You got me.

You got me with all your melodramatic, vague dialogue and your attractive characters that don’t act like normal people.

I’ve caught up, okay?  We have stuff to talk about at the water cooler.  I no longer have to put my earphones in my earholes when co-workers mention your doings.

I know the whos and the whats and the how they relates.

Damn you and your–I don’t know… ability to make me want to watch your episodes instead of actually pursue anything of my own interest.  You make me sick.  Sick with obsession.

And yes, you win.  I missed out and was too slow to catch you when you were all the rage.  I purchased your premiere off of the internets computer stores and will ruin my day tomorrow by watching you into the wee hours of the morning.

But I will catch up and be on your heels waiting for you to make the next move. Tonight, I will obsess and justify losing sleep over you and your pop culture relevance.  I have no pride.  Shit, I have no life at this point.  I understand I’ve been behind.  But I’m on to you now and Hulu is my partner in crime.

I will conquer you, “Lost” season six if it’s the last thing I do.

… Actually, if it was the last thing I did, I would be pretty embarrassed… AND SUSPICIOUS OF THE ISLAND.