And It All Comes Down To You

Tonight is the final episode of American Horror Story: Coven and I may weep.  Not because I'm sad to see it go, but for the wildly uneven season that it's been.  Shit is really fucked up you guys!  It's like some Ryan Murphy jambalaya tourettes nightmare.  Witches, immortal racists, frankenboyfriend, minotaur sex, zombies, clorox enemas, voodoo, jars of jizz and Stevie Nicks giving twirling lessons?  How about THAT for season three fuckers?!  Coven had very little plot movement, not much tension, and nowhere near the depth and boldness of past seasons.  It was divas tearing up the scenery, and scenery that looks like a Vogue editorial.  I'm in it until the end, obviously, but does it really matter who the next Supreme is?  Unless Stevie Nicks turns up tonight singing Seven Wonders in the ultimate psych bitch power play, my vote is for Cordelia, but only because Nan's dead, Myrtle's too old and the others bore the shit out of me.  Plus, Sarah Paulson stopped for this photo.