Dear Glee,
I want to fake a pregnancy and I want you to be the baby daddy. If I had a shiny, polyester track suit I would wear it today just so I could spend the entire day thinking about you. I want you to give me a slushy facial and then lick it off slowly. I want Mr. Schu to tell me to find myself by singing an OK song by an overrated band, backed by an impromptu collection of musicians who always seem to be hanging around waiting for me to break into song. I want to grease a Wok with the hair product in your overdone do. I want to slip a mystery pill into your drink so I can take photos of us in bed together. I want you to steal my set list for sectionals. I want you to threaten me so I can threaten you back and we can ride the currents of our underlying passion as we try to destroy each other.
I also want to finish watching the last 3/4 of last night’s episode….
Oh, Glee. What have you done to me?
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