Another Unfinished Work of KSWIJ Genius

Back to work, back to work. I’m pretty sure everything that is insightful and clever that needs to be said about the Super Bowl already has been. The only thing I can really think about saying is that Peyton Manning is the greatest quarterback in the history of the National Professional Tackle Football Association. Right now, sports writers and fans are giving up on Peyton. It is because we are a fickle people and because most people are stupid. The idiocy of the general public regardless of education nor time spent in any profession, that idiocy is high – very high.

Peyton Manning is a 4x NFL MVP. That is fucking retarded. And by retarded, I mean it in the same way Rahm Emanuel and Rush Limbaugh mean it – thanks Meghan McCain. Over 7 seasons this past decade, Peyton Manning was seen as the most valuable player in the entire league four different times. The man is the greatest. People need to take a step back and stop themselves from writing knee jerk reactions just because he lost a game. He hasn’t lost many games. And that game? The fucking Super Bowl. Would it have been better for him not to make the Super Bowl at all than for him to make the Super Bowl and lose? There are 31 teams in the NFL outside of Peyton’s Colts. 30 of those teams didn’t make the damn Super Bowl.

Peyton is 33 years old. He has never missed a game in his professional career. He has never had a season with less than 26 touchdowns. He regularly throws for over 4,000 yards. Only one season last decade did he have less than 10 wins. And, yes he hasn’t had the best post-season career ever. But he has a Super Bowl ring as well as the Super Bowl MVP. He is 33. He will continue to run wild on the NFL for at the very least 5 more seasons. He will eclipse Dan Marino’s TD, passing yards, and pass completions numbers in at most 3 seasons. Peyton will not only have the numbers, but in that time he will have at least one ring – most likely more.

So, get your fucking heads together. “The Sheriff” Peyton Manning is the best, so shut it.

And with that, I thought today would be a nice day to throw out some more K-Swidg-Jizzle original content. Today’s installment is the first chapter to a book I never ever intend on writing. My writing usually is swayed by whatever I’m reading or watching. A few months after I read War & Peace, I thought I would put my endless array of words to use by writing an insanely long book. This was doomed from the start because my interest wanes greatly when I’m writing completely for myself.

The story was ripping off War & Peace. Spoiled rich nobles and landowners running a country, socializing, having dinner parties, attending dances, and eventually fighting a war. That and Rules of Attraction set as a period piece. Either way, here is a quaint little first chapter. I find it amusing. And if you need extra incentive – just pretend the chick is Kristen Stewart. Without further doo doo…

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The Princess of Doorchester sits in the solarium. No, she lays in the solarium on the chez lounge. Her tiny frame is no where to be seen. The enormous ball gown of silk periwinkle blue and white stripes is ridiculous casual wear. She lays with her head against the blood red sofa cushion her arms outstretched over her head as if she was dramatically shot and this is where she dies.

“What have you done today, Charles?” She emphasizes “Charles” as if she would even dream of talking to the dozen or so servants lining the walls like breathing statues who will spring to life at the slightest gesture. “What have you done today, Charles?” The emphasis on “done” to further prove her belief that Charles is a lazy do-nothing. She herself has had quite the rich list of accomplishments this morning: arising promptly at noon with a foggy hangover from the endless stream of champagne from the prior evenings’ orgies, was carried to her bath and thoroughly scrubbed, dressed by her servants, she ate a little which is a great accomplishment in itself – her meals usually are of the liquid variety – and now she is in another’s house meaning she has traveled. “What have you done today, Charles?” Today like all other days, Charles has done nothing. For the Princess Sophie of Doorchester her day has been long and agonizing and full of life because she is now drinking and drunk not in Doorchester, but in the town of Wedminster, right next to Doorchester. 

“To be honest my dear-“

“Oh do be honest, Charles. What would our time together mean if we were not honest with each

other? Everywhere else I lie and lie and lie and I can’t remember a single second of it, but-“

Charles clears his throat.

“To be honest my dear-“

“I’m sorry please go on. To being honest!” Sophie’s heavy with liquor and light on grace arm swings to the floor for her glass. She pours the contents of the lipstick smeared glass aiming for her mouth: half meets its target, the rest her cheek then the couch.

“To be honest, my dear, the most productive thing I have done today was I masturbated twice.”

“Really?” The Princess of Doorchester is aroused, literally. She props herself up on an elbow to get a look at what expression Charles, the masturbator, has on his most regal face. He is listless and barely awake, bored at the existence of existing. Sophie is tickled. Her comically large ice cream sundae dress-matching wig is clinging to her dirty blonde hair by a scant amount of pins. She shoves the wig off and props herself up higher on her sanguine chair and signals to one of the elegantly dressed servers.

“You masturbated today? Twice? Twice!?!” The server on bended knee to Sophie’s side receives the slightest of gestures to her empty glass. Immediately, a second server hands the first server the chilled opened bottle of champagne and the first server refills her glass. “Who would’ve known you would have had the energy?” The server snickers and then composes himself. Sophie at another time would have banished the servant, but she smiles at him for recognizing the intended humor in her statement. Sophie hands the glass back to the server and nods for more. A third server rushes out of the room for another bottle.

“Yes, twice. I woke erect and-“

“Masturbated with it?”

“Yes and then I laid around in bed for an hour trying to go back to sleep, which I couldn’t do so I masturbated again to give myself some levity to wake for the day. Sometimes I do that.” And with that, Charles shows the most enthusiasm for his sexual exploits by shrugging and the wildly intrigued Princess Sophie who is nearly on the edge of her seat is almost about to burst into laughter or run around the room in child-like excitement. “What is it? Can you not imagine me masturbating?”

Charles: the wealthiest man in all the country and would rival any in the world in terms of money, the most soft spoken, gets lost in the crowd in a party of two, the near hermit who barely attends any social gatherings of any sort, who has never had a wife nor a steady girlfriend even at his advanced age of 36, the man who is constantly being railed against by every major news organization about his complete disregard for humanity with all his money he gives only the required lawful minimum to charity and does little else with it except to maintain what he already has. Charles: almost six feet tall, not an athletic bone in his body, soft and pudgy, but not terribly overweight, receding hairline soon to be completely bald like his father, somber almost dead eyes that show little if any reaction to any stimulus. Oh, Charles. Gratifying himself sexually? Sophie thought. And twice?

“In the royal suite? On that huge bed your parents slept in?”

“What? They died over 10 years ago. It is not like they are still in there.”

“I would hope not!” Sophie laughs uncontrollably at her own joke.

“Shut up.” Charles barely has the strength to push the words past his teeth. The door opens and a servant rushes in with a champagne bottle and a short saber. He tilts the bottle and swipes once cutting the top off the champagne bottle, the cork bursting out and champagne gushes in an arc onto the floor and then into Sophie’s glass.

“Voila! Was it an explosion like that Charles? Are you so viral you popped and sprayed it all over your mummy and daddy’s bed like-“

Charles smiles and almost laughs. “No, it was fairly ordinary.”

“I’m so intrigued. Who was it about?” Sophie is giddy. She is sipping her sparkling wine and is now propped up on the chair with her little legs tucked to her side and the gown’s giant bell bottom like a beached whale nestling against her. “Was it two different women? Was it the same woman twice? Do I know who it is?”

