I hate you. I mean, I love you, but I hate you. I don't understand why you are always the lucky one who gets to meet people that I'm in love with. Granted, I'm not some celebrity-stalkerton, BUT I have a great, deep and unhealthy obsession with Justin Timberlake. Lame? Maybe. Secret? Definitely not. It's known. So let me tell you something: When you IM me today letting me know that he's in your office today with J. Biel and her bro, I was really jealous. But beyond that, Lauryn, you're just a cock tease.
Every 15 minutes or so, you'd send me another IM letting me know if he went outside, got lunch, etc. That's great and all, but can you imagine my rage and contempt for you? Can you just picture the jealousy lever just rising?
So NOW, it's the end of the day and you IM me with "I just talked to him." (after admitting to being a big wuss and not being able to open your mouth earlier in the day) -- so great, you talked to him. My initial reaction was "AND?!?!" ... then a follow up IM...another one...another one...20 minutes later, no answer. Is he doing you on your desk? FUCKING ANSWER ME.
But the thing is Laur, you would absolutely murder me and stash my body in my mom's trunk if I did this to you.
So, with that - I just wanted to let you know that I hate you. And love you. But mostly hate you.
Hall of Fame