TV

Addicted to “Misfits.”

Just started watching Misfits two nights ago, and I’m almost done with the first season.

In my defense, it’s standard for British tele to have short seasons. This one had six. But still, I easily drained five hours of my life. No regrets.

The premise of the show: While on a probation, young adults acquire superpowers during a lightening storm. Just so happens that their obtained powers showcase their insecurities. A metaphor for adolescence? Score one for Misfits.

Of course there’s an overarching plot, but I won’t spoil the fun for you. But do know that it’s a dramadey with lots of sex. Like lots of sex.

If I had a Misfit-esque superpower, it would probably be the ability to poison people, or something to that extent. I get really self-conscious about my cooking and baking for some reason. I’m not a terrible cook in the least bit, but I’m always terrified that my dishes will taste like shit to other people.

So there you go. I just unknowingly Chicken Souped for the Soul.

Standard