“It was your sisters.”

“My sisters!?! Really? I cannot believe this morning. My sisters? Which ones?”

Charles glares at Sophie. “Which two would you think?”

“How should I know? This is your fantasy!”

Charles rolls his eyes and squirms about in his chair to adjust his posture. “Sophie, you have four sisters. I will name a sister and then you will describe them, ok? Priscilla.”

“Priscilla. She’s ever so smart. She went to college at Carmden-“

“For God’s sake, how could I masturbate about her education!?!”

“She is very funny. She is certainly the cleverest-”

“Jokes? Do you think I roll about my bed remembering jokes she has told until I finish myself off?”

“Fine, she is short and fat.”

“Julia?”

“Beautiful and-.”

“And a great ass. Deidra?”

“Tall, thin, big teeth.”

“Camille?”

“Very pretty and big… and a big… and a big b… bosom-… big tits. Are you happy?” Sophie shakes her head in disgust. “My sisters?”

“Would you rather I masturbate about someone else? Should I masturbate only to whores I meet at some party in the city? Julia and Camille are both very attractive, they come from an excellent family and I enjoy their company as well. So why not? Also they are princesses after all. The old adage of sticking to one’s social class, I’m at least following through with that in my own selfish fantasies.” Sophie won’t make eye contact. “Why am I defending myself? I would gladly fuck your sisters. It is out in the open. Why wouldn’t I? I am a straight man, after all. I’m sure any man with half a brain would want to have sex with them as well.”

“I don’t know who you should masturbate to. It caught me off guard. And, they will be at the party tonight? It will be awkward for me seeing you with them. I won’t be able to get that image of you-“

“What party?”

Sophie shoots up from her chair and stands stomping her bare feet on the wood floors; a child in a temper tantrum more than a Princess expressing her disgust. “What party!?! You promised Charles! Every year I host the greatest party of the calendar year and everyone attends. It is every year and has been since I was a child and it is every year on the same day! The country’s birthday party! It is the social event of the year, every year and you’ve always been there for it. How can you say what party?”

“Oh, right? Is it really the tenth already? This month has moved fast. It is my mistake. I did not forget your party; I just forgot what day it was or even what week probably. It happens a lot. I’m dreadfully sorry. Can you sit down now?”

The Princess of Doorchester falls backwards onto the chez lounge. Her dress flips up for a moment how a careless child’s would, perfectly illustrates her immaturity even more for Charles. She takes a few sips of champagne to wet her throat from all the yelling.

“So, what exactly are you doing to my sisters in these fantasies?”

===========

Tah-Dah… I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. Unfortunately, the chance for additional chapters would need to be pried from my brain with a book deal. Or several private evenings with Meghan McCain and her… uh… brain(s).

Kristen Stewart Wants My Bird

The Saints won, so I was correct. Yeah for me. I had some people over. We drank a lot of beer. We ate mashed potatoes, homemade mac and cheese, corn, peas, more crescent rolls that turned into “dinner rolls”, stuffing, and one more thing…. what was it?

TURKEY!!!!!!

MOTHER EFFING TURKEY!!!!!!!!!!!!

That is 20 pounds of glistening turkey whose meat was falling off its bones. It was a holy experience carving that turkey. There was so much turkey meat everywhere it was like I was hallucinating. How much meat is on a 20 pound turkey? 60 pounds of meat. I’m not sure how that math works, but it does.

Look at this beautiful turkey

Yeah, that’s right. We know how to cook. We’re taking over. No more “Stupid Dad”. No more “we have to order Dominos” because “Stupid Dad” will burn the house down if he tries to turn on the oven. None more of that. What? What you want dinner? Oh, I’ll cook you dinner. I’ll cook you a motherfucking 20 pound turkey that you can live off for weeks. Turkey sandwiches, turkey quesadillas, turkey stew, turkey burgers, turkey meatballs, turkey pasta – we’ll figure a way to do it. No more “Stupid Dad”. He has no place in this apartment.

We’re not “Stupid Dad”, but we are very much “Hungover Dad”.

Until tomorrow. Just fawn over my bird.

This Week In Kristen Stewart Wants IT #16

It is Friday. I’m currently not having a good day at mork. For the uninitiated, mork is the place one goes to for an extended period of time everyday to get paid, waste the precious hours of their life and read this blog. I write this blog at mork. One can also refer to mork as their yob. And we continue. It could be worse. People are getting schmired left and right because of this terger we’ve been going through for the past year. Meanwhile, I still have a yob. I have a yob with the new bompany. So it could be worse. But I didn’t get any breakfast today and I had to drink cold coffee – so I’m pretty much a modern day Folocaust victim over here.

Anyway, I’m not too energetic at the given moment. Maybe my mood will improve by answering some of your questions. We’ll have to wait and see. Expect today to be a “non-edit” day. Expect typos. Lots of them.

But before I get into that, I should at least talk about the SUPERBOWL for a minute. Also, in the next paragraph I will use the term “women” to simplify two groups: women who don’t watch football and men who don’t watch football. Reason being “men” who don’t watch football should consider themselves a bunch of women. I know it is not easy for men outside of the United States to watch football on the reg, but you should. The sport is the greatest. The men who play and have played professional tackle football would have been the war generals of yesteryear carrying two battleaxes and screaming bloody murder leading the screaming horde to victory or to hell.

I do know that many women choose to not be present for the Superbowl and plan “girls” nights around them specifically not watching the Superbowl. Whatever. I think that is clearly stupid. I don’t think women need to watch 17 weeks of the football season. I don’t think women need to watch the playoffs. I don’t think women need to play fantasy football. I don’t think women need to be able to quote statistics, recite the 32 starting quarterbacks’ names by memory or understand why men have a man crush on referee Ed Hoculi (actually you should understand). But women should watch the Superbowl. And they shouldn’t be pissy about it. Everyone should watch the Superbowl because it is the greatest spectacle of them all. It is the culmination of the most grueling, punishing, violent, beautiful, athletic, strategic and thought provoking sport on the planet – so just watch it and if you don’t understand what is going on then just nod and smile and cheer when others do and drink and eat and enjoy the commercials.

My prediction – feel free to use what I am about to write as talking points or ice breakers to sound like you watch football if you end up at a Superbowl party:

I think the Saints are going to win. Yep. I’m picking the New Orleans Saints to win. One main reason why I’m choosing the NFC to come out on top* this year is because of the Dwight Freeney injury. The Indianapolis Colts’ defensive end, Dwight Freeney, is the best player on their defense. He is their premiere pass rusher and right now his ankle is messed up. Warren Sapp, former NFL superstar, has likened playing with a really badly hurt ankle as playing with no hands. It is that debilitating. I think that Freeney will be far from 100% for the game. If he plays then he won’t be really ready to play and if he doesn’t play obviously that is bad news. I think the Colts’ defense becomes incredibly weak without Freeney. As many have stated, if Freeney isn’t playing then the Saints will be able to focus on Freeney’s fellow defensive end, Mathis.

