Imagine fucking Joss Whedon. It starts out really great, but in the middle of it he cuts off your feet and runs away with them. Later he returns and whispers that you are now stronger. You feel really disapointed and angry, but six months later you fuck again. It’s exactly the same thing.
Oh my goodness this is so true. I will run back to you EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I promise, Joss.
Dr. Horrible on vinyl!