Here's the thing: I never had a sister growing up and I always felt my life was lacking for it. That is, until I met Paul Constant. In Paul, I found more than a friend—more than a sister, even. We are like sister wives.

I agree with most everything that pops out of his pretty little mouth. We have the same taste in books and sensible footwear. Sometimes, in the mornings, when we're the only two people in the office, I take discreet pictures of him with my cell phone to save for later, when I'm missing him.

So it absolutely breaks my heart that Paul refuses to watch Misfits, the British television show about teenagers working community service who wind up with superpowers. The characters are superb. Their powers amplify various aspects of their personalities, and so they spend their days picking up litter, running into other people with superpowers, and fucking and/or killing them. The special effects are terrible, but the dialogue and plot lines (and the music!) are remarkably smart for teevee.

Someone back me up here!

Because I've recommended it to Paul, like, three times now and he still hasn't made an attempt to watch it. When I told him it was like a really good comic book, he actually scoffed at me.

Paul: I will make it easy for you. The first episode is after the jump.

Paul, dammit, please just trust me and watch this show before I'm forced to re-evaluate our relationship. Perhaps we're not as close as I thought. Perhaps we are mere step-sister wives.