example of a sprayed roach fit. Sam is all like “wtf?” as he’s trying to figure out why Joe Lee is so off the chain. Tommy’s not saying, but Sam knows it’s some Very Bad Shit. Anyhow, thankfully he throws Joe Lee out on his itchy, drunk ass as he give Tommy the ole stinkeye and demands to know what’s going on. “Nuttin” says Tommy.
There’s some more stuff going on with Jason, the sheriff’s department and chasing Crystal Norris. But quite frankly I don’t even care, and I don’t think you do either. So I’m just skipping that cause this thing has grown longer than Franklin’s fangs.
Upstairs at King Russell’s, Bill is flopped out on the bed as he tries to figure out how he went from being the most favoritest vampire at the mansion to thinking that he probably couldn’t even pay anyone to piss down his throat if his guts were on fire when dumb ole Coot comes busting through the door. He immediately earns a loud hoot from me as he hollers out “kinda edgy ain’t you batboy” as Bill flies into the air in attack mode. Classic. Anyhow, Coot just never knows when to keep his yap shut as he starts to goad Bill about his little piece of Bon Temps country ass. Bill just completely nuts up and gives Coot what for, along with those beefy burly guards and manages to get his ass out of there. In the process he completely destroys that special bed that Talbot had such a hard on over and I got the feeling that’s not gonna win Bill any extra points. But Bill’s all about finding Sookie now, and find her he does. Sookie hears Alcide call her and she walks into the room to see Bill standing there in all his hotness. She runs into his arms and I swear I don’t know how she stopped herself from dry humping him right then and there, but no matter because King Russell and his ever loyal band of lupine idiots come in the door and captures Sookie, but not before she shows them she’s got magical skills of her own as the ole lightening bolt shoots from her hand again as King Russell throws back his noggin and crows “FANTASTIC!”
Friday, July 23, 2010
Alcide Hervoux is hunched over, in all his magnificent shirtless glory, as Sookie plays Nellie Nurse and is cleaning the blood from his back with what appears to be a bottle of alcohol and some gauze. Yow! Talk about your Burn Notice! Anyhow, as he's trying to explain to her about how he feels about Debbie, the Sook's phone rings. It's Bill. And it don't look good. He proceeds to inform Sookie that he's shaking the dust of telepath off him and moving on. Sookie is, of course, heartbroken. Especially when she hears Bill tell her that where he is the only thing open after midnight are legs, namely Lorena's, as The Evil One coyly and smugly nuzzles up to him, slithering like a bitch snake in heat. But it's all a lie, cause Bill's face looks like his favorite dog just died as he hangs up the phone. As Alcide and Sookie commiserate over some Charmin and discuss who does and doesn't have a nutsack, Lorena decides to put the moves on Bill again and try to take another magic ride on his Chilly Willy. But Bill ain't having none of it. Actually he gives her a look that is colder than an aluminum shitcan on the shady side of an iceburg as he drives home his point with a mighty right hook that would make the Bronx Bomber proud as he sends her flying into the hallway, then slams shut those silver encrusted doors. Ouch! Another Burn Notice.
Poor Sam! He's once again deeper than a hog whore's cooter in problems that he just can't solve. But he's gonna try. As he runs outside of Merlotte's hollering for Tommy to fly back to the home roost, he starts to sniff the air like he's getting a ripe whiff of some sort of vittles being cooked. I just love it when he and Bill sniff the night air, like they're two prized redbone hounds who are about to tree a coon. Anyhow, he finds Melinda and Joe Lee using his parking lot like it's an RV campsite. They've fallen on "hard times". Sam really lays into Melinda about Tommy's trying to rob him and that he thinks they showed up only to take advantage of him. Melinda seems somewhat contrite and sorry for what's happened, but the only response from Joe Lee is that Tommy just makes his ass itch. I dunno Joe, I'm going out on a limb here, but I'd say the ass itching hails from those nasty briefs you insist on wearing. Just a thought. And I hear Desitin does wonders for an itchy ass. It works at my house.
Sookie is sitting up beside a sleeping Alcide ( I wonder if Alcide howls in his sleep. You remember how Sam use to *whoof, whoof, growl* in his sleep? Just stands to reason. ) crying her eyes out as her phone rings. It's Tara. Seems Tara has had some entertaining problems of her own as Franklin Mott has managed to track down the love of his life. He's really some twisted fuck. Actually he acts like once upon a time his engine was running, but since there was nobody to drive it, he just gave up and turned it off. He, of course, glamours Tara into letting him in the house as he picks her brain about everything Sookie and Bill related. He seems surprised to learn that Sookie's a telepath and then he insist on Tara calling Sookie up to find out where she is. Anyhow, Tara is being completely mind-fucked by Franklin as she tries to convince Sookie to let her come and do the ole bff thing. But Sookie either isn't in the mood for a heart to heart or else she's gonna look under the covers and check out Alcide's "equipment" before long and had rather not have any company. Rats! Franklin is foiled again. But that Franklin, he knows how to make the best of a bad situation. He goes in fang deep for some Tara plasma as she screams her head off. Love hurts, love scars.
Oh my. Sookie The Vampire Fucker is sitting up in bed as she sees Eric come floating down to her window, like some gigantic misquito. I wonder how long his holding time is? I mean, if she left him out there, how long could he hover before he fell like some peanut-ladden turd? Just wondering. Anyhow, she, of course, invites him to come inside after inquiring if all vampires can fly. He replies by asking if all humans can sing. Well, yes and no. You see, there are some humans who can sing and don't know it, there are some humans who can't sing and still don't know it. Like a certain lady at my church. She has labored under the illusion that she can sing for quite a spell now. In reality she sounds somewhat like a mule passing wind after chewing on bumblebees for a few days. But back to Eric.....he comes inside and Sookie just blows him away with her talk of smelling his memories of how he played by the north sea as a child. I tell ya, Eric about lost the snap in his elastic with that one! I wonder what my childhood memories would smell like? Chicken coop shit and biscuits a bakin'? Then Sookie drops her robe to reveal a killer body all decked out in next to nuttin' as she shows him a few of those moves he's only dreamt about. Alas, it's but a dream, as he snaps the fuck out of it as he watches with all the enthuisium of me watching two roaches fuck as Yvetta gyrates around the pole before she finally gives up and skulks away. I don't care what he says, the boy has caught a bad case of Sookie Nookie fever.