If the Colts’ defense can not get a pass rush on the speed and versatility of the Saint’s offense then I think it will be too much for Peyton Manning to win the game all on his own. I love Peyton Manning. The Colts’ offense under Peyton Manning is one of the best. The problem is that the Saints’ offense under Drew Brees is equally as amazing. It will be a battle of which defense can stop the other team’s offense and allow their own offense to break away. I think Peyton will be able to keep them game close. But, in the end, I think that this is the New Orleans Saints’ year. They are high on energy. They are fast and if they get the ball rolling then they just take off. Obviously, if anyone can win a Superbowl by himself it could be Peyton, but the saying goes “defenses win Championships” and Freeney is el numero uno on the Colts’ defense and he’s hurt.  

So I’m picking the Saints.

Do guys notice a girl’s shoes out at a bar/club? Does it really make a difference?

Yes and no. I know guys who are certainly not some crazy foot fetishist, but they do like chicks feet and make note of them. At the same time, you may never notice a girl’s shoes because of the bar or club you’re in just because it is dark or it is crowded or whatever. The only thing I can think of that goes across the board for all men is the science behind heels make a girl’s ass and legs look great. But I don’t think a girl has to wear heels or specifically clear hooker heels. Unless that is the look you are going for.

I’m not specifically going to start talking to a girl because she is in heels. If you want to meet a guy, cross the crazy boundary and start the conversation first. Maybe a guy isn’t feeling the most confident that night for whatever reason, but you think he’s cute. Instead of wondering the whole night why he doesn’t start conversation with you then start the conversation with him. That is a confidence boost.

There is a line in one of my favorite movies – The Way of the Gun – that goes something like this, “a woman needs security like a man needs approval”. I believe that. I’m not saying you have to buy the asshole a drink. Actually don’t buy him drink ever. Just say hello first. Guys appreciate it. If he doesn’t respond then he’s an asshole. Or if he is focusing too much on your shoes then he is gay and you two could go watch Twilight together.

Do you like bison for the taste or because of the lack of fat and cholesterol of regular beef?

Both. Bison has a gamey taste and you can taste how lean bison is, which is a nice change of pace. I love meat (no asterisk you creeps), so bison burgers and bison steaks are appreciated in my mouth (you really wish there was an asterisk here don’t you? DON’T YOU!?!). The fact that it is healthier is an added bonus.  

I cannot and do not believe that when you have “eyes for another” that “another” is Oksana Baiul. Get out. What, do we look like idiots out here????

What do they say? If you don’t have anything nice to say then don’t say anything at all? Interesting. So, I will take this time to mention that on Wednesday it was Morgan Fairchild’s birthday. Ms. Fairchild turned 60 and I would bang her still.

Wasn’t there a dog on Lost? Did he pee in a designated area, or would he only pee in a tent or whatever they lived in? Did he die?

Vincent. He is not dead, but he has been fazed out of the show more or less. He has made an appearance every once and awhile. Seemingly, he is just running around in the jungle eating and shitting where ever he pleases. There were characters who took care of Vincent and they for the most part have been killed. But there were scenes of them taking him on a walk and so forth. I think I remember them addressing once that Vincent was also traveling through time when everyone else was. Maybe I made that up.

Kristen Stewart could have her own Lost spinoff, only it would be called Want…. Which actors do you think should star as her crime fighting entourage? I mean, besides Mr. T, obviously.

This is a dangerous slippery slope. I could be conservative and choose insanely hot chicks as Kristen’s crime fighting team. They take showers together before and after they solve a crime at the end and beginning and sometimes in the middle of the weekly episodes. Or I could create a team of some of my favorite pop-culture references of the 80’s and 90’s to be her team. There are an infinite number of combinations of one or the other or both. So, I will take the easy road –

- Kristen is with the rest of the 9 hot white broads on the controversial Vanity Fair cover. Did you see that they said this cover was racist? I think that it one way it definitely is. They are all lily white chicks, which shows a complete and utter lack of racial diversity. These girls go from milk white to “just past the expiration date” milk white. At the same time, this is an article reflecting the “hottest”, in terms of career, girls this year in Hollywood. If it just so happens that they’re all white then that is Hollywood’s fault and not Vanity Fair’s. But one could easily easily easily make the argument that at the very least Zoe Saldana should be in the mix. She has quite the burgeoning career, specifically being the female lead in one of the best reviewed movies of last year, Star Trek. Anyway, those 9 chicks are smoking hot and so is Zoe Saldana.

- The Dream Team. Kristen Stewart’s crime fighting team is the 1992 gold medal winning US men’s national basketball team dubbed “The Dream Team”. They are the greatest team of individuals ever assembled to accomplish any task including the United States military of World War II. So, adding Kristen Stewart to that team would be amazing. Some would think I would say “she can replace Christian Laettner”. I will not say that. Christian will continue in the same role he had on The Dream Team in 1992 and that is cleaning the other guys’ jockstraps with his tongue.

Not even a thank you?

Thank you.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do I terrify you?

I am a man. I’m not scared of chicks. Unless we are talking about Cristiane “Cyborg” Santos. That woman scares the shit out of me. She fights at 145 pounds and she scares the shit out of me. There has been and there never will be a tougher thing on the planet with a vagina. One may try and get creative and imagine my 1500 foot robot groundhog with machine guns, missiles and ion cannons with a vagina and that would be tougher. It wouldn’t be. The robot groundhog would have extreme self confidence problems now with the vagina that Cris does not have and she would beat it to death with her vagina having fists.

So.. a zero would be my answer for you. As for Cristiane “Cyborg” Santos, 10.

Also, any advice on getting myself a life so that I don’t spend sizable amounts of time leaving the world’s most absurd comments on a blog?

I write that fucking blog, so I have no advice to give you.

Am I naively wearing clothes that give lesbians the wrong idea?

Send pictures to jordan.kswi@gmail.com . I need visual evidence to be sure.

“I’m expecting more comments”? Really?! Not even a Thanks?

Thank you, Brazil. I do question what happened to the other Brazilians who read this website. I thank you for your support as well as for you representing your 180+ million person country.

Also, remind me again why you are not writing TV shows for a living? or books which we haven’t gotten any chapters from lately?

I’m not refusing TV writing jobs. Apparently, they don’t like me *tears*. My “book”… hmmm… I’m lazy. Oh wait. No I’m not. I seem to be writing 2000 some odd words for something else every week day and then have a 9-5 yob to do. That’s right. I forgot there were some selfish ass women that I write for everyday that burn out most of my creative energy every morning and when I do have free time I usually use that time to recharge my battery with alcohol and videogames.

How do you get blood out of a carpet?

Blot the spot dry, massage detergent into the spot with a toothbrush, rinse with cold water, blot, pour a little ammonia on it, let that sit a few minutes, blot, detergent again, rinse, blot – keep repeating until it is either clean or you don’t care you have blood stains on your carpet anymore.

Another method – blot dry, cold water, blot dry, hydrogen peroxide, rinse, dry, peroxide, let that sit, warm water, dry.

I’m not in the least bit concerned that you killed someone. I just like people coming to me for advice and answers.

