"Say Hello To Your Friends..."

Inspired by dmbmeg I have decided to fill you all in on a conversation that Carly, a friend who I am now going to call Rockstar (because she parties and looks like one), and myself had last Friday in Brooklyn.

But let me preface this with a realization I had but three weeks ago, when watching The Babysitters Club movie (Rachel Leigh Cook as Mary Anne! Alex Mac as Dawn! ) on Showtime on Demand. The movie was circa 1995 and nothing like the short-lived TV series that I remember. It was all about the club forming their own summer camp for the kids of Stonybrook. Then it hit me...wow, that Kristy was a little lesbian stereotype. Softball! Hates dresses! Wants to hang with her girlfriends all the time!!! Nothing wrong with this mind you, but it made me understand why I never related to her in the books.

So I decided to share this theory with Carly and Rockstar (both which, I think were a little puzzled that I was watching this film at the age of 25) and it got us going on the books we read as kids. Rockstar's favorite BSCer is Claudia because she's artsy. Carly liked Stacy. I was a big Mary Anne fan, because she got to date Logan, the piece of ass. We remembered how the Stacy's diabetus was like the BIGGEST deal ever!!!!! OMG! SHE NEEDS INSULIN! SCANDAL! And how Alan became Kristy's beard.

Then we remembered our good friends in Sweet Valley, Elizabeth and Jessica, that bitch Lila and a bunch of other people. Elizabeth was the shy one, Jessica was sort of a ho. And now a personal confession:

One of the reasons I have never and will never do cocaine is because of a Sweet valley High novel (can we call them novels?). Let me set the scene. The twins are at a party, it's the '80s, it's all preppy people wearing pastel. A girl named Regina Morrow has fallen in with the wrong crowd...she does some lines...and her effing HEART EXPLODES. She had a heart murmur and did coke and died. Lesson learned, you don't need to tell me twice. Way to help out today's youth Francine Pascal.

Rockstar and Carly sort of laughed when I told them this but there are MANY, including my sister who were scared of drugs because of this book...so reading IS fundamental.

Then we started talking about how we eventually moved on from serials like the BSC and SVH (and for me, Nancy Drew 7 Encyclopedia Brown...I read...a lot.) onto those creepy scary books written by RL Stine and Christopher Pike. Did anyone ever read The Midnight Club...about the kids in hospice who tell stories and then two have sex? Or Remember Me when the girl comes back from the dead as a ghost? Biz. arre.

But it all makes sense to me now. I read enormous amounts as a kid because a lot of these books were never a challenge to me like say, Trainspotting or The Satanic Verses. They were entertaining and easy (like the HP books) and I obviously took a lot of life lessons from them. And no wonder many people (not me) stop reading as they get older. Reading becomes more challenging for some...It took me over a month to finish Salman Rushdie's book...and I didn't even like it!

There really wasn't an end to our conversation because I believe Drug Teeth interrupted it. But ever since that evening I have had the Babysitter's Club theme in my head:

Say hello to your friends (Babysitter's Club)
Say hello to the people who care
Nothing's better than friends (Babysitter's Club)
Cuz you know that your friends are always there....

Profound. I know.

It's like the summer of 2000 all over again...

Ok besides my excitement for Mission" Man Band on VH1 where they take former boy banders and stick them together to record a song, I just found out thatt Backstreet's Back...Alright! And they've released this.

Before I say anymore I am including this disclaimer: I love pop music. It makes me happy and it's fun to dance to. I have never claimed that it is anything but fun music. Especially when wasted. So all the hiptards that hate anything pop, go cut yourself again you emo freak.

All summer I've bee saying I want a boy band song and revisiting some of my faves. So I've been listening to "Pop", "The Call" (one of the most fun to sing) and some of the forgotten, like O-Town's "We Fit Together." In a cab the other night I heard LFO's craptastic song about Abercrombie and Fitch (literally, it's a pretty awful song, but it makes me want to break out some serious sick moves).

In an effort to support this boy band resurgence (even Diddy's on board with Making the Band 4--or as I call it New Edition 2) I have decided to live the last month of Summer 2007 like Summer 2000. Mind you, in Summer 2000 I was 18. And constantly drunk. The good 'ol days if you will.

So if you see a drunk girl doing the "Bye Bye Bye" dance down the street, it's probably a good bet its me.

SHOUT OUT!

Here is a shout out to an amazing post. Enjoy!

