Welcome to Kell

Ok, so I keep crying because I keep telling myself, Kripke wanted to end this here, this is what you would have been left with. This is what you would have had to think about, everyday for the rest of your sad, sad existence….

I feel like I’ve been in a 5 year ’on again, off again’ relationship and dude has FINALLY decided to propose. He’s down on one knee telling me how he can’t live without me, that I’m the one, and that he’ll NEVER treat me wrong, that our love will withstand the tests of time, that we’ll be TOGETHER FOREVER, even if  my ass gets as big as a door. I’m feeling so happy, so elated, so loved, when suddenly, out of no where, he slowly stands up and tells me that he’s certain we won’t make it and that he doesn’t love me, that he’d rather be with some ‘bad dye job’ blonde, cracked out, waitress, who lives in a 1 bedroom apartment with her 7 equally cracked out kids. And he leaves. Leaves me in a cluster fuck of emotions, which screw with my head every second of every hour of every day of every year…

Time passes, when SUDDENLY he reappears outside my house, like the creeper he is, waiting to yell ’Ha! Got You! You should have seen the look on your face!” THEN we both fade to black with no shots or flashes of what would have happened, how our relationship would have been resolved. Nothing. Nada. Zilch…….

But THANK GOD AND THE CW! that it will be back for another season. Sans Kripke as a major executive producer. Here’s where I get twisted. I feel like a sick masochist…I’m happy that Kripke won’t be writing anymore sick mind fucks; However, I know Master Kripke is the only one I want to get mind fucked by, because, let’s face it, he is the patron saint of giving mind fucks.

I’m continuing the torture for as long as they give it, and I’m not saying my safe word….Thank you Master, I want another season filled full of mind fuck.