Layfayette is practically going off the chain as he tries to get in touch with Tara so he can tell her she's getting his old car. He really does love his train wreck of a cuz, but all he's getting is her voicemail, so he holla's out about a dozen "hooka's" before giving up. Ya see, Tara is otherwise occupied. She's currently spending time sitting on the throne. Now normally that wouldn't be such a bad thing, depending on how badly you needed to go, but Franklin Mott, Bon Temps current whack job and chief engineer for the Bipolar Express, has tied her to the toilet and has taped her mouth shut. Guess if you have to be held hostage someplace, sitting on the shitter is one of the better places to be. For me anyhow. Lord knows how many times I'd already be peed by the time he returned. And it's all worth it, cause eventually Franklin returns with a lovely bouquet of flowers that looks as if he fished them out of the dumpster behind the local Winn Dixie. Yessiree, he's a man of means in his tight little jeans. And he has exciting news! They're going on a road trip! As they drive on through the night on the way to Jackson, they pass a sign advertising Slappy's Snack Shack, Persimmons and Cherries. Franklin waxes poetic that if there's one thing he misses about being human, well then it's fruit. Well, if anybody would know about being a fruit, it'd be you Franklin. Cause you're a real hardcore Fruit Loop. I'm jes' sayin'.
Well, it does look as if that crazy Sookie is bound and determined to get back inside Lou Pines. Seems there's gonna be some bullshit excuse for an engagement party for Cooter and Debbie Pelt (fantastic name for a werewolfette btw) and since Alcide just can't resist rubbing cayenne pepper in his wound by watching her get initiated into the Operation Werewolf Pack, he's made his mind up that he's going. Sookie will need a disguise since she's already been seen and all but cooter mauled by a member of the F U Crew. Alcide's sister Janice comes over with all her disguising tomfoolery, including rub-on tattoo's, and before long we have a new woman on our hands. Sookie looks like Emma Peel has decided to go all hookah. Once inside Lou Pines, it's a free for all as Alcide can't be seen hangin' all up on her. She somehow winds up at the bar right next to the aforementioned cooter mauler and she has no choice but to play the part of bar 'ho. To prove that she's a real down gal and she's game for anything, she starts tossing back shooters with a resounding "fuck yeah!' until I thought surely she'd be as drunk as Hogan's hog before the night was over. But this was just a warm up for the big show. While all of these shennigans are going on, King Russell and our Billy Boy are having what we around here refer to as jaw time. Russell is grilling Bill on all his duties as errand boy for Queen Sophie. That Russell, he's really something. He blows more hot air than a corn eating horse and Bill - well he's acting more slippery than hog fat on a frozen pond. But finally Bill tells Russell that he worked as a "procurer" for Sophie as he finally just gives up and lights that damn cigar that Russell all but shoves down his yap. He also spills the beans about Sophie's problems with the Internal Fuckin' Revenue and how she's making Eric sell V for her. Russell's just so damn tickled! But Bill makes sure that ole King Russ knows that Bill expects something special in return. He wants what we all want. Lorena's skank ass permantely and absolutely deader than road kill.
Meanwhile, back at Merlotte's, Jason is bitching cause he and Hoyt can't get their beer fast enough, Arlene is about to sling another hissy fit over being overworked and overstressed, Jessica is trying to learn the ropes of being a hostess with the mostest, and Kenya the Smartass Police Officer is hanging out at the bar lamenting on what a shit deal she's being delt. It does seem as if Sheriff Dearborn has decided to hang up his hemorrhoid cushion and retire. Andy Bellefluer, who btw is so full of hot air that he could blow up an onion sack, is giving Sheriff Dearborn a rousing toast as he's presented with some new kickass cowboy boots. Finally Jason looks around to see just what's holding him back from being the center of everyone's world and comes face to face with himself from ten years ago. You know sometimes Jason is so dumb that if his brain were made of leather he wouldn't have enough to make a saddle for a junebug, but this time he really nailed it. He gave QB1 of 2010 something to think about.
Layfayette, our businessman de jour, has arrived in the little town of Hotshot. He's decided to expand his V-selling territory. But for some reason the powers that be just don't seem to be interested. Layfayette is jumping about, smiling and grinning like a goat in a briarpatch, really laying on his best sell job. But it ain't working, as in he's about to get his ass kicked to Spokane and back, and even worse than that, rednecks are fuckin' with his new wheels. Now we all know that Laffy can whop ass with the best of them, but he's no match for 3 or 4 of these fuckers. He's just on the verge of really getting his ass laid out when Eric the Impaler shows up. And closes the deal. As they ride off into the night and Eric chides RuPaul about his lack of selling skills, Eric's phone rings. It's Pam. And is she in a tizzy. Ole Skull Face has decided to raid Fangtasia cause Eric's been sold down the river by Sophie Anne. As Eric gets there in warp speed, he's terrified to see that Pam's been strung up and is being poked and proded with the silver tipped cane of the Magistre. Mean ole fucker. Anyhow, in desperation Pam just completely throws Bill under the train as she hollers out that Bill is the one responsible for the V selling and Eric finally gets his thumb out of his ass and verifies that she is telling the truth and he's just on the verge of tracking down that back stabbing, V selling dipshit Bill Compton. The Magistre tells them that he didn't come to the camel's house looking for wool, so they had better have this shit taken care of within 24 hours or else Pam will be resting permantely in the marble orchard.
King Russell feels like gettin' down to the club, so he and the other two muskateers take off in the royal limo. As they arrive near the friendly confines of a strip joint, Russell orders Bill to find out if his procuring skills are still sharp. Bill ain't really down with this shit, but he reluctantly climbs out and makes his way into the club. And looking hotter than two rats fuckin' in a wood sock, I might add. Dayum! He looks around like he's selecting a ripe watermelon for a Fourth of July picnic until something catches his eye. Poor kid. She's unloved, unwanted, completely jaded by life and all alone in this world. Bill really hates what he's been ordered to do and looks like he's just as soon eat a shit sandwich with mustard than take that poor girl out to the limo, but what choice does he have?
While this is going on in the girlie club, Russell has a little errand of his own. He departs the limo, leaving Lorena alone and telling her to feel free to start without him if their little midnight snack arrives before he returns. I don't know about you, but to me Lorena kinda looked like Big Pussy Bonpensiero looked when Tony and the gang came to get him for a little fishing trip. Scared shitless. But alas, no harm will come to our favorite vixen. Meanwhile inside Lou Pines, it's time for communion. Debbie Pelt has been all but stripped nekkid, lifted into the air and tossed through the crowd like she's a pizza crust or something before finally being deposited on the stage. A wolf pelt is draped across her back and then the weird shit really starts to happen. Russell opens up a vein, fills up some shot glasses and the festivities begin. Debbie is branded like a prized heifer, Coot turns into a wolf and before Sookie knows what's what, the entire bunch, including Alcide, starts to morph into big bad wolves. Last we heard of Sookie she was hauling ass faster than green grass through a goose towards the backdoor of Lou Pines.
