There was a moment in last night’s episode of Dexter where Boyd was rocking out with his shirt open and his sick ass yokel mustache riding the damp Miami wind when everything became clear to me. The power of Boyd had distilled the universe into a simple message I could comprehend: via the power of some sick facial pubes, and a backwards hat, existence was mine! I could take it!

Seriously though, I loved the fuck out of Boyd. He was such a ridiculous change of pace that I had to tip my cap to him. Dexter had to ruin my torrid dong-sloshing for Boyd though. He had to get all high and mighty. Really, Dexter, Boyd deserved to die? I noticed that Harry said Boyd was your first kill since…”You know.” No really, I don’t.

‘Cause I seem to recall the piece of refuse you bludgeoned to death with an anchor. Doesn’t that guy count, at all?

Dexter seems to get shittier and his shittier in his execution of his executions. The dude has gone from some high proficiency slayer into a wielder of dumb assery. Remember in the first couple of seasons when he pulled off everything with aplomb? Those were the good ole days.

Dexter dude, have to heed the code, yo! Or some piece of shit is going to bring you down.

Like Quinn!

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