Let me preface this recap with a statement. I like tits.

I do. I really do. I like naked ladies a very great deal. I know that the mammary glands are made for the rearing of children, but I unabashedly love them just for the funny feeling they give me in the groin area. Call me a pig if you must, but swinging sweater meat and hard nipples are high on my list of favorite things.

That said...True Blood? Cut it out.

Seriously, cut it out. We open with the mystery of Eric's run from the world, centering on a love affair he had back in the '80s with a French vintner's daughter named Sylvie. Now, do we establish this special relationship with tenderness, or perhaps by showing a sacrifice that Eric has made on behalf of the human girl?

Nope, we see him fucking her silly in a vineyard right after they casually discuss him killing her father.

I'm not trying to be a prude here. Every time Anna Paquin takes her top off my penis applauds, and I think it's a crime that we had the perfect opportunity of a full-frontal nude shot with Anna Camp this episode that wasn't taken. But you want me to believe that Eric Northman was driven to ennui by the random set of boobs that got like ten lines in the episode? Nope, not going for it, HBO. You have a problem.

Give these people some reality, OK? I'm not saying Gabriella Wright with no clothes on wasn't nice, but can you for five freakin' seconds invest in the character's reason for existing outside of a place for Alexander Skarsgård to rest his Nordicock? You're just proving the FCC restrictions on non-premium television right.

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