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Between Press Gang and Buffy The Vampire Slayer, I have spent thirteen years of my life with a crush on a brooding faux-English malcontent called Spike whose reason for being is to thwart my dreams of running a local paper/ ridding the world of evil. I consider this time well spent.
(There may be some of you devout Wronghottians who question the wrongness of these subjects. To those people, I would say that my parents would totally disapprove of both of these life choices, their romantic ladies ended up dead at least once each, and also I’m tired. HOLD ME TUMBLR).