Oh shit, I don't even want to describe what takes place in that limo. Poor kid. And I'll just leave it at that.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Poor Talbot is about to have a meltdown over the injuries suffered by his special tapestry rug given to them by the Lord of Glen Daverdoee or something like that, in 1387. I swear, that boy's got more airs than an Episcopalian and there's just something about him that gives me the feeling that most nights all his biscuits ain't baked. Anyhow, King Russell tells him to just chill the fuck out as a burned up mess of a Lorena gets up and shakes her head at Bill as if to say "you really need to try and control that temper" while Bill's fangs are still hanging down to his cajones as he glares at her. I about blew a gasket when King Russell tells Bill that in the kingdom of Mississippi their tolerance level for unprovoked violence is nil. Excuse me??? Mississippi is the top dog when it comes to unprovoked violence! Anyone remember Jim Crow's south? Again, I'm jes' sayin. But no matter, all will be forgiven if Bill will just give up his human telepathic half-fairy annoying as hell little waitress or at the very least turn her, and pledge his loyalty to no one but King Russell. All this talk of having to give up that incredible Sookie Nookie just leaves Bill looking severely constipated and extremely forlorn. Poor little feller. Such a sad little face.....
Does Bon Temps have only one motel? Anyhow, it looks like Tara and Bon Temps newest vampire, Franklin Mott (who btw looks like he was turned while in the throws of full-blown meth addiction) have checked into one of those 5-star rooms and are having some sort of weird, vibrating tantric like sex. Franklin throws his head back , hissing like he's a tomcat or something. Actually, it looks like someone shoved a huge vibrator on high speed up Franklin's ass and he's about to have an epileptic seizure. In fact, it's so powerful and earth-shaking that Tara's eyes roll back in her head and she gets a little of the whole-lotta-shakin-goin'-on effect too. She hollers out for him to bite her, but for some reason he doesn't. Well shit. I just hate when that happens. Things get even more intense as she moans while he flips her on her stomach and hops on back. And for Tara's sake, I'm hoping and praying that his greeting card landed in the right box if you know what I mean and I think that you do. But our Tara is a love-em-and-leave-em kind of girl now, so she waste no time hoping up and throwing on her clothes and leaving Franklin's cheese to twist in the wind. That guy just asks too damn many questions!
Well ya'll, Sam all but comes right off the spool as he flings open the door at the Mickens palace and lets Tommy know that he doesn't appreciate the ole bird-turning trick that all but got him turned into a greasy road pizza with re-tread tire tracks all over it. Now ya'll, this is one of the creepiest and most revolting things I've seen on this show. And we all know there have plenty of them to choose from. I swear, when Sam flung the door open and Joe Lee hopped up off that sofa with his nasty-assed briefs, rubbing down his wanker as it all but flew up out of his fly, I about threw up into my mouth. I know we have discussed this before, but I do believe it bears repeating. It was enough to put me off dick for the rest of my life. I ain't kidding. Anyhow, Sam ain't staying, but just came by to ream Tommy a new one and tell everyone good-bye. Yeah, right Sam. Getting rid of a massive case of termites will look like child's play compared to dumping that bunch. Especially when they show up out of the blue for a little surprise visit at Merlotte's cause, well, they didn't have anything else to do. Like maybe, work? Wash their nasty-assed underwear? Anyhow, Sam looks less than thrilled to see them, but then he feels ashamed of himself as he offers them anything they want for lunch. Judging by the reaction of Joe and Melinda, you would think Sam had just offered to buy them a new house and a Mercedes. Jeez, I heard the chicken fried steak was real good, but I didn't know it was that good. But, of course, before the evening is over he has a showdown with Mr. Father Doesn't Know Best. Besides shoving liquor shots at under-age Tommy, God knows what else is going in that family. I was real proud of Sam for standing up to Joe and all but running them out of his joint. Somehow, I see a lot of heartbreak in this storyline for Sam as he is awakened later that night by his alarm system. It appears that brother Tommy had a brillant idea to take the ole five-fingered discount with what was in Sam's safe. Lucky for Sam he didn't succeed.
There's nothing like an ill-timed phone call to mess up a good evening of putting sauce on a well used Estonian taco. Which is what Pam is busy doing as the phone rings at Fangtasia. It's Jessica, and she got a bit of a problem. Seems Mr. Dead Fucker/Trucker has flown the coup and she hasn't a clue as to what she should do. Now really, you vampires just ain't doing this kid right. Nobody has time for her, nobody has bothered even a twit- whit to teach her any of those import vampire survival skills. Like where and how to dispose of a dead body. She's got a perfectly good cemetery outside her front door just going to waste. Bill, your maker skills just suck. I know you can't help the situation you're in now, but you should just ditch all that "humanity" crap and show her this stuff. Buck the fuck up and get the new Windows 7 program entitled "Maker For Dummies". I think there's even one for Mac called "How To Be A Dynamic Maker In Three Months Or Less". But since you're just too damn busy being kidnapped and held against your will, there's another vampire who's more than willing to take up the slack. Like for instanceTara's hump for the night, Franklin Mott, when he comes knocking on the door of the Compton joint. Jessica is, of course, flamboozled when she realizes that vampires can enter the home of another vamp without being invited and this is yet one more thing that nobody bothered to tell her. And Frankie's mama raised him right, cause he doesn't come empty handed. You should always bring a gift for the hostess, no matter if it is only a rotting ole head in a gift bag. It's the thought that counts. My favorite line of the night? "You sure got some purty lips girlfriend". But he's right. Jessica does have some purty lips. "like a dollop of strawberry jam floating in a glass of milk". (thanks, Mad Men)
Next morning at Merlottes, Sam is explaining to Sookie about his finding that fucked up family of his as she explains to him about Eggs. Sam, ya know, you might want to put in a drive-in branch of some sort of funeral home in your parking lot. It will save on the transportation. Anyhow, Sookie tells Sam that she's gotta be gone for a few days to looks for Bill. While this conversation is going on our favorite red-haired waitress is being probed by some sort of magic cooter wand at the OB/GYN. It sure didn't looks like it was much fun. Seems she's got her a little pretend-Cajun crawfish heading her way and it don't appear to be Terry's. But she lets him think it is cause he just goes into excitement overdrive when he finds out about the little critter. Awe, he's just so damn sweet and needy. As Tara is busy wiping off tables (did anyone notice when she was pulling a draft beer for Jason that the beer was called Turbo Dog Beer?), the phone rings and it's Mike Spencer, the local coroner and funeral home feller that we've seen entirely WAY TOO MUCH of last season. I'm still having issues eating Ball Park franks. I may never get over it. But he is just calling to tell Tara that he's about to plant Eggs and would she like to come over? Of course she does and while she's there she and Sookie patch up things, especially after learning that Sookie paid for Egg's funeral. So now they are once again bff's as all is forgiven.
