You ever see a girl at the bar and that “I want her as my wife” feeling overcomes your entire body? You just have to have her. You briefly picture you two together skipping through a willow field and feeding each other strawberries and raising your super-athletic children in a home that you can’t afford. So you convince yourself that after one more drink, you’re going to make a big-swinging-dick move and approach her. Except after the first drink you remember that you have an average-swigning-dick and talk yourself out of it. One meek excuse after another and she’s putting on her coat and exiting your life forever.
That’s how I feel right now after my dream girl Olivia Munn is reportedly engaged.
To the fucking discount double check guy.
Alan Rogers or some shit.
Ok! Magazine reports that a source “Olivia wasn’t expecting it, but they’re so in love he just couldn’t wait.”
Oh, fuck off, source.
Hey Olivia, I hope you’re ready to take charge when a burglar breaks in. Alan is no Adrian Peterson with a stick.
I remember when I couldn’t put on my own bowtie. When I was 12.
I would have laid my coat over that puddle, Liv. Just saying’
Which side of the leash is the dog on, pussy? boomroasted.
The only one I have to blame is myself. God I’m a pussy.