Horribile Visu!

The U.S. version of 'Being Human' morphed into a nauseous chick flick, with vaginal secretions and predictable love interests all over every goddamned thing....

A development I began to dread as I watched, in the ever more girl-assertive Credits with trepidation, more and more females taking over the story-line and the production.  Poor Sam Witwer!  Poor pop-eyed Sam Huntington!  But especially poor Sam Witwer, whom we had seen grow ever gayer and gayer, like a buff, blood-smeared Charlie's Aunt ("This is how we do it in Brazil!"), to see him sunk at the end into a mere wraith of twat-juice domesticity was fucking heart-breaking.  Or would have been if my heart had not been surgically removed at birth.