What language were you learning last summer when you didn’t post for almost a month?

I think I was joking, but I did buy a CD set to teach me Japanese last year. It was a month long course to teach me conversational Japanese. I listened to it for two days. I’m not sure where any of the CDs are currently. I know exceedingly little Japanese.

Tip – if you are listening to someone speak Japanese and you want to play along like you know what they are saying, say “nay” a lot. Say “nay” like you say “and?” while someone was telling a long story and you are fascinated. No joke. Didn’t learn that from the CDs. That is from watching Japanese fights. One commentator will endlessly rant about the fight while the other keeps saying “nay”.

Would you ever actually want The Want, or someone close to her like her mum or bff or Dakota Fanning, to find and read this place?

Yes.

Any and all, yes. If they have a sense of humor then there shouldn’t be any problem. It’s a comedy website and I don’t think I’ve said anything really bad. I’m not bitchy critical like gossip or celebrity sites. If anything I think I’m incredibly supportive. Sure, some of the stuff is real crazy, but it has no malice in it. I don’t think other celebrity sites can say the same. I hope one day that they do read this and do respond. That is definitely a passive goal of mine. I don’t actively send out this website to anyone really, so I’m not trying to get her or any of them to read it. But I hope they do at some point.

In my personal impression of what I’ve seen of Kristen Stewart, I think she would get that this is funny or in the very least not mean. Errr… I just deleted on purpose a rant I went on about young celebrities and how we unfairly treat them because of the money and fame they have somewhat fallen ass backwards into. It was a little too serious.

Yes, I would like to hear what she thinks. As I want to hear what everyone in the world thinks. I’m a man. I need approval.

Now I’m depressed from that answer. Thanks. What will make this better?

Thank you, Morgan Fairchild. Have a great weekend. Maybe a no post Monday, but maybe not. We’ll have to see.

SUPERBOWL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What If Kristen Stewart’s “Want” Was On Lost? – Dos

Yesterday was a long and unfulfilling day. There was apparently a glitch in my WordPress account that I dealt with most of the day. The glitch erased any comments as they were posted, so I couldn’t see them. Not to sound selfish, did anyone comment yesterday? WordPress assures me this will be handled today. So, if everyone could just summarize their comments from yesterday. That is if there were any. There weren’t really any on Tuesday, so there could’ve been none yesterday. I’m just curious if anyone is out there…

I guess I should just start the post…

PSYCH!!!

AHAH – Jokes. Whew, that was a good one. I saw all the comments. But now I’m fully expecting the same enthusiasm for today’s post which is the second half of yesterday’s post. So you kind of screwed yourselves* on that one.

Where did I leave off yesterday?

Oh, right. Kristen Stewart, aka Iliana, is having a bikini wrestling match slash cuddle fest with Kate aka Evangeline Lily. Who wins this graphic dry humping session on the beach? The human race. If there was a real fight, “The Butch” Kate Austin would win. I can’t imagine Kristen has much of a height and/or reach advantage on Kate. Also, I have a feeling Kate knows how to throw a much better punch than Kristen. Probably because she is so butch.

Why are they fighting again? Besides how sexy awesome it would be – Kate is not happy with Kristen and her frequent hooking up on the island. Just to recap: Kristen Stewart and her infinite want are on the second plane in the Lost series. She is seated next to Sayid, replacing the original Iliana, when the plane crashes.

Once on the island, Kristen’s want is too powerful for Jack to contain himself and he begins courting her with kisses. The softest and most gentle kisses a drunk divorcee doctor with a death wish can give. Later, Kristen is wandering along the beach and gets swept off into the current, most likely because she weighs such an infinitesmial amount that she was dragged in from the ocean’s gravity. This is when Sawyer, who may or may not have crabs, jumps into the water and saves her from drowning. To thank Sawyer, they hook up on the beach. Meanwhile, Kate has watched all this hooking up that Kristen is doing and it makes her furious. The two fight on the beach in bikinis to prove who the true alpha-”she”male is. That is a very unfortunate choice of words. Uh, they fight and roll around because bitches hatin’ bitches. 

So what happens to Kristen Stewart next?

Depression.

“Dramatic” Kristen Stewart is what happens. Kristen and her want were in a plane crash. She hooked up with her pseudo-tribal leader, Jack. She hooked up with the pseudo-tribal bad boy, Sawyer. She has an unexplainable and unrelenting itching sensation down below – if you remember from yesterday. And the one chick on the island, Kate, she thought she could get along with picked a fight with her. Where does Kristen Stewart turn?

Kristen begins to walk the island by herself in a state of despair. Either “despair” or she really wants the ground. One or the other, but I’ll stick with despair for the storyline. Kristen is in search for a new tribe. A tribe that she has not hooked up with half of the top decision makers. A tribe that might have a cure for common sexually transmitted pubic lice. A tribe that can ascribe purpose to Kristen Stewart’s want being on this island. And that is when Kristen meets Ben.

Ahhhh yes! Arguably the best character on Lost is the incomparable, Benjamin Linus.

Ben has been everything from savior to destroyer on Lost and back again. Season after season of Ben as a main character still has taught us little of his motives. Is his end game for the good of the Losties or for their demise? We don’t know. One minute, he is helping and the next minute he is hurting. He is an incredibly complex character who is battling not only with his inner demons from the consequences of his actions, but he has some ambition that seems to continually be unfettered even with  every thing that has happened.

Are we happy that Kristen meets Ben? Are we scared to death that Kristen meets Ben? Probably more the latter than the former.

Ben is a resourceful fellow and he takes care of Kristen. Ben is probably lonely and misses his daughter. He provides her water, food and shelter. The two are in search for something, Kristen doesn’t know what nor do the viewers. Kristen follows Ben like a lost puppy. Kristen questions what Ben is looking for and he gives vague and sarcastic answers. Nevertheless, Kristen is comfortable and happy to be with Ben. He is determined taking her through the jungles of the island. They visit the Dharma station “The Staff” which is the medical station. Ben finds some medicine to cure Kristen’s “situation” and she is in his debt for that.

Ben and Kristen travel from Dharma station to Dharm station. From one side of the island to the next. From temple to temple. From one weird ass crashed boat to the weird ass crashed plane. After days of circumnavigating the Lost island, Ben has a breakdown.

Ben screams into the night in frustration. He yells to the Heavens to “show him a sign!” He continues to bellow into the nothingness as Kristen watches on. Kristen is scared and worried. Ben has given up. He is broken. Ben feels disowned and rejected by the island and the Gods. He collapses in exhaustion.

Kristen with tears in her eyes doesn’t know what to do. Her guide has reached the end of his sanity. Whatever purpose they seemed to have walking around the island appears to be over. Ben has succumbed to a near coma like slumber. Kristen does what she does best, she curls up into a ball in a hole in the woods and waits for death… or a mystical one hundred year old virgin vampire posing as a high school student to save her.

Kristen’s eyes are about to close… She feels a hand on her shoulder

It’s Charlotte! Back from the dead. Which would be surprising if it weren’t for the fact that no one really “dies” on Lost. So it is suprising to see a dead person, but not too surprising. It’s about as surprising as going to a bar in your hometown and running into someone you went to high school with. That’s about as surprising as being awoken by a dead person on Lost. At some point, it’s just like STAY DEAD. I’m tired of saying goodbye because I know I’m just going to see you again.

