think i’m in trouble.

“Oh my god… I’m dating a couch potato. A TV binging, out of control couch potato. Do you even hear yourself? How are you not going blind? Blaine… You seriously went outside, ordered a COFFEE from another HUMAN BEING, all while watching this show? How many seasons are there anyways? If you say more than three, I’m banning you from the tablet. No, I do not want to know any more about your ruined morals or obsession with this — What?! NO, Blaine! We are not starting over from the beginning! Are you out of your mind? Go to bed! Or take a shower! Or SOMETHING remotely good for you!”

“Uh??  I don’t get it.  Who else would I order coffee from than another human being?  Maybe I don’t want to tell you how many seasons there are if it’s going to end up with you banning me from my tablet.  How are my morals ruined?? What?  You really think that’s happened?  I’m not obsessed.  I’m interested. There’s a HUGE difference!  Where else would we start if you don’t want to watch the last couple of episodes, honey?  Um–Kurt?  You’re yelling?  I’ll go to bed soon.  I promise.  After the six shot espresso wears off.  Oh God.  I shouldn’t have said that. Forget everything I just said.  Bed!  Bed would be great!  You should come with me??”