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Every time I turned on the telly this weekend, there he was! Fassy Fassy everywhere! And while the new commercials for X-Men Muppet Babies have got me fit to burst with excitement for the movie, I have to admit I'm feeling a tinge of possessiveness over my beloved newly-blond one. Everybody else is loving him as soon as they become acquainted with him - how could they not? He's very likely the Antichrist and none of us are gonna give a shit about Armageddon, so lost will be be in the wonder of his sparkling eyes and dirty come-hither grin that the lick of hellfire will feel positively orgasmic - but I'm realizing I liked our little Fassy-admiring club. I don't want to hide his light under a bushel - unless by hide I mean something else and by light I mean something else and by bushel I mean something else - but there's a definite sense of nostalgia tickling me at this precipice. Make it good, Fassy.
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