Let's care for each other. Let's stop this nonsense of holing up in our room, drinking our gin, and crying over failed romances. By the way, does anyone want any failed romances? I have stacks of 'em. I have drawers full of 'em. Wait. Not drawers full of 'em. That makes it sound like I am a serial killer. It took me THREE times to correctly spell "serial." I suppose I ain't as bright as I thought.
Imagine, if you must, that my life takes an unexpected turn and I either marry Kobe Bryant or Anthony Wiener. Okay, Tony would have to first get divorced, but that's not too hard to imagine. I mean, it's not too hard to imagine Wiener getting divorced. But Wiener marrying Wiemer? That's stretching it.
I want to move to LA. No, really. I have my reasons. I am too hungry to explain these reasons right now, though, so instead I will leave you with this picture YOU'RE WELCOME.
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