Dear Joss Whedon

(Varning: misshandling av det engelska språket. Warning: abuse of the English language)

Dear Joss Whedon.
I hope that you occasionally google your own name - maybe in combination with words like love or God. Then maybe you'll find this, but I doubt it - but since I don't want people to lose such a good opportunity to ridicule my grammar, I'll write this anyway.

Why have you ruined my life? You have made me spoiled. You have made me addicted, that's right - you have made me a druggie. Nowadays Buffy is like heroine to me (well, I have never actually used any sort of illegal substance so I can't be sure that it's exactly alike - but it's a pretty good guess). I'm watching "Gilmore Girls", my former favorite show, but I can't seem to enjoy it like I used to. Well, maybe it is because I've seen every single episode like a hundred times, but I doubt it. Why can't I feel the same overwhelming love for the show this time? I guess it has something to do with that deep craving I've got. That manipulating voice in my head that constantly whispers things like :"You want more Buffy..." or "Isn't "Passion" such a great moment of television?" or "Oh, you're really broody - watch "Once More With Feeling" and sing along and you'll feel just fine".
That's great, but there're other television shows out there, good shows too. Shows that I used to love. Look at "Veronica Mars". I don't crave "Veronica Mars", even though I was completely in love with the show the first three times I watched it.

What I'm trying to say, in my crappy English (coz I'm tired and generally suck when it comes to grammar), is that Buffy is too bloody brilliant. Oh, that's another thing. I've started to use the word "bloody", I never did before. I have also started to add -y to nouns - something my English teacher doesn't necessarily appreciate but it does look nice, doesn't it?

I admit it, you're the God of Television. Do you have a temple?
Yours sincerely, Sara

P.S! You can stay calm - I'm not stalker material... yet. And if I were stalker material (and the Atlantic Ocean didn't seperate me from the U.S) I would stalk James Marsters first. D.S

(Jag vet att chanserna att han någonsin kommer att se det här är 0.1 promille höga, men ändå. Jag behöver skriva av mig - och nu så kan jag pricka av ännu en punkt på 1001 saker att göra innan du dör listan. Punkt 300-någonting var nämligen att skicka ett brev till en känd person som man beundrar...)