Big Ups to BK

Yowsa. That's all I can say about my Friday night Brooklyn adventure. It started out all so innocent. I was to meet Carly for drinks in Bay Ridge and see her 'hood (although I've been to bay Ridge on at least 3 occasions before) and apartment. I hopped on the N train at 6. The mother effing train was local. So I switched to the R and half-napped all the way to the last stop and went to her apartment. It. is. huge. Honestly, if it hadn't taken me over an hour to get there (and the following events n ever happened) I would consider moving there. She has a huge bedroom, tons of closet space, a bathroom bigger than the one at my mom's house and a ginormous living room. It's just amazing, minus the fake plants bolted to the furniture in the building's lobby.

Another one of our friend's met us and we went to grab a bite before we began what eventually turned into the great Bay Ridge drink off of 2007. I inhaled some nachos and a mini-pizza and then we went off to some bars. The evening started off pretty normal. The three of us, standing around, drinking. We ended up at a bar called The Salty Dog which is pretty funny considering there was a mix of middle aged firemen and women in walkers. We parked ourselves next to the restored model of a fire trucks and caught up on gossip, etc. The crowd wasn't exactly what we are used to (although, drinking around the elderly is more amusing than you would think) so we headed over to another place called The Pour House. I've been to this bar before and it's ok and I remember why...ladies, if you are ever suffering from any sort of low self-esteem go to this place. Odds are, you will be better looking than most of the other women. If you aren't well, sorry, you may want to look into hanging out at The Salty Dog with the elderly.

So we started buying rounds and definite buzz started creeping over us. Expletives became more prominent in conversation. I was drinking Sam's Summer like water. A few locals started to trickle in and finally the bar got a pretty good crowd. A DJ came in a Bon Jovi started blasting. I was fully enjoying myself when some weirdo with Drug Teeth (meaning the bottom row sort of looks like Corey Haim's, you know, because of the crack) and starts chatting at me, definitely not with me. Finally he gets to the point and drops his pickup line on me. Now, I've heard some nutty stuff. I've been told things like "I just want to marry you, knock you up, and divorce you," and "Your ass is as soft as two pillows," and the ever-present "PSSSSSSTTTTTTTTT." Drug Teeth literally threw me for a loop.

Here is how it went down:

Drug Teeth: "You look like a squirrel."

Me: "What?"

DT: "Like a smart squirrel."

Me: "Huh?"

DT: "You know... squirrels are cute."

Carly: "I think of squirrels as little rodents with diseases and stuff."

Me: "What?"

DT: "No, I mean it in a good way."

Carly: "Well, that's not a nice thing to say." To bartender: "He just called her a squirrel."

Bartender: "What?"

Me: "Yes. A squirrel." To the man: "I don't think i look like a squirrel and I'm really just here to hang with my girls...so......"

DT: Keeps talking

Me: "I'm really just here to hang with my friends and you called me a squirrel..."

Bartender pours free shots.

DT: Still talking.

I start thinking and decide I'm going to channel my brother-in-law who calls people "guy" whenever he gets annoyed. I slowly turn around and look at this man, my annoyance written all over my face and my hands ready to bust out all of the hand gesture I can think of.

Me: "Guy..." as Slice my hand down in the air in a move I can only describe as a karate chop.

DT: "Please do not say anything bad..." walks away, frightened, never to return.

Enter two British dudes, more shots, me blabbing about Robbie Williams to one of the British dudes, until I realized he smelled like someone who sleeps in his own ash tray and probably hasn't showered in a day or two.

Next thing I know I'm begging the DJ for some Beastie Boys and he says OK come look...in the DJ booth. Which was up really high. I stumble into it and start flipping through his books while he puts his hands on my hips is order to steer me to face the equipment--which I know think was a total pickup move--and he tells me to push a button to play the song I had requested. I guess the owner spotted me and made me get down but not before I played "No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn." Oh yes, like a loser fan wearing a t-shirt with the name of the band they are going to see (I was Gutter), I played "No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn," late at night, in a bar, in Brooklyn and started fist pumping. No one seemed to care though. I the blink of an eye it was 4 am and i had promised Future Mrs. Krabbypatty I would go with her and Spanish, to her 1st bridal dress fitting. (PS She looked amazing.)

I jumped in a cab with the other girl we were with ( she drinks like a rock star btw!) and we came back to NYC. The whole time she was begging him to stop for pizza and then he took us to the wrong neighborhood. It was nutso. By the time I got to my place I was exhausted and passed out. I made it to Future Mrs. Krabbypatty's fitting and then did what I do best, went home to Westchester to give my liver a break (although I did go out the next night...but only for a minute since I started to fall asleep!).

