Thursday, January 12, 2006

At no point in your rambling, incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought.

OK, two things.

First, what the hell is up with the CONTINUOUS commercials for the horrible new Jennifer Love Hewitt ABC Family Channel Misty-Eyed Movie of the Week? I swear to God, if I have to hear her whine "I don't want to be ADOOOOOOOORED, I want to be LOOOOOOOOOVED" even one more time I am going to come seriously unglued and stab myself in the face like ten thousand times. She's just SO. EFFING. AWFUL. When she gets hit by the car and her whatever-he-is looks all sad and stricken I want to stand up and cheer. If I could write a letter to "Love" (she lets me call her that) right now it would say, "Look sister, I do not EVEN want to hear you whine about being 'adored' rather than 'loved' when I would sell my soul to the devil just to have mediocre sex with a guy who can't remember my name and then spends the rest of the night crying in my arms over his ex-girlfriend who I kind of remind him of only she's skinnier and prettier." MAKE IT STOP!

Second, the most beautiful boy in the whole world sits in front of me in Tax and it's seriously affecting my ability to concentrate. Today I got called on and I sounded like the biggest douchebag in the whole world...it was seriously pathetic (note that this wasn't his fault, it was my fault...I'm relatively certain he actually has no faults beyond being truly fantastic looking). But you know what? Hottie McHotterson was wearing a very nice sweater and somehow that made it all better. I almost didn't write this because I was like, "shit, for sure someone will send him this and then he'll know I'm a gigantic stalker and he'll probably move his seat" (see how that's the only part that bothers me??), but then I though, "shit, if he hasn't realized it by now he is BLIND and also didn't get that collage I left in his locker made entirely out of eyeballs I cut out of magazines and then glued to a red heart made from construction paper because EYE HEART HIM...get it? GET IT?." I want you to know that this man is a GOD. He's not gorgeous in a way where I think to myself "Gosh, I wish I could talk to him because he seems cool in addition to being unbelievably hot." He's gorgeous in a way that makes me think, "Gosh, I think I'll make a detailed, perfect statue of him that I will worship and adore and every night I will bathe it with the tears of happiness that I cry each day because I'm allowed to bask in the glow of his hotness for 1 hour and 5 minutes during Tax class." Really. He's that hot.
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