Hang on to your asses, people! The True Blood season finale is this Sunday night, and I dunno about you, but I plan to live that hour in sheer, bittersweet bliss by ordering a massive pizza, with extra garlic sauce, and getting sugar-drunk on M&Ms Sonic Blast…. the biggest one they can fit through the car window. And at some point, during my junk food coma, I might actually see some of the show. But seriously, it’s exciting that the show is coming to its conclusion, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather see it with than my best friend in the whole world, Mr. Anonymous McDonald (you might know him as Veritas), so I sure as hell hope he doesn’t watch it without me! Be sure to let me know in the comments how you plan to spend your Finale Night!
There are three previews for the episode, one is a re-run, but I’ve tossed it in at the end of this post, for those of you who for some reason, are unable to get your shit together and stay updated. Shame, shame. The one thing I don’t…. or well, really -refuse-, –to understand, is why they’re giving us such incredibly bland previews. Sure, it’s to keep all the good parts for the show, make ratings go through the roof, spike viewers up to somewhere around a kajillion… but couldn’t we have had like… you know, something a little cooler than….
Alcide Makes His Pitch
Because honestly, dude, Alcide, let me level with you here. The odds are sooo stacked against you. Two hot vampires are in love with Sookie right now. And she knows you like trailer trash. AND your ex is homicidal. AND she knows that at least once, while being a were, and I mean, come on, who hasn’t considered this, –but at least once, this guy has probably given himself a scrotal and anal cleansing with his own mouth. Just while in canine form, but still. Puke. She’s not going for that. It’s one thing to wish you could, guys, it’s quite another to turn into a big dog and then do it, and expect the cute blond to, knowing all this, wanna make out and have puppies. No way.
The last preview, and yeah, last, as in, they only shot us two for some reason, shows Tommy Mickens’ funeral. Sure, sure, respect for the dead, this Schlitz is for my fallen homey, etc., but couldn’t we have seen something more interesting than all four thousand jiggling pounds of Maxine Fortenberry trying to look sincerely grieved?
Tommy is Laid to Rest
Well, hopefully he went to heaven. Like, shifter heaven, where the furries roam freely, and interspecies sex is not only accepted but encouraged, may the varieties of Purina be endless, and so on. Let’s get to the good shit already!