All in all, BK was a riot...even if the people there think I look like a rodent with diseases.

An Open Letter to Matt Damon...

Dearest Matthew:

First, I have to let you know, I love you. If I was offered a job as your personal ass pincher for the rest of my life I would glady accept. You're a hottie. Show me your peen.

Second, I have to say that I was a little hurt when your driver tried to run me over yesterday as you were leaving David Letterman. I was just trying to get home from work, not attack your car. Sure, I saw the tons of people waving at your vehicle, but I wa snot one of them because honestly, I couldn't even see you. Was it then necessary, for your black GMC truck to come barreling across 8th Avenue straight at me? I really don't think so. Was that effer Affleck driving (I assume since he has no career he is now your "Turtle" a la Entourage.)

I could have thrown myself in front of the car and sued but no, I chose to take a step back and avoid and type of mangling that your driver could provide. Since, out of the kindness of my heart, I saved you money and public embarassment, I have one request.

I would like you to sleepover. Just one night. And no sex (although I may ask you to show me the peen as noted above) because you are married and a father and I am not going the Angelina route. All my friends will come over and we'll all get wasted and maybe some people will start hooking up and me and you will be like, "Hey, isn't that weird, I never thought those two would go together." And then they will start dating and we'll still be like "Remember when they hooked up the night I had that sleepover?" And then they'll get engaged and it will be all nice and happy and then married and you'll obvs be invited because by that point you're in the click and everybody's boy. And we'll all be like "Really, who knew?" and then maybe you'll be going through a tough time in your marriage and your daughter will have just started school and Affleck's in rehab again and we'll get all deep in conversation and then make out and we won't start a whirlwind romance because you're married and you'll win your second Oscar because I inspired you and then get divorced and we'll celebrate by announcing our new relationship on Oprah and then have 3 babies and that couple who hooked up at that party will get divorced and we'll be like, "Woah! We didn't see that coming, but remember when they hooked up at that sleepover? That was weird."

Sincerely yours in all of your Bourneness,

M. Jones

And I sobbed...

A confession: I L-O-V-E the show So You Think You Can Dance! I became addicted to it last year. Like ADDICTED. I would religiously watch it every week and then vote. I even went to go to see the tour, amongst a bajillion tweens. Thank God my sister and a good friend of mine who we'll call, Denim (since she owns a store that sells jeans and really cool clothes), also love the show because I would have no one to discuss it with.

This year more people have caught SYTYCD fever and thank God, because between the Harry Potter obsession and the dancing, I've been looking like a big loser who has nothing better to do (sadly, sort of true :()

I think this season has been a little lackluster cosindering last year's group blew my mind...until last night. mia Michaels taught Lacey and Neil a routine that literally moved me to tears. I found the clip on YouTube to share with you, but what you don't see is them showing the backstory of the piece. It's a reunion between a father and daughter in heaven, and I truly haven't seen anything like this before.

I know not everyone with get it (I was watching it live wih London and her response was, "That's it?") but those who understand contemporary dance will agree, this is definitley something unique.

OR, I am probably just really a loser who has nothing better to do than write abou crap she sees on TV.

I forgot to mention...

I GOT A NEW JOB!!!

Gone are the days where my boss is screaming after me like I'm Lloyd from Entourage.

Say farewell to the days of my boss's son asking me if I'm 35, or have a husband, or have babies.

Hasta la vista to the days where my boss asks if I've had a Valentine in the past few years.

Peace out to the annoying lady who doesn't know how to use Excel or make labels in Word even though we have computer training classes.

Siyanara to the lady who once told me I have a muffin top (I didn't).

Aloha to the guy who reeks of Drakkar Noir cologne like it's 1995.

Buh Bye to the lady who always farts really bad when I'm in the bathroom.

Godspeed to the lady who I have to avoid taking an elevator with, as she is the worst close talker in the history of all time (One day I could taste her breakfast from her breath).

FInally, Adios to the days of blogging at work, because from what I can tell, I will be the busiest of bees in my new position. But I won't be too far!


PS: A special shout out to Spanish's gall bladder, which will be leaving us on August 10th. I'll be sure to pour out some bile for you. I'll be missing you.

Corey Haim: Better on Drugs?

Corey Haim was way more entertaining when he took pills.

I DVR'd the Two Coreys! I AM VERY EXCITEd!

He's 18. It's allowed.

