I know, you're all, "My CIA-Zombie-Killing-Team is better because they are so pretty and my boyfriend is Scottish. And my team can only kill zombies with guns instead of their awesome athletic bodies. Except, maybe for Casey, because he is badass."
I hear you.
LISTEN!! Kevin said I am suppose to limit my computer time this weekend. Dude, I have porn to write!! Bathtub!porn and Angel!porn - (but not bathtub-angel porn because Castiel likes showers!) - and...does he even understand these things? I mean, I use my left arm for pretty much everything and he's all, "Take it easy on your shoulder, stay off the computer," and I have ZOMBIES TO KILL WITH PLANTS and I used all my computer time already and now I am using my Zombie-Killing-Plant-Time to argue with you over the stupidity of your team somehow thinking they are better than my team just because Eric Close is on your team.
Whatever. You and I both know he is only half the man he should be when Enrique isn't with him anyways.
YOU WANNA GO, WOMAN!! BRING IT!
Also, did you see this...it looks like not everyone thinks Eric and James are made for each other - (no, I don't have a problem distinguishing a difference between the actors and the characters they play...why do you ask?)
SOMEONE SHIPS BILLY/RICK, SO, HA!!!
I don't get it, I still say Billy/Michael/Casey threesome ftw.
I just watched that episode of South Park last night where the boys get served by some street dancer kids. The next time it happens, the boys dance back. Then Stan's mom is all, "Good job, Randy. You told Stan next time he got served, he should dance back. So he did. And now...it's on."
So,
I am gonna go kill zombies with plants now, but only for 15 minutes, because somehow Kevin always knows when I'm lying. Plus, that whole thing where my shoulder does actually hurt.
ETA: It occurred to me later that