Those two being at the cemetery is also the perfect excuse for another Bill flashback. As the light fades away we see a large marker with "Thomas Charles Compton" on it start to fade away as the cemetery starts to look like an older version and the headstone slowly disappears. Bill Compton, dressed in old style clothes, stealthly and cauctiously makes his way across the cemetery. I know he's looking down cause he wants to make sure he's taking the right path, but to me it looked like he wanted to be sure he didn't step in a big, hot steaming pile left by some stray mutt. He stops when he sees his home and slowly makes his way up the steps. He is momentarily startled to see a saucer with vinegar and a sponge on the porch. It seems that this was a signal to visitors that someone had passed away from some sort of contagious illness inside the house and perhaps they shouldn't stay, but as Bill leans down to give it a whiff, the door is opened and it's his wife Caroline. Who, of course, is startled and surprised to see a man she thought had died at least 3 years ago. As she tearfullly and joyfully falls into his arms, he is saddened beyond sad to hear of the fate of his children. He is heart-broken as he walks into the parlor and sees his little dead son, covered in pock sores, lying in a tiny wooden coffin. As poor Caroline rushes to comfort a sobbing Bill, she draws back as she notes that he's colder than a Minnesota well-digger's ass and what's up with those bloody tears? As her reason and sanity momentarily leave her, she shoots him in the upper arm in an attempt to defend herself from this "devil". This just breaks poor Bill's heart. I swear, this entire scene was so heart wrenching. Especially when she about pisses her pantaloons when Bill's upper arm grows back after she blew it off with that double aught-six. Yeah honey, I'd be mopping the floor too. Now I have to be honest here, I wasn't especially impressed with the whole Caroline thing. I mean, she just looked entirely too young and healthy to have suffered through not only 4 years of a war where folks all but starved to death, but those terrible years of poverty, starvation and deprivation that followed in the south after the war. But there she was, wearing a new looking dress and looking rather well-fed. It just didn't jell for me. But anyhow, that doesn't matter as before long that evil bitch Lorena shows up. She really angry that Bill defied vampire logic and went to see his human family. Truthfully, Lorena was much more understanding and tolerant of Bill than he was of Jessica. But as Bill drives the wooden grave marker into his little son's grave as Lorena's re-enforces her point, poor Bill just sobs like his heart is broken. Damn.
We musn't forget about The Enstein of Bon Temps, our boy Jason. He's about to take the exam to become one of Bon Temps finest. As he grabs forty winks inside his Renard Parrish road crew truck, he has himself quite a nightmare about taking that test. Everyone there, including Sheriff Dearborn, has a bullethole in the front of their forehead. AND Jason has no pants on. Now ya'll, don't think me overly critical. But enough with the damn bullethole in the forehead thing. We need to move on with this one. I sure hope it doesn't get dragged all through the next 9 episodes. We don't need to try and feed this dead possum all season long. I'm jes sayin'. But as Jason is deep in la-la land, he is rudely awakened by fellow roadcrew member Layfayette, who is about to get a good case of the ass at Jason for laying up in the truck taking a nap. Layfayette, I don't blame you. I'd be pissed too. About that time Hoyt starts bellowing loud enough to dry up the milkcow as he uncovers a dead body which, according to Hoyt, "ain't got no head. The hands are gone too!" Yeah Hoyt, that would skeeve hell out of me too. As the usual suspects show up to inspect the crime scene, Sheriff Dearborn has himself a snot-slinging hissyfit as he announces that he's had all of this horseshit he can take and takes off all his Official Sheriffin' Shit and gives it to Andy as he turns and hauls his polyp-riddled ass to the house. Well, ok.
Since Eric had his werewolf snack on top of Sookie's front door rug, she is hard at work scrubbing the blood off of it when she heard a echoy voice in her head. Ya'll, that's how she hears stuff. It's not regular like talking person to person, it's all echoy and hollow sounding, like you're hollering from the outhouse door on a cloudy morning. She's picking up on something about Eric saying she had a hot little blonde ass, so she jumps up and tries to take the aforementioned hot little ass into the house. But not fast enough as someone grabs her as she gets inside the door. It's Alcide Hervoux, and BOY IS HE FINE! Looking Large and In Charge! Jeez, I about slid out of my chair as the faucet turned on down there where those lady bits are located. I felt slicker than cat snot. Anyhow, he explains to her that Eric Northman sent him to watch out after her while she's gone to Jackson. Now that's a road trip I could enjoy! You can just look at this man and tell he's as much cattle as he is hat. Which is a very good thing, cause WE know who we're dealing with. She'll get a feller killed quicker than a monkey can jack off. For some reason Alcide thinks it's a good idea for the two of them to visit the oldest were bar in Mississippi. It's called Lou Pines and it's a scary/cool looking place, much like Fangtasia. But Sookie displays no fear as she morphs into vixen mode and before long she's gotten the attention of that dumb dipshit who's one of Bill's kidnappers. As he bum-rushes her into what I presume must be The Fuckin' Room and makes a grab for that Incredible Sookie Nookie, she screams as Alcide rushes in and throws a punch. Which, of course, only earns him a nice ass whupping. But friends of Alcide's come to the rescue and those two manage to get out of there with all their parts still intact.
