Myrtle is a twisted old bitch.
Fiona hasn’t got the monopoly on that anymore, I guess.
Fiona will not go quietly into that good night.
She’s gonna claw and smoke and fuck and strut her way back into the light, bitches.
She will bury us all. Probably in heels.
I hate to say it, but the shine is wearing off this season of American Horror Story for me.
Too much talking, not enough crazy, fucked up, witchy shit.
Plenty of sex, though.
Did you really think Fiona wouldn’t be able to wriggle her way out of a little murder accusation?
That was Myrtle’s mistake.
Sometimes I like to run across a low profile, modestly budgeted horror movie and allow myself to watch it with an open mind.
Occasionally, it pays off.
But not all the time.
I’m happy to report that American Mary is more pay-off than pay-out (because I’m not gonna be spending a lot of time “paying it out?” You get it. It’s wordplay. Don’t scowl at me).