I Do

So I finally figured out the reason why Blogger threw me a B.O.N.e last week and evidently it's got nothing to do with fulfilling my dream of famosity. Apparently, Blogger wants me to marry a millionaire almost as badly as my mom wants me to go back to graduate school.

See, ever since I got B.O.N.ed five days ago, my inbox has been flooded with love declarations, marriage proposals and people from all over the world trying to wire me millions of dollars.

How amazing is that, guys?! Just see for yourselves if you don't believe me.

I'm "smiling him" as we speak.

I guess I no longer have to hunt for work or chase famosity since I'm pretty damn rich right about now according to this email.

This guy was balls out straightforward and cut straight to the chase. "Marry me and no one gets hurt. Sign here to agree to this transaction."

I'm totally confused about this one. Did he see my picture and confuse me for a man? This is the second time this shit happens in the past month, guys. I'm starting to freak out here.

And finally this was my favorite one. Precious wants to be "loving and caring" with little old me. Imagine that, guys. A friggin' movie star wants me! I knew it. I would consider her for my upcoming foray into sex tape making, but I don't think it'd be an easy thing to market (that and I'm still pining for Ricky Martin or Cristiano Ronaldo as the top contenders).

There's only one answer to each and every single one of these proposals and that is, I do. I do want your millions and I do want to marry you.

Even you, Precious. Why the heck not?

Necessary disclaimer: I realize this wasn't one of my best posts you guys, but please understand that after this whole B.O.N.ing phenomenon I've been experiencing what only a man with mild erectile disfunction must feel every day: major performance anxiety.

Bear with me and I'll deliver the goods to the best of my ability. 'Sides... I can't give you guys the bulk of awesome-ness all at once because then I'll be left stark naked and we know you're not ready for all that and frankly neither am I.

I'm celibate, remember?

Unnecessary and completely unrelated sidenote: I rescued three puppies a week ago and they're driving me to drink (let's pretend like this is a difficult task to accomplish).

I feel like a new mother, but instead of having that infamous glow people are always yapping about, I look like this every morning:

Anyway, I won't pretend they're doing anything other than killing me with cuteness, so here's a video of them doing just that.