Anyway, it’s Charlotte from beyond the grave. Charlotte tells Kristen she knows where Ben and her need to go. They need to visit the one man who can truly utilize Kristen’s natural and nutured talents on the island. The one man left who knows  how to save the island and all the Losties. And that man is the enigmatic Richard Alpert.

“What does he need with my talents?” Kristen asks. “You’ll have to ask him and find out for yourself,” Charlotte responds with her cute accent. “He will know what to do with your ‘want’.”

Kristen is excited and happy about this revelation. Charlotte is excited by Kristen’s excitement. So the two of them kiss and play with each other’s hair. Typical girl stuff. Just what every two or more good looking girls do when there is a lull in a conversation. They just start making out or if there are pillows around they have a pillow fight which turns into making out. It’s just science.

After all the kissing, Charlotte walks off mysteriously into the darkness from whence she came*. Kristen gets dressed, since she was kissing and stuff she took her clothes off, and wakes up Ben. Kristen explains to Ben that they need to see Richard. At first, Ben is against the idea. But Kristen tells him that his request for a sign worked and how she was visited by Charlotte. Ben is all ears. Kristen tells Ben what Charlotte said -

KS – Richard will know how to use my ‘want’ to save the island. That’s what she said.

BL - I guess it is worth a shot. Did she tell you where he was?

KS – Yes, he is at the pyramid temple.

 BL - Great. We will set out when the sun starts to rise. Did she say anything else?

KS – No.

BL – Nothing? What happened after Charlotte told you about Richard?

KS – Nothing.

BL – Nothing? She told you to go to Richard and then she just evaportaed? What happened?

KS – Well…

BL – Well? Well what?

KS – Well, I was excited about going to see Richard and she was excited also. So we kissed.

BL – You kissed!?! You two just kissed once and she disap-

KS – Well, not once. We kind of got undressed and made out and “stuff”. I don’t know. It just seemed to happen. I just want it so bad all the time that I end up kissing girls. Dakota Fanning-

BL – WHAT!?! You kissed Dakota Fanning!?!

KS – Yeah. It was really innocent. Her lips-

BL – STOP! Stop right now before I get arrested for just being apart of this conversation! Man, this is all so much information to process right after waking up. Receiving guidance from dead people, having to go see Richard, you making out with Charlotte five feet from me. I would have loved to have seen that. Why didn’t you wake me up?

KS – Ewww gross. You’re like 60.

BL – I’m not 60! And even if I was, I’ll have you know there are some attractive men over the age of 60 who you would be lucky to sleep with. #1 Ted Danson, #2 David Bowie, #3…

This argument continues between Kristen and Ben until they find Richard at the temple.

Richard Alpert takes Kristen Stewart aside for a confidential conversation. Richard is more or less an advisor on the island for people who take leadership roles on the island. Richard is one of, if not the only, character who seems to understand what is going on on the island. He has had contact with both Jacob and his counterpart the man in the black shirt. Richard explains to Kristen that the island and all the inhabitants of the island are in grave danger.

The man in the black shirt is also the horrible smoke monster that kills without mercy. There has been an unbalance on the island as the man in the black shirt tricked Ben into killing Jacob. Now the people on the island should be very afraid of the man in the black shirt because he may kill them all in his smoke monster form. But Richard has a plan.

Kristen Stewart’s want will kill the smoke monster.

Richard explains that the man in the black shirt is pure evil and his evil power is as the smoke monster. Meanwhile, Kristen Stewart is pure good and her want power will eviscerate the evil power. Kristen is scared, but for some reason she trusts Richard and his black eyeliner. 

Kristen Stewart declares, “I will kill the smoke monster with my want.”

Richard is happy to hear this because the man in the black shirt is right outside the temple.

The man in the black shirt greets Kristen. He knows why she is here. They are here to kill each other. Who is the most powerful – the smoke monster or the want?

“Prepare yourself Kristen! Enter your battle form!”

And, in front of Kristen’s own green eyes, the man in the black shirt transforms into the most horrific killing machine in the Lost universe:

THE SMOKE MONSTER

Hmmm… it is a lot more scary on the show. It is loud and makes all these mechanical noises. It kind of sounds like the T-Rex from Jurassic Park mixed with the sounds of metal chains. It also just kills people pretty relentlessly. It does just kind of look like a puff of smoke in this picture. Trust me though it kind of ruins shit when it gets going*. Anyway, it’s a smoke monster.

And Kristen Stewart prepares her own battle transformation:

THE WANT

OH MY GOD IT IS GLORIOUS! THIS TRULY WILL BE A BATTLE OF THE TITANS!

THE WANT VS. THE SMOKE MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh

aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHH

aaaaaaaaAAAAhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHH

aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH

aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

……
…..
….
…
..

YES! YES! YES!

They’re all saved by Kristen Stewart and her want! The war is over! The reign of the smoke monster is over! They can live in peace! I can stop using exclamation point marks!….

Kristen and Ben celebrate the victory with hugs and “I knew you could do it”. They walk back to the pyramid and are met by a surprise – Elizabeth Mitchell

Kristen Stewart’s want explosion has brought everyone back from the dead and transported them to the pyramid alive! One of those people is Elizabeth Mitchell’s character Juliette. She is now alive and looking smoking hot as always, like in the above photo and in this photo -

To thank Kristen Stewart for bringing her back from the dead, Elizabeth Mitchell and Kristen frolick and so forth on the beach and probably kiss. And strangely enough, all the other hot chicks on Lost who are now alive again like Maggie Grace have similar ideas on how to thank Kristen Stewart.

And that’s about it. Everyone is alive and safe on the island. All the girls are having fun with each other. The smoke monster is dead.

So, take my ideas and run with them Lindelof and Cuse. The final season of Lost needs Kristen Stewart, her want, tons more girls just being girls et cetera. I’m sure we can work out some form of payment at a later date, just make this happen.

And – questions for Friday.

What If Kristen Stewart’s “Want” Was On Lost? – Uno

Yeah, what if.

Before I go there and completely pervert the television show Lost with my crazy ideas, I need to address something.

18 comments? 18!?! That’s it? Ugh. Seriously. I had a lot more than 18 hits yesterday. I’m just saying I CAN’T HEAR YOU LAUGHING BRAZIL! Or if it is because you are all prejudice against Oksana Baiul or my love for Oksana Baiul then you need to grow up. It is the 21st century! Oksana and I are not breaking any laws - Man or Gods’. There is a black President in the White House! Times have changed. Be a little more open-minded next time about Ukrainian/USA relationships.  

But I digress…

LOST is back

Yes, maybe the craziest show on television is back. It is the final season of Lost and I am eagerly waiting to see if they fuck up the ending of this show. I feel like there is a high probability that Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse will fuck up the ending, but who knows?

First and foremost, I am not here to explain to you the storyline of Lost. I am not here to help you catch-up over the past 5 seasons, so you can dive into this 6th and final season. If anything I am prepared to disturb any current knowledge you have of Lost, which may actually regress your knowledge of the show. All for humorous results.