While all of this is going on (shit, there's more stuff going on here than at a John Edwards pool party) we hear the sound of a car horn blowing. It's Eric and he's decided to pay an impromptu visit to his favorite dealer, Layfayette. Now ya'll, Layfayette just ain't in no kind of mood for Eric time tonight. He's had all he wants of Eric AND Pam. But what choice does he have? So he climbs into the car with all the enthusiasm of me going for a colonoscopy. Truthfully Layfayette, I'm just as puzzled as you are as to why Eric is handing over the keys to this fine, expensive ride. It's a gift from Eric. But, I fear, not without many, many strings that will eventually wind up hanging your ass when you least expect it. But what are ya gonna do? While we're discussing these two, there's something I must mention. I don't know what it is, but the chemistry between those two is just palatable. I don't mean sexual chemistry, but it's just something about those two in a scene that just tickles me spitless, almost like a demented and twisted version of The Fonz and Ritchie Cunningham. I just love it!
Whew! Finally, the end begins to approach as we see Cooter, the pack leader of that fucknutted bunch of weres, trying to explain to King Russell just what happened to "Johnson" as a lucious looking Bill slowly saunters in wearing a super-cool off-white dinner jacket. Holy. Shit. That's all I'm sayin'. Lorena snarks that it's Eric Northman who's to blame for that one cause he has a "perverse interest in that waitress". Jealous much Lorena? Anyhow, in an attempt to get Talbot out of the room, the king admonishes Talbot for neglecting to offer Cooter something to drink. Talbot's snoot meter goes into high gear as he gets up and and with much eye-brow raising smarms out "Zima, right?" You'd think he had been asked to bring an empty pickle jar of stump likker moonshine from the way he flounces away. And Lorena is certainly one pissed off bitch as she stand there listening as Bill renounces his allegiance to Louisiana's Queen Sophie and pledges his loyalty to King Russell Edgington of Mississippi. Cooter looks like he really doesn't give a ripe shit, but Lorena's head practically explodes as she realizes that all bets are off as far as her getting the pleasure of killing Sookie. Bill? His face says it all. It's "fuck you."
Bill returns to his silver-doored room with one more splash of O negative for the road as he sheds his jacket. And just because no one invited her in doesn't stop a bitch in love, as Lorena walks in behind him and closes the door. She wants to tap his ass and I can't say as I blame her. But he's having none of it. He's just given up the one he loves, his miracle, and he's in no mood to be pestered. Especially by the likes of her. But sometimes things just happen and there just isn't any explaining it. And this appears to be one of those times. As she rubs herself all over him and plants a liplock on those magnificent lips of his, he just loses it and lays into her neck as that insipid, evil little fool utters some shit about how much she loves him. Well, that wasn't the sweet nuttin's he wanted to hear. He rips open her dress and pounds into her like a nail gun at a barn raisin'. Well, I reckon he did. Now I have discussed this very subject with a few friends. What does he have, a magical zipper? I heard no sound of pants being unfastened, no sound of zipper being opened. How did he get his dick out? Hell, we didn't even get to see his ass! Once again, disappointment has been slung upon me. Shit. Damn. No fair. Anyhow, as she claws his back he just loses all touch with himself and decides that he just cannot bear to look at her mug while he's nailing her ass to the bedsprings. So he does what any man worth his salt would do. He twists her head completely around so that she's forced to look at all those dust bunnies and dirty drawers the maid hasn't bothered to clean up yet. Weirdest thing I ever saw. As Bill has her head all turned around like she's a twisted sister, she eekes out that she does so love him as Bill completely loses his cool and just screams and screams himself into madness. Personally, I think he was going into a nutdown cause he realized that he just banged Lorena and forgot to take his dick out.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Cooter? Seriously? For those of you fortunate people who aren't personally acquainted with me, then I reckon you don't understand why this just had me more tickled than a fat man trying to pick toe jam. See, in my neck of the woods, we refer to the Big Kahuna, the Big Ram-her Jam-her, the Monster Truck Pit, the Slip That Berthed A Thousand Ships, as a cooter. Now I realize that a cooter is also some sort of turtle looking critter, but not at my house. Cooter stew, cooter soup and cooter pie might be served here on a regular basis, but not on a plate. Now that we've got that little bit of vital information out of the way and you've managed to slap yourself awake, shall we continue?
Well good Lord! Take it personally, will ya Bill? Looks like our boy just didn't take well to being jacked on by a bunch of werewolves. And he's not fuckin' around about letting them know just who the boss is as he tears it up by ripping off furry ears and other random body parts. That man is AWESOME when he gets pissed! Really reminded me of Eric last season, tearing up the ass (and not in a good way if you know what I mean and I think that you do) of Royce Alan Williams down in the danky stanky basement of Fangtasia. You just don't need to fuck with a vampire, and that's just all there is to it. Just as Bill is staring down the biggest, badest wolf of the whole pussweasely bunch, up on a lovely white steed comes riding the King of Mississippi. Who immediately orders the snarling wolf to "heel". Which he does with a pitiful yelp as Bill, totally recognizing royalty when he sees it, cowtows to the King. Which seems utterly riduclous to us regular-ass humans. Except I've been watching The Tudors and it seems perfectly normal to me. I AM THE KING OF MISSISSIPPI!! Anyhow, it appears that this pathetically stupid pack of weres were sent by King Russell Edgington on a special mission to abduct Bill Compton, but certainly not to take his blood. Which is pretty much what Bill wasted no time in informing the king of. "And...and....and they abducted me....and....and.....they took silver to me....and....and..... they drank from my blood..." He sounded just like my kids did when I came home from work, just couldn't wait to tattle about some kind of transgression. Bill, are you a tattletale? I'm just wondering if he's ever going to hang his britches on a nail. Please? Pretty please, with a dead wolf on top? Anyhow, this news of the wolfmen taking Bill's blood just pisses off the King and his face sorta morphs into Bad News For Somebody. So, he does what any king worth his salt would do. He shoots someone. He shoots that mentally challenged dipshit who not only lost an ear when Bill was ripping and roaring, but he was also riding on the top of Bill's car when it went careening down the embankment. Which further proves that he's an idiot. Another one bites the dust. Anyhow, to prove how sorry he is and what a top-notch hostess he is, the King holds out an arm for Bill to hop aboard his hoss. Bill momentarily tries to decline, but that "get 'yo tight little narrow ass up here on this hoss" look from the King pretty much squelched that shit. So off they ride into the midnight. And might I add here that I just love that hokey harpsichord music that plays whenever the king shows up? Like Vincent Price might be lurking behind a bush or something.