He's got the magic stick, I know if I read it once, I'm readin' it twice. Finished the book, saw the movie. And while my true love will always be Ron Weasley, kudos to Daniel Radcliffe, for growing up so well and making me want to cougar. All that teen angst in that jawline..magical indeed.

Oh yea, I'm a dork.

I forgot to mention...

Um, we also somehow managed to break into a van taxi cab and get yelled at by a fat bouncer, and then the police. Whoops. I love the Hamptons.

2nd Annual: I got rescued at The Drift and all I got were some spider bites

Ok, I know you've been waiting for this one and I apologize for the delay. Here we go:

On Friday DM and I met up to get manicures before the fabulous druken Hamptons trip began. She dragged me to this upstairs place (places upstairs always bug me out for some reason) in midtown where I proceded to get the worlds fastest mani. Literally done in 10 minutes (its still on btw). Then we took the world's longest taxi ride to hell, I mean Penn Station. We scored seats on the to Jamaica thinking "Awesome, it shouldn't be too bad to get a seat when we switch to the double decker!" WRONGO! When the train pulled up in Jamaica, it was packed. Like 5 seats were open. People were sitting on steps, standing in the aisle, it was dreadful. It reminded us both of those long train rides down the NE corridor Amtrak line in college. Les. Mis.

We finally found spots where we could sit, stand, whatever. You know those cubby hole areas where the conductor stands and pushes buttons to move the train? That's where we parked it. Onfortch, both of us where in jersey dresses, so at times we had to be etra careful that the entire bar car couldn't see our underthings. Who are we kidding, they totally did.

Drinking ensued. I got wasted and made out with a guy who like the bizarro identical twin of a guy I hooked up with a bunch of times in college. But then he started to annoy me. Then i realized that I was making out with him for only 2 reasons: 1. His wicked dance moves. 2. He told me i had a rockin' bod with his thick Boston accent (I must admit, the boobies were looking fabulous).

So it's finally time to leave and Bizarro can't find his cousin or anyone who he is supposed to be staying with. And he doesn't have a phone. I wanted to get rid of him so I wouldn't accidentally have sex, but DM shouts "JONES, GET IN THIS CAB! BRING YOUR BOYFRIEND" Crap. Did I mention that he kept calling me he wrong name? He would be like "Junes...I mean Jones." Then I would give him a mean look and walk away and then somehow the vodka would make me kiss him again. Damn you clear drinks!

So finally I get back to DM's house and then it gets blurry. I know I changed into my PJ's in the bathroom and wouldn't touch Bizarro when he got in bed with me...until he full on spooned me...ick, I hate sleep touching.

Next morning he sort of disappears which makes happy but then it's time to go to the beach Luckily I'm hungover enough to not be ashmed in my bathing suit. To this day I have never found a better hangover cure than this:

1. Bottle of Water
2. Turkey Sandwich
3. Ocean
4. Combos

Seriously, I was fresh as a daisy in no time! Queue more drinking and the Drift. Some funny moments:

1. Walking into a girl vomiting on someone's car, the owner of which hit the panic button on her.
2. Running full force into a chest bump only to be flung five feet backwards
3. Watching a group of girls dance to that same guy's car alarm...he would click it off and on...everytime it came on they would dance and when it when off they would stop...it gave no meaning to the term "Dance, Monkey Dance!"
4. Major dance party with some of the most fun people I know


Honestly, it goes down again as a fabulous weekend, one that it has taken my liver 5 days to recover from. Kudos to DM and to all....except for the spider bites...seriously, I have like 3 of them and they itch.

Guess Who's Coming to Drinking?

Oh yes kiddies, it's that time of year again. Jonesy v. the Hamptons. Place your bets now. Here are some things to loook forward to...

This weekend is intended to be a shitshow of mass proportions. Similar to that of this girl's Awesomefest series. Some of you know about last year's magnificent trip out east. This year, I have been promised an even broader cast of characters includding Penny and pretty much everyone listed in her cast of characters. I have been told there will be drinking in mass quantities, including my introduction to the Stoli-bomb. Let's all pray I don't embarass myself while trying to pole-dance on a giant pink coulumn inside the Drift (which is actually Guide-hotspot, my hell, Neptunes during the day).

I will be venturing on the beach for the first time since last August, my pale skin begging for sun exposure. Kids, I'm so white, I glow. My sister compared my leg to my neice's (FYI-she has never seen direct sun) and the color was pretty much the same.

