Speaking of Hugh, I just realized he hasn’t gotten any love here yet.
I blame lattelicious. Slacker!
Hmmm. The guys I posted a few minutes ago are totes adorable, but I definitely have a type when it comes to any kind of long-term devotion.
I’m a picky, picky princess.
Okay, I don’t watch commercials so I’m always late to the party as far as that goes. I’m just now getting around to this:
Mike Rowe and a truck? Ditch Joe there, and we’re good to go! All this situation needs is a sleeping bag and some Boone’s Farm.
You know, sometimes I worry that I’m too easy. Then I remember that the proper term is “liberated”.
I totes overlooked the opportunity to make a fully-boxed frame joke. Oops.
I shall not be outdone by my Blogging counterpart. (and also, I’m having High School flashbacks. Ooh, Mulder! Any man who, when asked if he wants to live forever, answers “Not if parachute pants are coming back in style,” is the kinda man for me.)
Mmmm, apples.
And of course, from the ever popular Tea Time pictures… (avert your eyes, o those with delicate sensibilities!)
There. See? I have officially brought celebrity crotch to the blogging masses. My work here is done. For now.
September 10, 1993. My eleventh birthday. I was just minding my business, trying to score some cake and *BAM!*
*PUBERTY SEQUENCE INITIATED*
Man, just look at him! So delicious! WANT!