Now here's Tara, who's locked herself into Layfayette's bathroom, scarfing down handfulls of pills, all kinds of pills. Honestly, she looked just like me when I finally go nuts when I'm dieting and can't stand it any longer. A large bag of M & M's and there ya go. It's me. Yes, I admit it. I have the willpower of a gnat condom. Anyhow, Layfayette comes bustin' through the door and grabs Tara up, while Lettie Mae is still babbling some crazy-ass shit about Jesus as she realizes that she's completely screwed the pooch as far as looking after her daughter. Honestly, between you and me, I think God just needs to put those awesome smackdown smoting skills that He's been honing for, oh say, since the beginning of time, to good use and send her flying into oblivion. Nothing beats a good smoting. At least not where Lettie Mae Thornton is concerned. You do know the world will thank you for it.
And of course here we have Sookie running over to Fangtasia, looking for Eric to help her solve the riddle of what the mysterious werewolf mark is. Riddle me this Eric. What is it with her? She runs around pretending to hate your dead guts, yet she can't seem to stay away? But Eric doesn't mind that she's there, as he just sits there watching her and listening to her talk. He just doesn't seem to have a lot to say when she's around. I think it's because he can't speak. My school of thought is that the massive Johnson's he's hiding under the table has drained all the blood from his head and he can't move his lips or else he's completely hypnotized by The Eyebrows That Ate Bon Temps. What the fuck is up with those eyebrows? I can't seem to take my eyes off them. Did her make-up person have a huge chub for Joan Crawford? But not to worry about a thing, cause Sookie has some sort of drawing of the Nazi Werewolf Tattoo emblem and she shows it to him. He snarks out an order for Pam to take Jessica someplace, anyplace besides there, as he begins to try and find his voice. She accuses him of blowing her off, but really Sookie, him blowing you off isn't the kind of blowing that he has in mind. I'm 'jes sayin'. But anyhow, she leaves without many answers. Once again he goes into another Godric flashback, this time from WWII. Seems he and The Vapored One (Godric, Eric wishes he knew how to quit yew) pretended to be SS shitheels in order to find out who's fueling the werewolves with vamp blood, but unfortunately Godric has to snap the neck of whatever that thing was before they can learn anything. I'm beginning to think that those two Crime Fighters haven't figured out that the object is to keep the suspect ALIVE if you want to find out shit. While all this coyness, combined with secret trouser tenting is going on between Eric and Sookie, Pam and Jessica are spending some quality times together in the ladies room (I wonder what's on the door ? I know at Merlottes they have Bucks and Does on the restroom doors, but what would it be at Fangtasia? Vlads and Vladettes? Femorals and Himorals?) as Jessica tries to pick Pam's brain about what she should do about her dead fucker/trucker without Pam figuring out what's happened. Well Jessica, I don't know what Pam told you when I wasn't in earshot, but I'm pretty sure she didn't tell you to cuddle up in your little hidey-hole with that stinking, rotting son of a bitch. Yuck! Bleech!
Anyhow, back to Bill. As Bill is introduced to Talbot, King Russell's partner in wanker love for the past, oh, 7 or 8 hundred years or so (now that's a commitment!), Bill begins to realize just how screwed he is. Actually, he could probably shit out about a dozen or so Phillips heads. Especially when he is escorted upstairs to his "room" which features the highly prized bed of some Countess who had a thing for killing virgins and romping around in their blood. Hmmm, that bitch must be an ancestor of Lorena's. Anyhow, as the door firmly closes on solid silver doors, our boy Bill gets a look on his face that says it all. It's "Fuck. Me." Ok, if you insist............
I just have to say one thing: ALFRE FUCKIN' WOODARD!" Did she nail it, or what? Layfayette, in an attempt to make Tara snatch her head from her self-pitying ass, decides to drive her to the Meadowglade Nuthouse so she can see just what real crazy is. Just in case she decides to just give up and give in to the darkness that seems to be such a part of them. And I gotta say that I was just as surprised as Tara. I mean, I sure thought Layfayette's mama had gone on to the land of cloudless day some time ago. But it seems that she's still alive, imprisoned deep in the living nightmare that is schiznophrenia. But that doesn't matter, cause every sentence from her mouth was a holler-out-loud, fall from my chair funny. I don't even want to know if there was a hole in her pocket either. But if the way she kept digging around in there was any indication, I do believe she found a little something down there that made the days pass a little faster. I know it works for me.
If the sounds of Arlene hurling shrimp and taters into the shitcan at Merlottes is any indication, then it does appear like Bon Temps couple of the year will be getting a visit from a little ankle biter before long. God, I sure hope it doesn't have those fuckin' eyes that Jason is so fond of. It does appear that Arlene doesn't seem to be real tickled about it either. Terry? He ain't got a fuckin' clue. But he's never killed anyone by accident, so what else could a gal want in a father for her child? And besides, anybody who keeps a handgun in an institutional sized empty can of green beans is alright by me. That's a man you can count on. Just look at how man times he's saved Sookie's bacon.
I dunno.....there's something about that family of Sam's that just makes me want to go take an ass-scalding bath whenever that daddy of his, Joe Lee, shows up wearing those grimy, dingy "briefs". I swear, the sight of his one-eyed jack straining against the front of that nasty-ass fly (I don't even want to get a visual about what the skid marks must look like) just about puts me off men. *shudder* Talk about low quality pokes! If I were Sam's mama, I would pray to God that I get blessed with a limp-dicked muthafucker every single night of my life.
As Sookie makes her way home from Merlottes, she is startled to see Bachelor No. 2 waiting for her in the shadows of her front porch. I swear, I'm a Sookie/Bill shipper, but if the chemistry between those two gets any hotter, then they are both going to need some asbestos liners in their drawers. Damn. Eric, it might be about time for you to stop the gazin' and get to the grazin, if you know what I mean and I think that you do. And I don't think you'll be needing to twist any arms. I'm 'jes sayin'. Where's Bill? Bill? Bill who?
But right now Bill is busy enjoying his lovely dinner, tux and all, with the King and Talbot. He's been served some sort of tangerine flavored blood soup (I don't know about you, but my mouth is watering just thinking about it) followed by a main course of bullshit as the King begins to unveil his agenda. He wants to make Bill the sheriff of area 2 in Mississippi! On goodie, goodie! In return, there are secrets about Queen Sophie that King Russell is just positive that Bill can reveal. Which he can't, of course. I wonder if the King would be hopping up on his nut about marrying up with her if he knew that she owed the biggest, baddest blood sucker of them all, the fuckin' IRS, a whalenut of money? It does seem that Sophie, in addition to being a silly, annoying little twit, has become broker than a fiddler's bitch. As Bill sits there, trying his damnest not to give the king his vilest, most no-nonsense ole stinkeye - don't even mention trying even harder to keep his fangs where they belong - in comes Lorena. Bill is, shall we say, not especially proud to see her. Actually, he would be happier to see a raging case of bleeding hemorrhoids hanging from his ass. He completely loses it as that smug bitch purrs that she's just in time for desert. Well, I don't think so. Not unless dessert is Flaming Alaska as Bill flies into a rage and throws an oil lamp on her and watches as her sorry ass burst into flames. Can I get a high-five Bill?