If you know nothing about Lost then don’t worry because most people who have watched every episode still know nothing about Lost. The show is a mystery! People are all confused, but they keep watching. They don’t know why, but they do. And even if someone thinks they know something about Lost, if you press them even a little about a storyline they’ll soon realize they know nothing about the show too. It is a TV show that Socrates would have truly truly loved. It’s ridiculousness humbles us all. 

Case in point: What is Lost about?

Ask that question and prepare to lose the next 2-100 hours of your life. Or a variant question – so what’s happening on Lost? That might as well be the last question you ever ask ever. The answer will never end. Somehow answering that question will take much longer than you actually sitting down and watching every episode. WITH COMMERCIALS!

Lost is complicated. Kristen Stewart’s want is complicated. What if they joined forces? What do you think of that Kristen?

She seems excited about it.

Kristen’s want is like a golden retriever puppy. Play? You want to play? Ball? I’ll chase a ball. Just throw the ball and I’ll run after it. You don’t even have to go anywhere, I’ll just go get it and bring it back! Act? You want to act, Kristen? You want to act on Lost, Kristen? I’m sure you dooo. I’m sure you dooo. You’re a good girl, Kristen! You’re a good girl! Where are you going, Kristen? Don’t go into your mother’s garden, Kristen! Get out of the garden, KRISTEN! NO! NO! No, no, no, no, no! No digging, Kristen! Bad Kristen! Bad Kristen “as a golden retriever puppy” Stewart!

Where are you going now, Kristen? No! No! Do not make out with teen heart throb and your Twilight co-star Robert Pattinson! No! Kristen stop! Kristen sss… are you two just rubbing foreheads? Yeah, I guess that’s alright. You two can keep rubbing foreheads. You can’t get pregnant rubbing foreheads. You don’t even need a condom to rub foreheads. You don’t need birth control to rub foreheads. You don’t need to pull out in time to rub foreheads. Ok, good girl, Kristen Stewart. Do you want a treat?

I think that looks pretty fucking good right there. I feel like the Lost island needs a big want injection and clearly Kristen is the one to handle that. I really hope there isn’t a discussion about is Jack really the Robert Pattinson or Fake-Robert Pattinson on Lost. I also really hope there isn’t a discussion on whether Sawyer is the Taylor Lautner or Fake-Taylor Lautner on Lost. And by “hope” and “isn’t”, I mean I want more fucking comments – stat!

Before we get into different storylines Kristen Stewart could be involved in on Lost, let’s get to the basics. Can Kristen Stewart survive on the Lost island?

Let’s weigh her positives and negatives.

Kristen Stewart and her want are used to being in the wildnerness.

Or the woods at least. Sadly, we’ve all seen Twilight and we know Kristen Stewart is not scared of trees. At the same time, she is terrible with trees. She’s not afraid of them, she’s just terrible around them or doing anything involving them. Kristen stumbles through the woods like a baby learning to walk. She also brings little to no equipment with her into the wild to help live. Which is fine by Kristen because her plans in the woods are not sane ones. Kristen makes the horrendous decision in the woods to dig a hole and then lay in it until a fucking mystical vampire comes and saves her and/or she dies of starvation.

These calculated errors will not help her survive on the Lost island. But she at least is not literally afraid of wondering around in a deep forest of trees until maybe someone finds her and saves her. Like The Others…

Kristen Stewart has the style down to be an “Other”. By that I mean she can look good in wearing dirty clothes. It is that hobo-chic look that Kristen can do so well. Her want is not hampered from lack of showering. Her want is not hampered by greasy hair. Her want is not hampered by wearing a knit camp in the summer time. Her want could fit in nicely with The Others.

And Kristen has a backpack. So I think she can cut it on Lost.

It really doesn’t require too much knowledge of islands, wilderness, animals, plants, hunting, foraging or anything to survive on the Lost island. Mainly because there are a few characters who seemingly do all that stuff for them. As long as Locke is there to kill a boar or Jin is there fishing or Sun is there to grow vegetables or Kate gets coconuts then Kristen is fine.

Kristen cuts her hand? Jack will fix it. Kristen is detoxing from drugs? Charlie can coach her through it. Kristen’s cell phone is broken? Sayid is all over that. Kristen has a prisoner she wants to interrogate? Sayid is up at bat again. Kristen needs a lesson on using a gun or how to behave during an intense shootout? Almost everyone on the island can handle that for her. Kristen would like to raise someone from the dead? That’s covered too. Seriously, Kristen doesn’t need to be a team leader, she just needs to make sure to ask for help and smile a lot and people will keep her ass alive.

Storylines

I think Kristen Stewart and her want could seamlessly be added into Lost. It really isn’t as tricky as some of you may think. There appears to be two different time dimensions going on now on Lost. There is the dimension in time where the plane crashes and now a dimension where the plane doesn’t crash. I think we can drop her into both storylines without any problem. First thing first, Kristen and her want need to be on the plane – everything has to do with a fucking airplane on Lost. This is Kristen’s storyline for the plane crash timeline:

Easy as that. Kristen Stewart’s want replaces Iliana. Why? Because her character is completely inconsequential thus far. Just use some green screen and edit Kristen into the plane sitting next to Sayid and never make reference to Iliana again. Or make Kristen’s character’s name Iliana for all I care. It wouldn’t matter. She really hasn’t done much. Oh she got Sayid on the plane? Great. Big fucking deal. How about we just change the script and say Sayid got on the plane on his own free will. Who cares!?! It doesn’t change anything. He’s on the plane – that’s all that matters. And what matters mores is that Kristen Stewart is now sitting next to him with my elite MS-Paint skills. BOO YAH!

What does Kristen do on the island?

“Do”? She “does” Jack, first. Kristen Stewart and her want shake shit up. That’s what happens. Do you think Jack can handle the want? No way. He can’t stop himself from kissing Kristen Stewart. Or at least attempting to in this very cleverly MS-Painted picture. Here. Kristen wants it, but Jack is the father figure of the island and this love is forbidden. Kristen doesn’t want to fall in love on Lost island. Especially with the overseer and former big time alcoholic Jack.

But they do get it on or maybe they sort of get it on. I’m not saying Kristen bones Jack. I’ll say that Kristen and Jack “hook up”. And by “hook up”, I’m using The Situation’s, from the Jersey Shore obviously, definition of “hooking up” which ranges from penetration to holding hands. So “Iliana” and Jack hook up. Plus not to stereotype, but with a name like “Iliana” you know she hooks up, am I right?

But what next…

Kristen almost drowns! How dramatic!?! This happens because of two things:

1. Kristen is a clutz

2. People are always almost drowning on Lost

But…

Sawyer saves Kristen!

And they hook up.

