A hand on the knee is like, what, third base for lesbians?
The overalls are a bit much, though, Keelin. Calm down.
Just a look of crazed, infanticidal evil. And a bit of puke.
The Originals, as of this episode, is still fantastic.
But dragging back problems from Season 2 doesn’t make me optimistic for the future.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
I didn’t know The Originals needed an influx of shirtless hunks.
But I’m not complaining now that they’re here.
Except for Jackson. Fuck that guy.
Rebekah is the Sharon Strzlecki of the TVD/Originals-verse.
No, Rebekah isn’t too fazed by a voodoo knife to the face.
Just as I am not fazed by yet another excellent episode of The Originals.
It’s like pre seasonal decay TVD. It’s nice.
You know how the whole Harvest thing was really icky because it involved child murder and was therefore deeply morally uncomfortable?
Well worry no more, because now it’s okay because a magic new development renders such questions moot.
It certainly is.
Apols for the late post, but it was the Big Brother Australia finale tonight, and that’s pretty much the most important thing in my life.
And Tahan didn’t even win, so if I seem extra bitter, you know why.
And Camille. And Sophie.
And me, of course.
And Marcel just keeps getting more and more saintly. His attractiveness is seriously distracting.
Putting Queenie to shame. Wow.
You can’t argue with those opera gloves.
As Jafar finds out this episode.
Rebekah will take what she can get.
Another episode, and not only has The Originals kept itself above the waters of mediocrity, it might even be kinda fantastic.
We might have a successful spinoff on our hands.
“I’ve seen Star Trek. I know how this works.”
Another spinoff arrives.
You’re gonna have to bear with me, here, because I’m pretty weak on my Lewis Carroll knowledge.
But I do have access to Wikipedia, so there’s that.
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I Just Hate Everything
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