I am going happily, as this week has been very tough work-wise. Not only did my boss come back from his week off in order to give me tons of stuff to do, but I am also praying for a promotion to a position that opened up last week. I also have something else in the works (which will come to a close this Friday, just in time for my weekend escape) that will hopefully work out very soon!

So again, place your bets now kids, who will triumph? Will I take on the Hamtpons in pro-form without any embarassing moments that involve vomit/pee or spilling liquid of any kind? Will I avoid taking photos that make me look like I have 8 chins and 6 months prego? Or will The Hamptons beat my ass into submission, making me cry "UNCLE!" while I dance violently to quality tunes at 4 am?

I'll give you a hint. The Hamptons always wins.

I would categorize this as a flame.

WHY DO THEY MAKE PEOPLE WORK ON THE 5TH OF JULY IT ONLY RUINS THEIR 4TH BECAUSE THEY CAN'T REALLY DO ANYTHING THAT'S TOO FUN AND NOBODY'S HERE SO WHY AM I? THIS IS SO STUPID I HATE IT AND I JUST WANT TO GO HOME. AND WHY AM I NOT ALLOWED TO TAKE OFF BECAUSE MY BOSS TOOK THE WHOLE WEEK OFF AND HE NEEDS ME HERE TO DO NOTHING BUT JUST IN CASE BUT EVERYONE IS ON vACATION AND I AM SITTING HERE AND THE PHONE IS NOT RINGING THIS IS SO STUPID.


I hate today.

If I Could: A Tacky Wedding

Occasionally I wonder what would happen if I had unlimited funds and a whole lot of time. So here is a new type of post I'm calling "If I Could." Here are my musings on what kind of tacky wedding I would have, "If I could."

Date: 4th of July. Why? Free fireworks for all. But instead of having those little smiey faced ones I would have the folks at Macy's design special pyrotechnics that would launch firworks that would explode in the shapy of my face and beau, encircled by heart with an arrow going through it. God bless America and God bless us.

Ceremony Location: Shea Stadium. Why? Because in my little world where I have more money than Bill Gates, everyone will want to attend my nuptuals. I need stadium seating. But considering that this affair will come after 2009, I would have to buy Shea Stadium before it's torn town and transplant it to a patch of land. So, I will have to buy all the real estate on the Lower East Side/East Village, evict all the hiptards, level all the annoying builldings/hangouts and place Shea down there. Any hispter who does not vacate will just be seen as collatoral damage.

Reception: Central Park Why? Because I would need pretty much the entrie park for all the guests. It's a simple matter of capacity. All the important people will be allowed in the great lawn with me, while all the on-lookers will have to stay down in Sheep's Meadow. The people I really don't like will be sent to sit on the ball fields, and have to make due with a hotdog cart and ice cream man.

Bridal Party: The obvious suspects, my sisters, BFF, Spanish, Future Mrs. Krabby Patty, Jennifer Aniston, Kelly Clarkson, Wonder Woman.

The best man will be Michelle Williams. Because let's face it, Heath wouldn't want anyone else helping him out more than his ex-wife/baby momma.

The other best man (did I mention this was Big Love?) will be Kylie Minogue, who will be trying to hold Robbie Williams up, because we will have to kick that guy off the wagon to marry me.

Flower children: My neice will be head flower child which means she is the boss of all other flower children and they need to kiss her feet and give her money and presents. Other flower children: Suri Cruise (but Tom has to sit in the baseball team area for the reception, Katie can stay with me but only if I can call her katie and send her to de-programmer who will burn her with ciggie butts until she rejects Scientology), Zahara Jolie-Pitt (screw Shiloh), Maddox Jolie-Pitt (screw Pax), and The Olsen Twins.

I will not walk down the aisle. The entire New York Mets team will kneel on hand and knee (in their custom NYM tuxes) and I will walk on their backs.

Colors: "My culuhs are blush and bashful." And yes, Dolly Parton will be flown in to do my hair and Julia Roberts will be forced to have a diabetic seizure.

Theme: The theme is everyone look uglier than the bride. Thanks.

Black Tie: Not optional. It's demanded. But only skinny black ties are allowed. And even the women have to wear them.

Entertainment: Think of Live Aid + Live 8, ONLY BIGGER. Headliners will include a reunited 'NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls, S Club 7. Also Amy Winehouse, The Beastie Boys, Shakira (but she has to dance in a brown paper bag since no one is allowed to look better than me), U2, Madonna, Oprah, Larry King, Gallagher. Ellen Degeneres will be dancing in a cage above the stage, non-stop.