Everyone hooks up with Sawyer apparently. He always has his shirt off and he is always gruffing about something. He also has nicknames for everyone which shows an uncommon familiarity with people. Hey we’re friends, I’m calling you “Freckles”, but we’ve only known each other for two days. So people are always “hooking up” with him. Also, Sawyer is the rugged bad boy of the island. You would think that would be a tough title to win considering everyone is murdering each other, so their all pretty much “bad boys”. I guess it is much worse to be a thief off the island than a sociopath killing anyone wearing a Dharma initiative jumpsuit on the island. Nevertheless, everyone hooks up with Sawyer. I think even Hurley hooked up with Sawyer.

Just for transparency’s sake, I did type in “Hurley” into Google and I got these pictures:

Oh my God. Remember when Elizabeth Hurley was the hottest thing walking the planet. Thank God we took pictures and video of it because it was glorious.

Fuck. She wants it.

Ok. Back to Sawyer hooking up with broads and possibly Hurley. I find it very interesting that people are willingly hooking up with Sawyer even with all we know about him. As mentioned, what you did off the island is always worse than what you’ve done on the island. Sawyer off the island wasn’t the best of cats. He didn’t treat people well and he didn’t treat himself well either. This leads me to a theory I have about Sawyer:

Sawyer has crabs.

Or could have them. I think he does.

That’s right. I think Sawyer at the very least has crabs. He didn’t seem to care much for hygiene. Kind of chased poon where ever it was offered all over the world. I feel like it should not be a shock to anyone if they pick up a VD from Sawyer. I’m not saying he has the “clap”, although at one time I’m sure he did. But I do not think it is out of the realm of possibilities that he has crabs. He always seems riled up, temper about to explode, moves around a lot, frazzled, scratches his balls a lot. Maybe the last one I made up. But you can’t deny you are thinking that I’m right and that Sawyer has crabs or at least there is an 80% chance. I’m just saying.

Back to the storyline. Kristen thinks she is on top of the world. She is hooking up with two dudes on the island. She possibly caught crabs from Sawyer. Maybe Jack has a VD, he was living in a South East Asian hut for awhile. Could have caught something. Anyway, Kristen’s got a leather jacket. She’s strutting around the island all happy. And that does not sit well with one person in particular…

Bitches hatin’ bitches! Evangeline Lily is hot, by the way. KATE! Kate is furious about this! Kristen Stewart aka Iliana is stealing Kate’s men! Only Kate should be the one dealing Sawyer’s crabs or Jack’s possible Pacific Rim sexually transmitted diseases. After a series of passive aggressive scenes around the makeshift bamboo food pantry over bowls of Dharma Initiative frosted flakes cereal, their tempers reach the boiling point! There is finally the stand off with 6 minutes left in whatever episode. Kristen confronts Kate.

In a bikini of her own.

And they fight in their bikinis! They roll around and fight. They scratch and bite. But then they notice how soft each other’s skin is when they scratch and bite. How lovely each other’s hair is as they pull on it. How their bodies glisten in the setting sunlight. So their fighting becomes playful. And they kiss and stuff. Come on, her name is “Iliana”. Remember?

Plus would any of you be surprised if Kate turned out to be a lesbian? She’s butch. Rides a motorcycle. Knows how to hunt and use guns. I pray to God everynight for it to happen. Multiply Kate’s latent lipstick lesbianism with Kristen’s want and you have a hook up waiting to happen.

Until tomorrow! Cliffhanger ending! I did give you a lot of KStew hooking up though today so be happy about that.

Happy Groundhog Day and I have eyes for another

Happy Groundhog Day!

As you are all well aware, today is Groundhog Day. If you were not “well aware” of this then the opening sentence of “Happy Groundhog Day!” followed by “today is Groundhog Day” should have caught you up to speed. Now that we all know it is Groundhog Day, let’s talk about this most ancient of holidays. Every year on February 2^nd, we gather early in the morning and look to the sky because something miraculous happens: a vortex.

A vortex of time and space opens and a torrent wind sucks a select few people into it. All around the globe people are chosen with the key number being 15. These lucky few are then trapped inside this vortex where they are forced to relive one day over and over again until they finally succeed in accomplishing the “perfect day”.

Some may remember the Groundhog Day of 1991 when a capricious 14 year old Ukrainian girl was chosen. Our first glimpse of her was not flattering. She was at least 60 pounds over weight with fat muffin topping out of her impossibly tight black jeans. Her face covered in acne from her nearly 100% candy diet. Her thin hair was in patches around her bumpy skull. She wore a Wham! t-shirt. We all questioned the Gods. Why? Why choose this girl? What could she possibly achieve? Why is she drooling so much? Why Wham!? They broke up in 1986. That’s when it happened.

In one swift movement, she balanced herself on one set of toes. It was in an instant that this slob of a young high school girl sprung to life with a pointed right foot to the ground and balanced her doughy mess of a body on top of it. Her silhouette was like a dreidel, if dreidel’s were made of bacon fat. And in that moment, we all could see what she could become if given an infinite amount of days to work on this craft tirelessly and lose all that weight and start eating and sleeping properly and receive proper training and be guided in the right direction.

We all know that fat little girl went on to become “The Swan of Odessa” Oksana Baiul.

Yes, a scant two years later the enigmatic Oksana Baiul won the gold medal at the 1994 Winter Olympic Games. An even greater honor was bestowed on her as she was named to Barbara Walters’ list of “One of the 10 Most Fascinating Personalities of 1994”. With no higher honor to achieve outside of maybe a Nobel Peace Prize or Nathan’s hot dog eating contest, Oksana had accomplished it all. Oksana began her Groundhog Day fat, unlovable, and with a slight case of dysentery. “The Swan” ended her Groundhog Day losing 100 pounds, perfecting figure skating to a jaw dropping art form, regular bowels, and an unmistakable ear for Latin Jazz music.

Today, Oksana is a hero to us all and a great symbol of what this beautiful, magical, completely unfounded and ridiculous holiday, Groundhog Day, can be. “The Swan of Odessa” successfully operates her own figure skating apparel line, cleverly titled, The Oksana Baiul Collection. And Oksana currently resides in the greatest state in the Union, New motherfucking Jersey.

Some may ask why I chose Oksana Baiul as my example of the greatness that this most holy of holydays has to offer. There are plenty of others who have achieved because of Groundhog day: Tiger Woods, Reggie Miller, Horatio Alger, Jared from those Subway commercials, Melissa Etheridge, Antonio Banderas et cetera  First, because Oksana’s 1994 Winter Olympics Gold Medal winning routine is the reason why Jesus wrote the Bible. And second, because I believe Oksana Baiul may be single. And I would just like to say:

MARRY ME, OKSANA BAIUL!

OH, SWEET “THE SWAN OF ODESSA”! CHOOSE ME!

WE WILL HAVE SARCASTIC AND DEEPLY DEPRAVED CHILDREN WHO HAVE REMARKABLY GOOD BALANCE, GRACE, AND A PENCHANT FOR DOING TIGHT JUMPING SPINS ON A SHEET OF ICE IN FLAMBOYANTLY GAY COSTUMES, which will of course be all designed by your personal Oksana Baiul Collection, THEY WILL BE GIFTED WITH IMAGINATION AND A LOVE FOR STEVEN SEAGAL, as well as an unquestionable natural ability for dancing and skating that will be forcibly thrust upon them until they have either a breakdown at an early age and become drug addicts or become gold medal winners in figure skating and later earn a more than modest living skating for the Ice Capades.