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
When last season ended, we saw a post-meltdown Sookie running from the ladies room to shout out to anybody who actually gave a shat that "yes, yes Bill Compton, I will marry you!" Except.....well....his superfine ass appears to be gone. As in G. O. N. E. You know, like the wind. Hmmm.....there does seem to be skullduggery afoot, even tho not a soul in their right mind would blame him for tucking it in and fleeing the fuck out of there. Sookie, you sure do put the double o in stoopid. I mean really! The hottest, sexiest, sweetest and kindest vampire in the ENTIRE WORLD just handed you an awesome block of bling while proposing marriage to you with a voice that could melt a cooter made of marble, along with plane tickets to Vermont and all you can do is fuck it up? Poor baby, he just sat there, looking all stunned and hurt. And now he's gone. But where is he??
See, I figured there could be several good explanations for this mysterious disappearance. First, I wondered if perhaps he had arranged with someone he could trust in his vampire world to wait outside, with a plastic pretend silver chain, and if Sookie showed her ass and kicked him in the nuts like we all know she's capable of, then they could come inside and do a pretend kidnapping and get him the hell out of there. Enough is enough. You can work on your education and appearance, but you just can't cure stupid. OR maybe he suddenly remembered that he left his wallet in his dressing gown pocket after purchasing that ring from Mrs. Smallwood earlier in the evening and he had to get back before that French chick brought the check. He probably figured Sookie didn't have any money because she gave it all to Jason earlier so he could attend Vampire Killin' Camp (that went well), OR maybe he just forgot to set the DVR to record the finale of American Idol. Some things just can't be missed, no matter what the circumstances. But alas, no........
So our new season begins with Sookie hauling ass outside to the parking lot, hooten' it up and hollering "Bill, Bill......". The French hostess seems a little bit concerned about the rukus until she realizes what's going on, then her vampire-patience level drops considerably as she spits out that it's always fuckin' something with vampires. Lady, if you think vampires are a huge pain in the ass, just hang around Miz Stackhouse for about another 15 minutes. Case closed.
OH GOD!!! They're hurting my Bill! It seems that a wired up gaggle of v-juice loving biker looking dudes have taken him and are doing bad things to him. Really bad things, like sticking him with a red handled paring knife, biting him and treating his blood like it's the inside creamy center of a Cadbury Egg. Just lickin' that shit up. And acting all pervy while they're doing it. I think one of my favorite lines of the episode was uttered during this scene: "Oh shit, I got vamper juice all over my touring gloves". A line like this, spoken from the mouth of a v-juiced, clearly IQ challenged Nazified member of some werewolf related soon-to-be clusterfuck just cements the deal for me. Who in their right mind could stop themselves from loving a show like this? But not to worry, as stupid is as stupid does. Doesn't take my boy long before he's taken control of the situation and snapped the neck of the fucktard driving the car, which sends his beautiful blue BMW flipping off down an embankment. My poor, poor baby! Clearly in pain and weakened by his ordeal, he pulls himself free of the car and stumbles off into the darkness. I couldn't help but think that he looked an awful lot like me, lurching my way to the parking lot after spending way to many hours looking for shoes at the mall.
And speaking of clusterfucks, here we have the most pitiful girlchild on the planet, Tara Mae Thornton, kneeling by the side of the recently deceased Eggs as a white sheet is pulled over his face. When blood begins to seep through from the bullethole in the middle of Egg's forehead, well, it just broke my heart to see those huge crocodile tears cascading down her face and hear her sobs. Damn kid just can't seem to catch a break. But don't worry Tara! Sheriff Dearborn is on the job and if anybody can fuck up evidence and not even come close to solving a case, well it's him. His proudest moment in law enforcement came when he busted that notorious gang of candy corn thieves a few years ago, and since then his crime solving successes have become as dried up as mummy spit. And as we all know, without law enforcement, well we'd be no place as a society. As Tara completely loses her shit and lashes out at Arlene, Layfayette realizes there's no time like right now to get Tara and grab what's left of the tequila and bounce over to Sookie's crib. But, unfortunately, Tara's soon going nutso on her bff Sookie as she finds out that Sookie used her Magical Shit to help Eggs remember why and what he was. Soon Layfayette is having to pull Tara off Sookie like a fox terrier off a dead rat, so he decides it would be best to just crash at his place before things get any worse. Like maybe her nutcase mother showing up,who most days is at least two bubbles off plumb, spouting some of her usual craziness about how she and Jesus are going to take care of her baby. Well, maybe the good Reverend will be of some help too if he'd just stand still long enough for Lettie Mae to dry hump him. And another thing I've been noticing around here, with the exception of vampires, does anyone in that town even own a late model vehicle? I mean, come on! Sam has a safe just packed with the green stuff, yet that Bronco he drives is older than the passing of NAFTA.
And here in Bon Temps, we have another meltdown/crisis on our hands. Our prettiest boy, Jason Stackhouse, is also severely losing his shit as he all but Nascar's his pickup truck into his yard, where he goes inside and completely falls apart. Not even a bottle of beer from the fridge (the usual fail-proof remedy for what ails a redneck boy) can fix what's ailing him tonight. He's just completely and totally freaked out by what he did. I think I would be too. This is about more than his tiny little button sized brain can absorb and process. You know, I was just thinking, that if Jason made a wrong turn somewhere and wound up in Zombieland , those ghouls would get really pissed off about that little piece of nuttin' they had gotten ahold of. So Jason just sits there, like he's waiting for someone to show up and tell him what's he's suppose to do. Which is exactly what happens as Andy the Man With A Plan comes calling. His advice? Start screwing anything that moves. Or as he puts it "dick on, conscience off". Which, when you think about it, is just what Jason would be super-good at. But it doesn't seem to work out that way as his brain and his drain just can't seem to be able to work in unison these day. See, now normally our boy Jason would have the time of his fuckin' (literally) life with two hot and horny honies that he brings home for he and Hoyt to bang. But it just ain't working out, not even a hanky panky, nothing like a good spanky, can make Iron Mike stand up and pound the canvas.
