Dear you guys,
I know you all found out last week that I'm a slut who hypothetically sleeps with famous people just so they'll introduce me to OTHER famous people . . . but I need to tell you something. I love you. All of you. The whole Internets. Oh, Internets. Will you be my Valentine(s)?
I was going to write about how much I love TiVo and how I couldn't live without him, but that's a lie. You know what we called TiVo before he existed? VCR. Now, I'm not saying I WANT to go back to those days of videotapes stacked all haphazardly on top of the TV, but I could if I had to. I don't want to. I COULD. But I don't want to. I feel like I can't stress that enough. (Roommate: Please don't ever move out and take TiVo away from me.)
But with you guys . . . that's different. If someone took the Internets away from me, I'd be so sad that I'd cry and lock myself in my room and either stop eating altogether or I'd consume nothing but ice cream and wine for a week. Or longer. Probably longer. And then I'd form an unhealthy relationship with something else, like my cell phone or my cat. Not that my relationship with you guys is unhealthy. Anything but, really. DON'T LEAVE ME OR I'LL SHAVE MY HEAD AND SMASH YOUR CAR WITH A BASEBALL BAT OR SLEDGEHAMMER OR SOMETHING ELSE REALLY HEAVY LIKE . . . THE MOON. Yeah. I'll smash your car with the moon! I'll do it! DON'T YOU CROSS ME. Ahem. Anyway.
So there it is, Internets. I've put it all out there for the world to see, as long as the world has access to the internet and, you know, their company doesn't block this website. I know we've established that I'm a slut and I'll probably leave you for John Krasinski or ignore you to spend time with TiVo, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't miss you if you packed up all your stuff and stole my cat and my car and ran away to Vegas. Please don't run away to Vegas*! Please? I love you.
Allow me, Internets, to express my feelings through this video:
*You can have my cat.