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Monday, January 22, 2007

The face that launched a thousand dicks 

My roommate.

You gotta love her. And more than likely you do if you're male. I love her, too. She's prettier than Naomi Campbell, and doesn't beat bitches up to boot. In fact, if I were lesbionic (and I'm heavily considering it these days), she'd probably be at the top of my list next to Elizabeth Hurley.

Seriously though, it's hard to live with Helen of Troy. Don't get me wrong, she is my domestic soul mate. In fact, I'd much rather live with her than anyone else and I have the best time when I'm around her.

But she's ruining my game.

It wasn't so bad when she had a man because the second she'd say she had a boyfriend, then I might get some acknowledgement in the conversation from the pack of dudes that swarm her (and even that didn't stop some). But now that she's single, it's all over. It will not be long before blood is spilt in the pursuit of her company. I feel like Turtle from Entourage having to hope for a piece of Vince's leftovers. She's Christian, and I'm Cyrano. She's Derek Jeter and I'm Wade Boggs. She's Elizabeth Hasslebeck and I'm Rosie O'Donnell. She's Marcia and I'm Jan. INDIA INDIA INDIA!

In all seriousness though, she is one of my best and coolest friends. I love her to death and am truly blessed that she is in my life. I absolutely cannot wait for our housewarming party (details to come) because all males in attendance will be dickmatized. Men will be tripping over their cocks trying to compete for her affection. It will be glorious.

I'll be mainlining Vodka as usual and watching the swordfight. Awesome.

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