Gown Design: I will change every 30 minutes into a new gown. The designers will have to pay me to wear their dress at the ceremony. I have a feeling Bobby Trendy won't win. It will be easy to dress me because I will be thinner than Victoria Beckham. And she will be forced to eat the entire reception.

Food: I will leave that up to the house elves from Hogwarts.

Party Favors: Everyone will receive an 8x10 of me, autographed, of course.

Honeymoon: 1 week at each Hedonism resort in the world.

A girl can dream, can't she?

Correction: Sorry Keith!

Keith Hernandez is a spokesman for Just for Men hair dye, not the Hair Club for Men. I stand corrected and may I say Keith, your 'stache is as sexy as ever.

Coughie and Pedicure

This past Friday I took a much needed half day off from work. Sometimes I find these more productive than full days because 1. I stay sober the night before because I still have to go to work and 2. I'm not left to my own devices and sleeping half the day away.

As soon as I left work I decided it was time for two of my favorite things: Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee and pedicures. I got my medium French Vanille Iced Coffee with skim milk and two Equal and headed over the my fave nail salon for a quick yet MUCH MUCH needed pedi (flip-flops + NYC streets = black heels). As soon as I walked in I was a little miffed because I had to wait (all four pedi stations were full) . There's only one waiting bench to sit on. It fits about three people. Smack in the middle was a little girl, probably about three or four. I had no choice than to sit right next to her. I was sitting of all of 30 seconds when I heard the deepest, chestiest, throatiest cough. It was coming from the little crumbsnatcher (Fiture Mrs. Krabbypatty's word-excellent, no?) next to me. She didn't cover her mouth.

The cough was quickly followed by a sneeze. Then another and another. I got squirmy. In my head, I was thinking "EFF! I can't get sick. It's Friday, it's been a shit week and all I want to do is drink my face off." Then I felt it. The burning sensation that someone was looking at me. It was little ol' Coughie. I don't think that child blinks.

Immediatley I get to texting everyonw whow ould understand that this evil midget was not only infecting me with her child disease, but also staring at me like I had Dora the Explorer shaved into my head.

I couldn't reiterate enough how bad the kid was staring (Have I mentioned that staring is one of my pet peeves?) and also, bad parents who take their sick kids toa ccrowded nail place instead in keeping them in bed with some Triaminic. So I took a pic with my camera phone. It didn't come out to late so I switched to video. The kid is full on staring, she even looks away and comes back. And no, she didn't know I was filming her because I had the phone up to my ear and started saying "MmmHmm" like I was in a convo (yes, I know I'm nutto).

Since I couldn't load the video, here is the budget photo I took. All you need to see is the evil eyes.

I swear I like kids though. Just not this one.

Playa HAAAAAYYYYTAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Remeber that Biggie Song Playa Hata or whatever? I like that song.

Anywho, I've been busy with stuff (So You Think You Can Dance) lately and really lazy. But i have some ideas for some classic Jonesy posts.

This is redic. Apparently they feel the need to advertise head products for bald men in all me the ladies bathrooms at shea stadium. What about keith hernandez and the hair club for men?

This is what i have been staring at all week. Need drink now.

Oh well....

Let me pre-empt this whole story by saying it's summer and there is nothing on TV.

So I just finished watching the movie "Because I Said So" with Diane Keaton and Mandy Moore. People have been telling me I should watch it since it's like my family blah, blah blah (I could only wish to be as cute as Mandy Moore).

Lo and behold, out of the darkness. A full fledged undiscovered hottie. Yea, Tom Everett Scott's in the movie but he plays kind of a dick, but this guy, super cute...

Hotness right?

I got so psyched! New movie actor crush! As soon as the movie was over, I ran to my trusty laptop to IMDB his hot little ass.

This is how it went down in my head....

OH! His name is Gabriel!! I LOVE THAT NAME!!!! Ok, born in 1972, so he's 35, still in my age range...Wow, he's been acting since he was 8, that's a long time, he's gotta be doing well for himself....Born in the BRONX! YAY! He's a New York boy!!! Oh, Spouse, Jacinda Barett...that girl from the real world London, she's really pretty, I met her once, she asked me where the bathroom was when I worked at Kate's Paperie...Well, she was stunningly gorgeous so he has good taste! Still Crush worthy! Oh, and they are having a baby! Good for them.

"He is a huge New York Yankee fan."

Oh screw that.


Fin.