So, yes, this says Vol. 1, which means there will be more volumes to follow, because let's face it, I have the attention span of a baby squirrel. By this time tomorrow, I will have found 27 new things that will grab a hold of my pea brain and try to make chicken noodle soup. Doesn't make sense you say? This is clearly the first time you're reading my blog. So to make things easy, let's start with 3 things I thought about on the way home from work today. Because if you're anything like me, you're already ready to tap out. (WARNING: I have a 30 minute commute. This won't be pretty).
Chris Carrabba
For those of you who didn't drink a bottle of ANGST every day in high school like me, he is the lead singer of Dashboard Confessional, a.k.a. the original Godfather of Emo.At 5'5'', he is perfectly pocket sized. Plus, he clearly glues his sideburns down with the salt from the tears he's crying as he brushes your hair while simultaneously writing you a poem about his damaged soul that you fixed by butterfly kissing his no-no. He's perfect. I bet you his tears even taste like Chicken Picatta. Mmmmm...delicious pocket serenades at my every whim.
PUPPIES!!!!!!!
They're fluffy, they're sleepy, and every time they give me a nip with their little toothpick teeth an angel tickles my soul. Whenever I hear the word puppy, I SQUEEEEEE!!!!!! Which, ironically, is a sound so high pitched, only puppies can hear it. We were made for each other. I'm so obsessed with puppies that I bought toilet paper because there was a small, fluffy golden puppy frolicking amongst a meadow of butt cotton on the packaging. BONUS: When I didn't get a puppy for Christmas, I made my fiance watch a 7 minute long You Tube video of other people getting puppies for Christmas. I SQUEEEEDDDDD!!!!!! in his face consecutively for 7 minutes to no avail. You would think it was charming that I could talk to puppies but NOOOO......
Sideshow Adam Durtiz
This choice has nothing to do with the Counting Crows or the fact that before Shrek ate him, he sang a bunch of songs about having a seriously suicidal case of the sads. No, this is about THAT HAIR. He is the founder/creator/CEO of a phenomena I like to call Palm Tree Hair. Every time I look at him, I want to sit under his hair with a strawberry daiquiri and ogle the pool boy. PERFECTION. Plus, he pulls like the hottest tail in Hollywood and I guarantee you it's because he promises to take them to his "private island", but instead of an actual beach with sand, he stands underneath a tanning light in a sandbox and they're all like "SWOON!!....you're so environmentally conscious. SIGHHH, I am so jealous of your Escalade."
Ed. Note: I'm not going to pretend that I wrote this post sober.
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