Good Lord, but our cute little Jessica is having a shit of a time trying to take care of her almost/soon will be dead fucker trucker. And Sookie just keeps showing up, bugging the shit out of her with the "have you seen Bill, have you heard from Bill, do you know where Bill is" like a friggin' stuck-ass record over and over and over and over. Damn Sookie! Jessica don't know where the fuck he is! Get it? Now shoo, shoo, go away. Jessica's got a turning to do right now. And then, here come Hoyt, hanging on the door and whining like a lost puppydog. I can tell that Jessica really wants to see him, but right now she's busier than a cat covering shit on a marble floor and she's got more important things to think about. Like how she's going to keep Bill from reaming her a new one when he finds her latest project moldering and festering in his house. But I'll give one thing to her, she thinks fast on her feet. Sookie: "what in the hell is that SMELL?" Jessica: "possum died under the house". Well, I sure understand what she means. Those things sure can raise a stink when they crawl under there and die, especially in the south Georgia heat. God, I just HATE when that happens!
And here we have Sam, driving though the night with an address of someone in Magnolia Ark. taped to his dashboard. It appears he's going to seek out his birth parents and see what he probably doesn't really need to see. Something tells me that this is not going to turn out well. But what ever does turn out well for Sam? He's the posterchild for sad sackism. All the shit just seems to be drawn towards him. And I really hate that, cause he's so adorable and his ass is hotter than a welder's torch during a south Georgia summer. I just want to reach out and grab me a good handfull everytime he walks by my chair. And speaking of hot..............as Sam is looking up something in the phonebook, there's a sudden knock at his motel room door. Guess who it is? It's Bill, and he's shirtless and looking somewhat the worse for wear. But still looking fuckalicious. Sam looks a little stunned to see him there, but of course, being the nice southern boy that he is, he invites Bill inside. And I thought for a minute or two that he was REALLY gonna invite Bill INSIDE. If you know what I mean and I think that you do. But alas, no. We didn't get to see that hard Arkansas water firsthand, as that damn cellphone woke Sam up from his uber-erotic dream of Bill. Which, btw, relieved the pure-dee shit out of Sam. Actually, he looked more shook up than he did when he saw Eric go flying up into the nightair at Fangtasia, and he looked pretty skeered then. Sam, those vampers just skeeve the hell out of you, don't they?
While all this is going on, Sookie is still running around trying to find out what's happened to Bill. Of course one of her first stops is Fangtasia, where she encounters the ever charming smart-ass Pam, who's still my favoritest (is that a word?) vampire of all. But it appears that Sookie's not in the mood for Pam's lesbian weirdness as she's on a search-and-find mission and needs to see none other than Eric, the Big Man himself. And see him she does, as she skips down the stairs to the Royce Alan Williams Memorial Dungeon and finds Eric, completely naked, having uterus bruising sex with a hog-tied and meat-hooked Yvetta, Fangtasia's newest dancer. I swear, after watching this for about 15 seconds, I could feel my lady parts shriveling up and looking for someplace safe to hide. Like a tarapin does when a car is about to hit it. Anyhow, as Eric and Sookie engage in some verbal foreplay, it soon becomes obvious that Eric is telling her the truth and he really isn't hip to the shit of where Bill could be and who could have taken him. As Sookie puts her clit back into her britches and sashays back up the stairs, she hollers back (I see she's a holla-back girl) that he still owes her ten grand. Which causes him to smile, which is a good thing because before long the Queen and Magistar will be showing up, which will wipe that shit-eating grin completely off his face. It seems Eric has gotten himself into a bit of a pickle while trying to do the Queen's bidding. Will someone just go ahead and stake her, please? I can't stand her. She's like a whiny, spoiled little bitch who sees nothing but her own selfish wants and what I want is to see is her skank ass melting into a big shitcan of red, sticky goo. This impromptu visit from The Dynamic Duo in turn forces Pam to go and verbally molest my sweet Layfayette and all but cause him to piss himself as she terrifies him once again by telling him he has no choice but to sell what appears to be an assload of "V" before the sun rises.
OH MY GOD!!! Here he comes again!! I watched him come climbing up out of that black dirt, like some primordial sex machine, ferally sniffing the night air. I was really hoping that he'd taken his good dress pants off and hung them in a tree so's not to get them dirty, but no. Disappointed again. Are we never, ever going to see his ass, ever again? I'm heartbroken that he's not nekkid this time and he not climbing out, dick first, nailing the first piece of tail that happens to be walking by. Sookie, I know you like to think that he knew it was you , but really it could have been me just as well. He was just horny and hungry, in that order. He would have nailed a bullet wound. And little sister, let me tell you this. If anyone can satisfy a big-hanging man's hunger, whether it be plasmatic or spasmatic, well it's me. But as he climbed up out of that dark earth, I kept thinking to myself that surely he'd have to take off those pants cause he was bound to have loads of loose dirt in his cracks and crevices. And nothing is worse than having dirt or sand in places that God never intended a body to have dirt or sand in. Which is why I don't like the beach. No cooter sand for me, thank you very much. I kept hollering out "take off your pants and shake out that loose dirt" but he never did. At least not where I could see it. Sigh.......life just sucks sometimes.
As Bill makes his way to a house with lights in the distance, I kept thinking to myself "now Bill, we all know what happened to you one time when you made your way to a house with a light in the distance. Don't you remember? Things really went to shit for you and if I were you I'd rethink this plan". But does he ever listen to me? No. So here he goes, knocking on the door, where he's greeted by a sweet, little ole white-haired lady pushing an oxygen tank. Her name is Olivia, and she mistakes Bill for her son Stanley. He is soooo not a Stanley. She innocently asks him if he's hungry, and boy is he ever! He lays into Olivia with all the gusto and zest of me on a chicken leg at Sunday dinner. Soon we see him wearing a shirt of Stanley's (I think Sam and Stanley shop at the same place), as he ever so gently glamours all memory of him from Olivia and just to make me love him even more, he puts a mule-choking wad of cash in Olivia's hand and tells her it's from her son. Whom I get the impression is a real shitheel who doesn't pay much attention to his sweet ole mama. I laughed out loud when Bill asked Olivia where he was and she replied that he was in her house. Tickled the crap outta me. But when Olivia told Bill that he wasn't in no Louisiana parrish, but he was in Mississippi, honestly he got a look on his face like someone had sucker-punched him in the nutsack. But he ain't skeered of no howling wolves..........cause HE FED!!!