SO MARRY ME! I WILL MAKE YOU “THE SWAN OF NEW JERSEY”!

Honestly, you already could be “The Swan of New Jersey” considering I tend to doubt anyone has ever had that nickname.

ANYWAY!

I know we have never spoken, Oksana, but I love you. I have loved you for a long time. I started writing this post at around 9:30am and it is 10am and that means somewhere in that half hour I thought “You know who is a random person? Oksana Baiul” and now we are immortal soulmate lovers best friends amigos amores amours amor chinchillas. I don’t say use this word a lot (maybe 4 or 5 times a week depending on how many hot chicks I see, every week since I was in first grade when I saw Courtney which is like 20 years ago so that equals over 4500 times):

I love you, Oksana Baiul.

I feel like I started this all wrong. Clearly, there is a more tactful way for me to go about this. There has to be an avenue that I am missing that will show respect and at the same time my undying love for Oksana Baiul. I will pen her a letter.

Dear Oksana Baiul,

I love you.

No! I cannot start with the best part of the letter. I need to build up to the revelation of my love for her. This isn’t Memento. I can’t start at the end at work my way backwards to the beginning which is really the end and at the same time is an explanation for how the end even could have existed in the beginning. This is a tough one.

Dear Oksana Baiul,

No! Anyone can write “Dear Oksana Baiul”. I need more purpose, I need more emotion and I need to reflect the desperate times that we are currently living in with this dire economy struggling to get to its feet through bipartisanism in Washington.

To My Dearest Oksana Baiul,

I have watched you from afar. I have kept my distance allowing your fame and success to mature. I have followed your every move-

Ugh, now I sound like a stalker. This is much harder than I thought it would be. That’s what she said. Damn it! I wish I was chosen for the Groundhog Day vortex so I could spend an infinite amount of days crafting this letter. Choosing each word perfectly. Learning calligraphy to then write the letter by hand. I could purchase a wax seal. Parchment paper. One of those fountain pens. Oooh I know, a quill. That would be fucking sweet. A quill, a wooden desk with a hole in it for the ink well, sheets of parchment paper, a candle, a wax seal. That just sounds so romantic, also it sounds like a time and era where my age expectancy would be 32. I’d probably die of the plague or the common cold if I was using a quill and a wax seal to send love letters to Ukrainians.

To My Dearest Oksana Baiul,

Doesth thou havestith a boyfriend? A man of respective age who sharestith your bedroom chamber? A man whose rough hands cup your alabaster cheek untilth the ‘morrow? A man who smelleth your golden hair and whisperthisth to your gentle ears the words of the storied poets: Homer, Shakespeare, Bruce Springsteen? Doesth thouest…. Do you have a dude or not? Your website makes no mention of a dude-

That got a little frustrating to write and way too formal. She’s from the Ukraine not the 16^th Century. Maybe I should be a little more casual. Just start light and easy. I’m a cool guy. Nothing to worry about. We can just chat. Little chit-chat. Then I get to how much I eternally love her later. Put the Facebook moves on her.

Subject: Whaddup

Message: Hey, Oksana! What’s up? I was just bored at work (you know how that is), just cruising around FB and I saw you changed your AV. I like it. That’s a sweet picture with you and Kristi Yamaguchi. I bet you have a lot to talk about being gold medalists and your home country’s national sweethearts and all. Also, Happy Groundhog’s Day! Did you see that Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow? Another tough winter is a bummer. Where’s all that “global warming” we keep hearing about, am I right? Anyway, just thought I would say “hi”.

Lat8rz,

K-Swidg-jizzle aka Jordan

Well that is the most depressing thing I could have ever written in my life. I’ve read suicide notes with more hope than that bullshit. Oh my God! That is depressing. I’m just depressed knowing that actually came out of my head*. U-G-H, every part of that depresses me. The pathetic commenting on her avatar. You know you went specifically to her page. You’ve been going to her page everyday for last two months just looking for an excuse to message her.

And “Punxsutawney Phil”? That oversized rodent is the most depressing part. I can’t believe that motherfucker saw his shadow this morning. More fucking cold ass winter. Stupid fucking rat! And I can’t believe PETA gave us that half-hearted bullshit saying they were going to replace that mess with a robot and then DIDN’T. You know how fucking psyched I was for a “robot groundhog”? The most psyched! Christ that would have been badass. This holiday needs a robot groundhog. Sure, the Heaven’s open up and the Gods show us their faces for a brief moment to then choose at random 15 people on Earth to give an impossible opportunity to help them cultivate some natural talent to change the rest of the world forever. That’s cool and all, but a stupid sorry ass groundhog?

I WANT A ROBOT GROUNDHOG!

Imagine what a robot groundhog could do. The possibilities are limitless. Armor plating, jet packs, laser guided missiles, a microwave. It would fucking rock! I don’t care if they make one little bugger or they make a 1000 foot one that destroys cities. Just knowing a robot groundhog was out there or just knowing there was a robot groundhog in development in some underground secret military facility would make me happy when I go to sleep at night. That and, of course, Oksana Baiul by my side.

Dear Oksana Baiul,

My name is Jordan and I can only think of two things that could ever make me happy in this life. The first would be a nuclear powered robot groundhog that is used as the flag bearer for the American military war machine.

At just under 1500 feet tall, its chrome finish would reflect the Earth’s yellow Sun’s light for miles. This light would be a flaming beacon of these United States and the strength of our democratically controlled robotic battle power. From top to bottom this robot groundhog would be built for destruction and, of course, spreading “freedom”. Its four metallic groundhog paws would be decorated with over 100 hydraulically or pneumatically driven, six-barreled, air-cooled, electrically fired M61 Vulcan cannon machine guns. Its 350 foot tail would be entirely comprised of razor wire and can achieve whipping speeds up to 400 miles per hour. The spinal column houses the world’s largest uranium enriched missile depot. The crown jewel of the robot groundhog would be the state of the art ion cannon sitting atop its head. Although it has not been used in any real life scenarios it is believed that the ion cannon could be so powerful it could undo life itself. If that were only enough, the robot groundhog is also proficient in hand-to-hand combat and martial arts weapons such as nunchucks, bow staff and samurai swords aka katannas. This robot groundhog is one thing that would make me happy.

That second thing would be you. I love you, Oksana Baiul.

I love you and I love insane robot death machines that will fight on the side of the Red, White, and Blue. Your grace and beauty on and off the ice has captivated this young man’s affection. Also, giant robots that are created to look like fairly passive animals that now are equipped with horrific amounts of destructive capabilities and also fight for truth and justice and, of course, these fifty great states of ours.

I do not believe anything else will provide me any true happiness outside of your soft touch, penetrating eyes, and “Fall of the Berlin Wall”-era Eastern European accent. You are what I desire. You and, maybe, a 1500 foot moving metal structure in the shape of a groundhog that brings death to the enemies of this old Star Spangled banner.

One last time.

I love you, Oksana Baiul. And Happy Groundhog Day!

It would certainly be a shame if I ever sought out medical treatment for my brain. And that rhymed.