Crap. I'm going to need to re-evaluate this. How in the hell am I supposed to meet Winona Ryder, leave Mrs. Zombie for her, subsequently marry Winona Ryder, and have two children and a dog named Ethan Hawke -- if she never goes on the interwebs?
You know what this means, right? It means I'm going to need to take my unhealthy obsession with Winona Ryder to new levels of creepiness. I've been trying to avoid the whole crazed fan/stalker method because, truthfully, a restraining order would severerly hinder my ability to convince Winona Ryder to spend the rest of her life with me... but I need to do something.
But that's it... I'm going to have to go full on stalker.
You're breaking my cold, undead heart, Winona.
Dear, sweet Winona.
This makes me a very sad evil, mad genius... and when that happens I start toying with the idea of bringing my Orbitally Deployed Plasma-based Death Ray online. Hey! Maybe that's the answer! I can't be held responsible for the destruction and loss of property that will ensue... but I'm pretty sure it can be avoided if Winona would just call me.
What's that you say? Blackmail? Blackmail's such an ugly word. Consider it an inducement, a carrot dnagling from a stick for the world leaders out there. Bring me my beloved Winona Ryder, and I won't fry Cincinnatti like a kid with a magnifying glass sitting over an anthill on a sunny day.
Obsession's a scary thing, man. Now I'm off to the lab...
1 comment:
that is totally, totally normal. carry on!
Post a Comment