Seriously, where the fuck has she been all of my life? Why did nobody fucking tell me? Wait, you probably did fucking tell me and I just didn’t bother to fucking listen. Well fuck me twice on Sunday, I was a goddamned idiot. She is TV’s most deliciously foul-mouthed badass. And a totally hottie to boot. There’s just something about the combination of her trucker vocabulary combined with her intellect, instinct and a incredibly smoking physique that have me melt. I mean, fuck balls, those abs.
Come on, that’s like Lesbian Dreamboat Material 101. But, really, why isn’t Deb a lesbian? She’s not had super great luck with the fellas. Like, for instance, she has earned her “I dated a serial killer, ask me how” button. And her other mannerisms are tomboyish, to say the least. So, when will Deb figure it out? Of course, she may not be quite as good at mastering the obvious as we thought – I mean, her brother is Dexter. But, come fucking on, you know her entire closet must just be man boots and plaid fitted button-ups – the whole damn thing.
I will confess to cheating a little with this show. I got the screeners for the first three episodes of season 6 and, on whim over the weekend, popped them in. Now, I’m hooked and am going back to watch from the beginning (mid-way through Season 2 now - hello, Jaime Murray, hello very much). I know a few of the big spoilers through the seasons already (like Rita, poor Rita). But it is quite interesting to begin with where Deb is now and then go backwards to where she started. Now that’s an evolution. She’s always been good, but never quite so confident. And, shit, I think she has even surpassed the unsurpassable cursing goddess Better Porter in creative uses of the word fuck.
Fucking marry me, Deb Morgan. I could not be more fucking serious.